<?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-6336248339197200150</id><updated>2012-01-28T18:37:54.265-07:00</updated><category term='canning'/><category term='new year'/><category term='Herding cows'/><category term='Imagination'/><category term='memories'/><category term='laugh'/><category term='fall'/><category term='unicycle'/><category term='Saturday Projects on the Farm'/><category term='cowboy poetry'/><category term='December'/><title type='text'>Ridin'  the Range</title><subtitle type='html'>Taking every opportunity we can to do the things we love the most</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>334</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4485112511800578530</id><published>2012-01-25T15:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T16:21:08.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z8f72dehBPc/TyCOUr9wDiI/AAAAAAAACIc/K387jnRT32E/s1600/basketball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 395px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z8f72dehBPc/TyCOUr9wDiI/AAAAAAAACIc/K387jnRT32E/s400/basketball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701713614301302306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I'm guilty of, That Durn Procrastination bug.   I've been meaning to Blog about Christmas and New years and all but I just keep procrastinating.  Plus it's Basketball season, no I don't watch the Jazz, all though I'm always happy when they win, but my interests are in the Wayne High Badgers and the the Wayne Middle School 7/8 th grade teams.  My two oldest boys are each on a team and we've been Busy running here and there and all over the place, and sometimes back and forth from here to a small town two hours away and back only to have to turn around and drive back down to the town two hours away the next day for the other boy to play.&lt;br /&gt;So I've felt a lot busier then normal.  But I love watching my boys so we go =).  I've discovered, surprisingly, That I'm the type of Mom that yells at her boy to foul out if he get's treated to ruffly on the court.  here's what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 8th grader is one of the taller boy's on the floor so he covers the center,  The team they were playing was a great little basketball team except for the fact that they played a little bit dirty,  we were playing on their court with their refs and at the end of the 2nd period the foul ratio was us 12 to there 1 or 2 or something like that.  It was a big enough margin to figure out that the calls were a little lopsided.  all the parent's and the coaches were a bit flabbergasted but the boys seemed to be taking it fairly well.  Caib, was guarding under the basket trying to keep his opponent from getting the ball and scoring When the kid put his arm up on Caib and shoved him about ten feet and dropped him to the floor.  the kid then had the ball passed into him and Caib Jumped up and swatted the ball HARD twice as the kid tried to shoot.  Of course the foul was called on Caib and I found myself shouting at the top of my voice."CAIB, YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION TO FOUL OUT OF THIS GAME IF YOUR GONNA BE TREATED LIKE THAT!!!"  I was so mad.  of course after I yelled I was amazed that I had let my feelings get so out of control.  We lost that game, go figure.  I was pretty quiet the rest of the game but one of our other boy's mothers wasn't, boy, she yelled at the top of her lungs at every foul the refs called whether it was legit or not.  Roger thought it would have been more appropriate if they had just given the other team a twenty to zero advantage to begin with.  Aw well,  The boy's learned a lot&lt;br /&gt;and we had an exciting ride home as it snowed pretty heavily for 3/4ths of the way home.  GOTTA love basketball!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also that horrible time of year where I start putting things off until spring time....Now if any of you know anything at all about Loa you will know that Springtime never really comes to this little town.  Nope,  we jump from Freezing cold winters in May to Summer in July, June seems to be a mix of winter and Summer it's either ice on the sprinklers or a nice summer day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I put things off until Spring I guess I'm just in a state of denial.  Or else I'm trying to cushion the idea that I may just never get some things done.    And so Life moves on with  somethings never getting done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4485112511800578530?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4485112511800578530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4485112511800578530&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4485112511800578530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4485112511800578530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2012/01/procrastination.html' title='Procrastination'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z8f72dehBPc/TyCOUr9wDiI/AAAAAAAACIc/K387jnRT32E/s72-c/basketball.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4796566387487194594</id><published>2011-12-14T09:58:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T10:22:48.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's chatterings, again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uSHyQXA7Xgw/TujXUOJ13nI/AAAAAAAACIQ/3x1fIfzeWvY/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uSHyQXA7Xgw/TujXUOJ13nI/AAAAAAAACIQ/3x1fIfzeWvY/s400/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686031271951982194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chance, being in Kindergarten now, loves to make cards.  Typical of a kid who is finally learning to write.  This is his Christmas card to me this year.  As he sat at the table he, of course, had to make sure that his spelling was all correct.  But not only that, he decided to add a little punctuation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4eIB3idVWCY/TujXTzds1MI/AAAAAAAACIE/Zr89E0y9NsE/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4eIB3idVWCY/TujXTzds1MI/AAAAAAAACIE/Zr89E0y9NsE/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686031264787518658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started with the typical, "Dear Mom,  then he sat there for a minute and says,  I think I want to put an exclamation point at the end of that because I don't want it to just say Dear mom, but I want it to sound exciting.  so he proceeds to put an exclamation point after his opening.  "There," he say's and reads it again with as much exclamative excitement as he can muster. "DEAR MOM!!"  he then adds "I Love you"  "hmm" he says  I think this one needs an exclamation point, too.  It's so easy to write one, it's just an upside down i"  He finishes his card and again reads it out loud getting every bit of exclamation out of his upside down i's as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is my favorite Christmas card this year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4796566387487194594?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4796566387487194594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4796566387487194594&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4796566387487194594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4796566387487194594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/12/chancees-chatterings-again.html' title='Chancee&apos;s chatterings, again'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uSHyQXA7Xgw/TujXUOJ13nI/AAAAAAAACIQ/3x1fIfzeWvY/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-894566126717616101</id><published>2011-12-10T08:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T15:30:30.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>So,  The washer repair man came over while I was in the middle of fixing dinner to put the new part in my washer.  It came in some of that nifty bubble wrap and he generously gave the bubble wrap to Oaklee, much to her delight.  She found great joy in tormenting Chance with the fact that she could control the bubble wrap and pop whatever she wanted while Chance stood there Green with envy.  It got to the point that Chance couldn't take it any more and began demanding, in a high pitched extremely loud voice that  he be allowed to pop at least one bubble.  OH NO!!  Oaklee was delighting in her control of the bubble wrap and continued to smugly pop away as Chance continued to use every tone of voice to convince anyone who would listen that he deserved to pop a bubble.  I finally intervened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Chance", says I " Those bubbles are highly over rated, run get me the scissors and I'll make you something. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See,  I had spied two paper plates sitting on the table and my childhood returned to me with a flash of ingenious awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Chance ran and got the scissors and then with his newly learned safety skills from Kindergarten pointed the scissors in the right direction as he carefully WALKED back to me with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom," says Chance as he hands me the scissors, " the circle on these scissors is kind of like a fulcrum and the other parts are like two levers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really,"  I say, and then in all seriousness ask, What's a fulcrum?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll show you." Says Chance as he picks up an apple and an orange out of the basket on the table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, the apple is the fulcrum," he says as he places it on the table, "and the banana is a lever."  he places the banana over the apple so that it looks like a very fruity see saw or teeter totter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could think of to say was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Chance,  What Grade are you in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly cut 8 slits in the edges around the paper plate folded the flaps I'd made in alternating directions and threw the now flying saucer looking thing and it flew beautifully to the floor where Chance ran to it with an exclamation of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WOW that's awesome, Mom" proving that he is, indeed, only 6 years old and in kindergarten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-894566126717616101?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/894566126717616101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=894566126717616101&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/894566126717616101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/894566126717616101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/12/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-870962190668805120</id><published>2011-11-25T13:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-25T13:39:27.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Giving and Straight from Santa's Workshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Boy, Thanksgiving came and went and here I sit. I read my sisters blog and it got me thinking about Things I'm thankful for. First off, I'm so thankful for where I am, no, not sitting in a chair in front of the computer blogging, but that, too. I'm thankful for where I am in life. I'm thankful for a companionship that is solid and sure. A man that has become more important to who I am then me. Children who allow me to see things from a point of view that makes me a better person: more patient, more tolerant, more aware of my actions, more loving, bolder, braver, more tender, busier....etc. I'm thankful for animals, Cows, sheep, pigs, horses, dogs, goats, parakeets....&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679033247532244610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyGuMbvLJU4/Ts_6plrK3oI/AAAAAAAACHs/Akt5xK3H8zQ/s200/003.JPG" /&gt; I'm thankful for good parents who serve more then we think they ought to. And I'm thankful for things that motivate. You know, like when your 6 year old uses to much toilet paper and it motivates you to use the plunger.....&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;grrrr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;normally&lt;/span&gt; I would shun from such an activity =) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will let that thought lead me into my next. Christmas has motivated me just a bit, too. so naturally I'm thankful for Christmas, as well. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 369px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679033690598716002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hnLoSmagsdU/Ts_7DYOcsmI/AAAAAAAACH4/3pmKTrfQhLY/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Here we are in Santa's.....I mean Mrs. Santa's workshop. These are a couple of the gifts in progress. I spent most of yesterday putting the cradle together, I'd cut it out a week or two earlier. The quilt took me a lot longer then I intended but I can make up for that in the two I have left to do. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;AHH&lt;/span&gt; Motivation. I've attempted to make something homemade for Christmas each year for my children It's led to quite a few projects that have been fun. Aubree, who is older already has one of these cradles, She's the one that suggested I make one for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;. I still have the finishing work to do. But I've found that I kinda enjoy projects like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-870962190668805120?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/870962190668805120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=870962190668805120&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/870962190668805120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/870962190668805120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanks-giving-and-straight-from-santas.html' title='Thanks Giving and Straight from Santa&apos;s Workshop'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyGuMbvLJU4/Ts_6plrK3oI/AAAAAAAACHs/Akt5xK3H8zQ/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4422280209447567223</id><published>2011-11-13T16:55:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T17:56:17.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kJHz7agjxiE/TsBajqDOH_I/AAAAAAAACHU/Y6UZc9mrJ_Q/s1600/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674635099116543986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kJHz7agjxiE/TsBajqDOH_I/AAAAAAAACHU/Y6UZc9mrJ_Q/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After an hour or more of raking the anticipation finally meets it's end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3-schWlKy2A/TsBajUgvnuI/AAAAAAAACHI/3ScuZA9cTTE/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674635093334793954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3-schWlKy2A/TsBajUgvnuI/AAAAAAAACHI/3ScuZA9cTTE/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6kC9v-QOHSw/TsBaimCpnpI/AAAAAAAACHA/RBYRPifpjfc/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674635080860540562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6kC9v-QOHSw/TsBaimCpnpI/AAAAAAAACHA/RBYRPifpjfc/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;THREE!!&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;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4w5oiyzQZk/TsBaiOmckSI/AAAAAAAACGw/mPu2cJzkaR4/s1600/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674635074568229154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4w5oiyzQZk/TsBaiOmckSI/AAAAAAAACGw/mPu2cJzkaR4/s400/006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;YAY!!!SSSSOOOO FFUUNNN!!!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 251px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674636003449858002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmxHYV6F_Pk/TsBbYS9FZ9I/AAAAAAAACHg/TebydRiQ-UI/s400/034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O.K. let's go in and get some Hot Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember, as a child, the excitement when the leaves were on the ground. We'd make plans to go out and rake up all the leaves in sight. Not just our yard full of leaves but we planned to rake every yard on the block and haul all the leaves to our house and make the biggest leaf pile in the world, and then we were gonna jump off the house into it because there would be no way in the world that we would get hurt with that many leaves to jump into So.....I couldn't help it Friday, when I looked out the window and saw my kids busily raking Grandmas leafs up. She lives across the street. (she has more leafs then we do and besides all our leafs blow into her yard.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I headed out to help rake, despite the fact that my dentist had told me to take it easy because I have two teeth that have decided that they are done with this life and are dying. He did a root canal on the one and prepared the other one for a root canal but the infection has apparently settled in my sinuses and refuses to leave and then it started to move up into my eye. I guess that's not a good thing and I could have ended up in the hospital but he sent me to the clinic to get a shot and the swelling had mostly gone down so I couldn't help it, and we raked leaves, and then jumped into them, I think twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was all worth it. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we spent part of the day on the mountain getting firewood. I'm not sure why, but That is one of my all time favorite things to do. I Love the sound of chainsaws. It's such a busy comforting sound, and implies warm cozy winter nights, curled up by the fire. I think I may like getting wood even more then the cozy winter nights with the fire blazing. But, ya can't have one with out the other. I'm just mad at myself for forgetting the camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;grrr!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6336248339197200150-4422280209447567223?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4422280209447567223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4422280209447567223&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4422280209447567223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4422280209447567223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/11/autumn.html' title='Autumn'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kJHz7agjxiE/TsBajqDOH_I/AAAAAAAACHU/Y6UZc9mrJ_Q/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1814266030413340686</id><published>2011-11-07T18:18:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T18:33:01.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does Spiderman do when he's not bsy rescuing people?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q90irCEcIrE/TriEl82MLII/AAAAAAAACGk/6Xdr-NT1NXU/s1600/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672429518196583554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q90irCEcIrE/TriEl82MLII/AAAAAAAACGk/6Xdr-NT1NXU/s400/011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So...What Does Spiderman do When He's not busy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A6_5lBKnOEU/TriElNdTK4I/AAAAAAAACGc/CoTORTK7cy4/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672429505475718018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A6_5lBKnOEU/TriElNdTK4I/AAAAAAAACGc/CoTORTK7cy4/s400/012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hmmmm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qAfi08uj-P0/TriEk7p88-I/AAAAAAAACGI/EnilhGMZixU/s1600/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672429500696949730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qAfi08uj-P0/TriEk7p88-I/AAAAAAAACGI/EnilhGMZixU/s400/013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;AH HA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672429493843598562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5sHL52RUlWk/TriEkiH_HOI/AAAAAAAACGA/oz0KqpAAyPw/s400/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually I discovered these two outside&lt;br /&gt;I think Oaklee Was in desperate need of a super hero. After all she couldn't build a snow man in her dress without help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1814266030413340686?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1814266030413340686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1814266030413340686&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1814266030413340686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1814266030413340686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-does-spiderman-do-when-hes-not-bsy.html' title='What Does Spiderman do when he&apos;s not bsy rescuing people?'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q90irCEcIrE/TriEl82MLII/AAAAAAAACGk/6Xdr-NT1NXU/s72-c/011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4293243129366509751</id><published>2011-11-01T13:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T13:47:12.502-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;A spooky parade&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xFoeaHHLELE/TrBKGgy8i1I/AAAAAAAACCc/aZdd8m7JdGA/s1600/three%2Bleft%2B025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670113406602742610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xFoeaHHLELE/TrBKGgy8i1I/AAAAAAAACCc/aZdd8m7JdGA/s400/three%2Bleft%2B025.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Except for this bunny. She was determined to have a costume that matched her two front teeth. and so....Sweet little not-so-scary bunny. She was a witch one year but for the most part she never has done scary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ACPEllegLlQ/TrBKGIechBI/AAAAAAAACCQ/MQnolwgV9dg/s1600/three%2Bleft%2B022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670113400074306578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ACPEllegLlQ/TrBKGIechBI/AAAAAAAACCQ/MQnolwgV9dg/s400/three%2Bleft%2B022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a kitten and a ghost. The kitten let me pick the easiest thing I could think of and was happy. Especially since she now has a pretty skirt to dance in.&lt;br /&gt;The Ghost kept switching from Super man to Indiana Jones to a ghost. I thought I had him talked into being Superman, but this morning he came to me and said, "Mom, I really think I need to be scarier I guess I'll be a Ghost." "grrrrr" says I in my head but I found an old sheet and quickly sewed a cape with a hood and painted his face. It worked, we all made it through Halloween one more year and it really wasn't to bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love Braden and Caib's Costumes!!! They were.......well......uh huh!! you guessed it..They were cowboys. I think for the last 15 years they've been cowboys in one way or the other about 85% of those years. =) That costume choice always makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4293243129366509751?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4293243129366509751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4293243129366509751&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4293243129366509751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4293243129366509751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xFoeaHHLELE/TrBKGgy8i1I/AAAAAAAACCc/aZdd8m7JdGA/s72-c/three%2Bleft%2B025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6454629703937275734</id><published>2011-10-24T18:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T19:25:47.140-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrifices of the hunt</title><content type='html'>Well, They did it! Last week end was a busy week end. Besides Chance's birthday The cows came home. I wish I had pictures of that!!! I spent the week end at home tending to a tooth that apparently has decided that 38 years after it was traumatized when my face and the road collided due to a car running into me because I had decided to go play with the neighbors instead of staying in the house and helping with the house work. There fore I have no pictures. But, I did go help bring the cows from one end of town to the other. I started out on horse back switched to a four wheeler for a few minutes and then switched back to a horse. I talked Braden into letting me ride his horse =) My favorite story from bringing the cows home involves Braden this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had decided he was thirsty and needed a drink of pop. He reached into his saddle bags grabbed his pop opened it and started to take a drink just as a calf took off. Well &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Braden's&lt;/span&gt; cowboy self kicked in and he spurred his horse to go after it with, yes, his pop still open and just one swallow gone from the bottle. The horse must have decided that if Braden was getting a drink that he was going to get a little breather, so when Braden spurred her she didn't take off after that colt she lit in to bucking. Braden road it out, got the horse calmed down and THEN put the lid back on his drink with not one drop of pop spilled. I wish I could have captured the grin on that 15 year &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; face when he told me the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we planned and prepared for Chances party , while the boys vaccinated weaned and worked the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;calf's&lt;/span&gt;. That was Friday. Saturday was the opening day of the dear hunt. Every one but myself and the little est was up and gone at 6:30 AM &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; They spent the day driving around in the mountains looking at lots of other hunters. But according to Aubree they had SO MUCH FUN!!! Sunday was spent, of course at church and swapping hunting stories with who ever had a story to tell. and that night two very anxious boys worked as hard as they could on home work that if they could finish and have ready to turn in, they could miss school on Monday for one last day of serious hunting. That back fired a little on me...I was up till midnight helping them finish up =) &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEo102ggKho/TqYF5CRIlSI/AAAAAAAACCE/9WMPp9mx1N8/s1600/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667223658511766818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEo102ggKho/TqYF5CRIlSI/AAAAAAAACCE/9WMPp9mx1N8/s400/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ah, but it was worth it!! Why is it that this mom finds more joy and excitement in the joy and excitement of her kids then...well....just about anything else. I'm sure glad they got their homework done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9NduNqCSc8/TqYF42M_HUI/AAAAAAAACB4/LBoDto4n5jE/s1600/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667223655273143618" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9NduNqCSc8/TqYF42M_HUI/AAAAAAAACB4/LBoDto4n5jE/s400/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Well," says I, "Try to look happy about your Bucks!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and they did. I suggest clicking on the picture to get the full effect of their Joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6454629703937275734?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6454629703937275734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6454629703937275734&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6454629703937275734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6454629703937275734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/sacrifices-of-hunt.html' title='Sacrifices of the hunt'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEo102ggKho/TqYF5CRIlSI/AAAAAAAACCE/9WMPp9mx1N8/s72-c/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3079448981461520367</id><published>2011-10-21T20:44:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T21:19:09.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Chance.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Our family tradition............First thing in the morning we open presents. Dad loves giving presents and first thing in the is the only time he get's to be around to watch the excitement.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_vxO_d2Nc0/TqIxMPYjjCI/AAAAAAAACBs/8GfyI1xik6Y/s1600/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666145367543221282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_vxO_d2Nc0/TqIxMPYjjCI/AAAAAAAACBs/8GfyI1xik6Y/s400/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bradens so excited he can hardly stand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Obz0lOx8tBU/TqIxL-kYccI/AAAAAAAACBg/dFKMr3UStWU/s1600/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666145363029422530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Obz0lOx8tBU/TqIxL-kYccI/AAAAAAAACBg/dFKMr3UStWU/s400/008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The opening begins. Notice the pretty pink wrapping paper? That's all I had. Chance didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esRB3b5_8j8/TqIwe0zEsWI/AAAAAAAACBU/YRaPVsaz1_g/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666144587312574818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esRB3b5_8j8/TqIwe0zEsWI/AAAAAAAACBU/YRaPVsaz1_g/s400/012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; LOOK MOMM!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ted64ni475U/TqIwerriUXI/AAAAAAAACBI/Mg_CgGaRo0o/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666144584865042802" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ted64ni475U/TqIwerriUXI/AAAAAAAACBI/Mg_CgGaRo0o/s400/009.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The excited expression or....Wow expression&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTX1Qhx8S_I/TqIwdmadonI/AAAAAAAACBA/FkH6AJtYBak/s1600/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666144566271386226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTX1Qhx8S_I/TqIwdmadonI/AAAAAAAACBA/FkH6AJtYBak/s400/019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The thing he wanted more then anything else....an Indiana Jones Hat!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the present opening is done and the day unfolds as a fairly normal day.......except we happen to have our very own party chairman in this family and she took control again. We always have a blast when she does!! Today was no exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMrMxeadOTY/TqIwdAxMGsI/AAAAAAAACAw/rtXuFKVXxfc/s1600/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666144556166159042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMrMxeadOTY/TqIwdAxMGsI/AAAAAAAACAw/rtXuFKVXxfc/s400/024.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all the work for the day is done Dad came to get Chance so that we could prepare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance and Dad coming home from the store with snacks for a big day of hunting tomorrow. Chance's reaction to our jumping out in the dark with the candles lit on his cake and yelling "SURPRISE!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7J3CjBWqOSE/TqIwc77aU9I/AAAAAAAACAk/FeGocLoKEhU/s1600/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666144554866856914" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7J3CjBWqOSE/TqIwc77aU9I/AAAAAAAACAk/FeGocLoKEhU/s400/025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Cake!! Yes it's a Ghost. That's what Chance wanted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wE2oKepdPXI/TqIvRcYE7wI/AAAAAAAACAY/NU8pGmcT_Tg/s1600/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666143257906966274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wE2oKepdPXI/TqIvRcYE7wI/AAAAAAAACAY/NU8pGmcT_Tg/s400/029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What games do you play at a birthday party for a kid that was born on the opening day of the dear hunt? PIN THE NOSE ON THE CLOWN? NOPE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTGD-RKI-Go/TqIvQmL2nTI/AAAAAAAACAI/izdW-K6HMcg/s1600/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666143243360181554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTGD-RKI-Go/TqIvQmL2nTI/AAAAAAAACAI/izdW-K6HMcg/s400/028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is our very own party Chairman Playing Shoot the nose on the clown.&lt;br /&gt;Aubree celebrating after she finally figured out how to work the bow and arrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Af052jULnOo/TqIvQdrRztI/AAAAAAAAB_8/df_p98BknJk/s1600/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666143241076068050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Af052jULnOo/TqIvQdrRztI/AAAAAAAAB_8/df_p98BknJk/s400/027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caib taking his turn. He may be too old for pin the nose on the clown but....Shoot the nose on the clown!! Now that's FUN!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bWAmAEopCfg/TqIvPxZA0FI/AAAAAAAAB_w/S3cC42lHjnw/s1600/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666143229188296786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bWAmAEopCfg/TqIvPxZA0FI/AAAAAAAAB_w/S3cC42lHjnw/s400/034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Braden won. He's number seven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YFZsSfMFbl8/TqIvPZ_0SsI/AAAAAAAAB_k/XN922JZVE_M/s1600/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666143222908603074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YFZsSfMFbl8/TqIvPZ_0SsI/AAAAAAAAB_k/XN922JZVE_M/s400/032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think we had another Great Birthday!! Chance sure enjoyed the day.......and the cake!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday Chance!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love your excitement for life I love your funny comments and mostly I love, Love, LOVE how you are so full of Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All day long Whenever Chance came into the same room as me he would sigh and say, "Mom, you're the best Mom ever. I love you!"&lt;br /&gt;The best thing about that is.....He does that ever day of his life at least once a day, but usually a Bazzillion times a day=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3079448981461520367?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3079448981461520367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3079448981461520367&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3079448981461520367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3079448981461520367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/happy-birthday-chance.html' title='Happy Birthday Chance.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_vxO_d2Nc0/TqIxMPYjjCI/AAAAAAAACBs/8GfyI1xik6Y/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1684036344150744960</id><published>2011-10-19T15:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T16:02:45.213-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Job Shadow</title><content type='html'>O.K. first off, When the kids have an assignment in school to pick a job and find somebody who does that job and ask them if you can follow them around for a day. You have to take into consideration the age of the kids, the job opportunities that are available in the area that your in, and how many of the kids will actually really put some thought into the assignment instead of waiting till the last minute, say like 10:00 pm the night before the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;assignment&lt;/span&gt; is due or at least the part where they have to get permission papers signed from the person they have chosen to shadow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Now we have two options left...either go with dad to work, which the kids have been strongly counseled to avoid at all costs unless approved by the mentor. or call your nearest relative and pray that they won't mind having a pesky 8&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grader following them around all day. especially when their seasonal job is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;petering&lt;/span&gt; out for the season. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z82kwSwbeqU/Tp9EtA4tOXI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/JZcmXJmr3qI/s1600/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665322396378020210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z82kwSwbeqU/Tp9EtA4tOXI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/JZcmXJmr3qI/s400/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B044.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Luckily Uncle Mike didn't mind and even though his client didn't connect with them &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; learned all about how to be a fishing guide......Sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yp0GMW_pchM/Tp9ETj-Hv9I/AAAAAAAAB_M/lJhtEaEDcQw/s1600/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665321959119372242" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yp0GMW_pchM/Tp9ETj-Hv9I/AAAAAAAAB_M/lJhtEaEDcQw/s400/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Or at least a client.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1684036344150744960?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1684036344150744960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1684036344150744960&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1684036344150744960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1684036344150744960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/job-shadow.html' title='Job Shadow'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z82kwSwbeqU/Tp9EtA4tOXI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/JZcmXJmr3qI/s72-c/Largest%2Bmale%2Band%2Bfemale%2B044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1000966680048260900</id><published>2011-10-15T12:52:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T13:05:35.166-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2gf2hFMd6GA/TpnZClh7i7I/AAAAAAAAB_A/NJzhuLwfYew/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663796644852501426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2gf2hFMd6GA/TpnZClh7i7I/AAAAAAAAB_A/NJzhuLwfYew/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My little Oak Tree in all its splendor. With a beautiful Autumn sky in the back ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0glC64pGYRo/TpnW0mqvigI/AAAAAAAAB-o/b0M_ATAQtac/s1600/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663794205616474626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0glC64pGYRo/TpnW0mqvigI/AAAAAAAAB-o/b0M_ATAQtac/s400/011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Enjoying a gift all year long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AYnluD2vi6c/TpnWsW9FofI/AAAAAAAAB-c/LfGkvz-wNfA/s1600/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663794063959499250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AYnluD2vi6c/TpnWsW9FofI/AAAAAAAAB-c/LfGkvz-wNfA/s400/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There's nothing quite as cute as the face of a child with pure delight on their face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Oak tree in the pictures is the gift I'm referring too. It was a mothers day/ birthday present for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663795250613316498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NkLy5CY91hc/TpnXxblZ65I/AAAAAAAAB-0/VNFA1wvVtA0/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, since it is an Oak tree. Oaklee is determined that it's her tree.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1000966680048260900?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1000966680048260900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1000966680048260900&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1000966680048260900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1000966680048260900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/childhood-fun.html' title='Childhood Fun'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2gf2hFMd6GA/TpnZClh7i7I/AAAAAAAAB_A/NJzhuLwfYew/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5582738100592915899</id><published>2011-10-06T09:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T09:45:10.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj2slOodKpg/To3MrkoOTmI/AAAAAAAAB-U/lREGcgd7hIs/s1600/Picture%2B002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660405355613408866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj2slOodKpg/To3MrkoOTmI/AAAAAAAAB-U/lREGcgd7hIs/s400/Picture%2B002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes this is today!!I think I'll curl up with some hot chocolate and a good book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can't tell from the incredibly good photograph, but those snow flakes that are coming down are pretty serious!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5582738100592915899?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5582738100592915899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5582738100592915899&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5582738100592915899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5582738100592915899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/winter.html' title='Winter?'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj2slOodKpg/To3MrkoOTmI/AAAAAAAAB-U/lREGcgd7hIs/s72-c/Picture%2B002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8201811599789763505</id><published>2011-10-05T11:48:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T12:13:13.437-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Herd, a Princess, and the Book</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ah...pictured here are 6 of our 8 purebred Australian shepherd puppies. Soo cute!!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aNABFOMGdPQ/ToyZRtorndI/AAAAAAAAB-M/cbzKiVXVQsQ/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660067361284922834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aNABFOMGdPQ/ToyZRtorndI/AAAAAAAAB-M/cbzKiVXVQsQ/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B003.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well....at least I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzTHEVzS7nE/ToyZRZwH-LI/AAAAAAAAB-E/2nvnQzDoN0g/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660067355947432114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzTHEVzS7nE/ToyZRZwH-LI/AAAAAAAAB-E/2nvnQzDoN0g/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is cute, too.&lt;br /&gt;October first was Bradens birthday. I was busy bottling plumb and boysenberry jam, so when I was at the store getting a few necessary items and Oaklee asked me if she could buy this crown and earrings for a dollar, I decided it might just last long enough for me to finish what I was doing. I told her sure, she could get it. when we got back out to the pick up I said to her...."Hey, It's Bradens birthday not yours." She looked up at me and said " I give this to Bwaden for his birfday"&lt;br /&gt;"are you sure," says I "because I know he'll really love it, or do you want me to open it for you?" she looked at it longingly for a minute and then said to me,&lt;br /&gt;"No, It's for Bwaden"&lt;br /&gt;"OK"&lt;br /&gt;I say as we pull out on to main street and head for home. We arrived 30 seconds later and she hands me the package with the crown and the earrings and says.&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe you can open it for Bwaden wight now."&lt;br /&gt;"OK" I say with a hidden smile.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think braden will mind if you play with it for a little while."&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong.....It only lasted long enough for me to take a couple of pictures of her. I was so hoping I could have gotten a picture of Braden, too. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;Crown and earings.................$1.06&lt;br /&gt;conversation with my three year old.....................priceless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Book!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iY4rJhQq8AY/ToyZRPLdf9I/AAAAAAAAB98/34aV561P8KY/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660067353109299154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iY4rJhQq8AY/ToyZRPLdf9I/AAAAAAAAB98/34aV561P8KY/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It came in the mail today. it ended up costing Misty and I each 19.00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--k6OvQmrcSQ/ToyZQzp7sUI/AAAAAAAAB90/oMwx05NG2FU/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660067345720914242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--k6OvQmrcSQ/ToyZQzp7sUI/AAAAAAAAB90/oMwx05NG2FU/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But..........&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;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VYjTtZk4WM0/ToyZQF4cocI/AAAAAAAAB9s/z_AxhxiEsbM/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660067333433762242" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VYjTtZk4WM0/ToyZQF4cocI/AAAAAAAAB9s/z_AxhxiEsbM/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's Priceless!!&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8201811599789763505?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8201811599789763505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8201811599789763505&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8201811599789763505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8201811599789763505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/herd-princess-and-book.html' title='A Herd, a Princess, and the Book'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aNABFOMGdPQ/ToyZRtorndI/AAAAAAAAB-M/cbzKiVXVQsQ/s72-c/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5505477908818486841</id><published>2011-10-03T08:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T09:01:24.438-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>Fall colors on the mountain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's always amazing to drive up on the mountains this time of year. We always try to make at least one trip as a family to see the fall colors. Funny how each year though we've seen it the year before, brings new awe and a renewed feeling of contentment. At least that's the feeling I get in the Autumn time. So After Conference on Sunday, We all piled into the pick up with a bag of apples and some left over cowboy mix from yesterdays activity, bringing the lambs home. And we headed south towards Antelope spring.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KjG3LrLpuug/TonIK_RTC-I/AAAAAAAAB9k/mpnQZsP2YxQ/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659274492256082338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9pG3HWuuJ2Y/TonIKqVaWaI/AAAAAAAAB9c/QRah6I6XPUo/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B182.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;After driving by many groves of color &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659274497875971042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KjG3LrLpuug/TonIK_RTC-I/AAAAAAAAB9k/mpnQZsP2YxQ/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B152.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The first thing I did was make Roger stop for an annual kids photo shoot. This looked like a likely place. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MxFANxsu8xg/TonIKVAA6iI/AAAAAAAAB9U/AEQ3JdJHqfA/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659274486529190434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MxFANxsu8xg/TonIKVAA6iI/AAAAAAAAB9U/AEQ3JdJHqfA/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B154.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I proceed to snap shot's while Roger danced behind me to get some smiles out of EVERYONE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-km2YP0c_EoA/TonIKDpURxI/AAAAAAAAB9M/R5dz_7AoeTQ/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659274481870587666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-km2YP0c_EoA/TonIKDpURxI/AAAAAAAAB9M/R5dz_7AoeTQ/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B161.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caib HATES pictures, He was trying extremely hard to be a good sport. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure makes it easier to try to get a good shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oM7MW2MnVHg/TonIJ57Go6I/AAAAAAAAB9E/fdm3srZVJeM/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659274479260836770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oM7MW2MnVHg/TonIJ57Go6I/AAAAAAAAB9E/fdm3srZVJeM/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B164.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So I finish up with that shot spot and realize that Chance had his hood on the whole time. I make him take it off and snap one more of these two (Chance without his hood on) and threaten Chance with.....nothing serious, If he EVER leaves his hood on during another stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hqCIG2ptaE0/TonG1QFoHyI/AAAAAAAAB88/_WnzhvssDJg/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273024921673506" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hqCIG2ptaE0/TonG1QFoHyI/AAAAAAAAB88/_WnzhvssDJg/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B169.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Notice, No hood. Caps are O.K. that's just who they are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dad, still in the back of me doing.....who knows what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IJMWLGZ-ebI/TonG1J1wgoI/AAAAAAAAB80/BuE1kvXJkhg/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273023244501634" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IJMWLGZ-ebI/TonG1J1wgoI/AAAAAAAAB80/BuE1kvXJkhg/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B174.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One other thing I love, probably most of all about Autumn time... The sky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xDmXVKWjxU/TonG0i1SG4I/AAAAAAAAB8s/S9I2N2MNF0o/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273012773526402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xDmXVKWjxU/TonG0i1SG4I/AAAAAAAAB8s/S9I2N2MNF0o/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B184.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After pictures we gathered beautiful fall leaves of mostly yellow, but there were some red and orange leaves thrown in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MvA9AwtSWjc/TonG0ZOUOUI/AAAAAAAAB8k/gj2_oAoXIjg/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273010194168130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MvA9AwtSWjc/TonG0ZOUOUI/AAAAAAAAB8k/gj2_oAoXIjg/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B190.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course we stopped numerous times to throw rocks into the ponds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cBnqWvxsr2s/TonG0G8R6wI/AAAAAAAAB8c/jamOsZYuwqM/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273005286681346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cBnqWvxsr2s/TonG0G8R6wI/AAAAAAAAB8c/jamOsZYuwqM/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B194.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even the older boys&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;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hVuy3aVJho/TonFXfAvkTI/AAAAAAAAB8U/MJHfFdZiVDI/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B193.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659271414020018482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hVuy3aVJho/TonFXfAvkTI/AAAAAAAAB8U/MJHfFdZiVDI/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B193.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Still love to throw rocks or skip them=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We made it to Antelope Spring.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gohPMKokYrg/TonFXEGRJyI/AAAAAAAAB8M/TiU8a5eY0YQ/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659271406795433762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gohPMKokYrg/TonFXEGRJyI/AAAAAAAAB8M/TiU8a5eY0YQ/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B204.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what is so intriguing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8RC0As70oiI/TonFW9kw33I/AAAAAAAAB8E/ll8i28z4fe8/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B206.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659271405044293490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8RC0As70oiI/TonFW9kw33I/AAAAAAAAB8E/ll8i28z4fe8/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B206.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, As we got out to walk around and enjoy the beauty of the place. The boy's noticed the dew on the Quaky leaves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1jA-HAD4pqo/TonFWnhzgAI/AAAAAAAAB78/HvSB0d1SYOM/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659271399126302722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1jA-HAD4pqo/TonFWnhzgAI/AAAAAAAAB78/HvSB0d1SYOM/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B207.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Survival mode kicks in and yes, we all had to tate the dew and comment on how refreshing it was. Especially since we'd been in the mountains for day's with nothing but the clothes on our backs and no water within.......oh wait we just threw rocks into a whole pond of water.....hmmmmm!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tr3W5e_u1ZM/TonFWL5FFCI/AAAAAAAAB70/gWSOGmj--LU/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659271391707730978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tr3W5e_u1ZM/TonFWL5FFCI/AAAAAAAAB70/gWSOGmj--LU/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B214.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And so the sun set on aother wonderful day and we headed home to begin another week of toil mingled with laughter, occaisional complaints about homework, and State baseball!&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;&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;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5505477908818486841?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5505477908818486841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5505477908818486841&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5505477908818486841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5505477908818486841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-colors-on-mountain.html' title='Fall colors on the mountain'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9pG3HWuuJ2Y/TonIKqVaWaI/AAAAAAAAB9c/QRah6I6XPUo/s72-c/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B182.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2087239409891225364</id><published>2011-09-28T10:29:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T11:17:17.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More green tomatoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, After the salsa I tried Relish,  then I made a green tomato cake, and then I tried a green tomato Jam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UbCXZWuTEAk/ToNL1eq_3nI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/dxj-OKpgYJk/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B129.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UbCXZWuTEAk/ToNL1eq_3nI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/dxj-OKpgYJk/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B129.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657448939046035058" /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The cake took first believe it or not &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UbCXZWuTEAk/ToNL1eq_3nI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/dxj-OKpgYJk/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B129.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-86C56-fhYEY/ToNVrkqghaI/AAAAAAAAB7o/N-BL_PZB4kA/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B131.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657459763972179362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;See there really are green tomatoes in it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The relish came in second with the salsa a close third.  The Jam hmmmm I'm not sure it comes in at all but, I did reserve a small corner of my fruit room in the very back corner for the 8 pints I got.  Not my favorite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really Liked the Cake and so......For those of you out there as crazy as me.  Here the recipe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Green Tomato Cake&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ingredients&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;4 cups chopped green tomatoes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;1/2 cup unsalted butter (I used low fat margarine, That's all I had)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;2 cups sugar( I used Brown, I just thought it sounded better)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;2 eggs ( I used fresh eggs, that's all I had)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;2 cups flour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;1 tsp each of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;1 tsp baking soda&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: left;"&gt;1/2 cup chopped pecans (my favorite Part)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Instructions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;place finely chopped tomatoes in a bow land cover with salt for 15 minutes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drain, RINSE WELL. cream butter and sugar, add eggs one at a time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beat until creamy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;add dry ingredients and nuts.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fold in tomatoes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;pour into a greased 13x9 pan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bake at 350 for 40 minutes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cool and frost with cream cheese frosting.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;12 large servings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I've, actually, had a fun time with all these green tomatoes. (Thanks Roger) I still have a bucket left and the weeks not over with, but I think I'll take a break today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't miss out on this great cake!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It really is good! &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/6336248339197200150-2087239409891225364?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2087239409891225364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2087239409891225364&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2087239409891225364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2087239409891225364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/more-green-tomatoes.html' title='More green tomatoes'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UbCXZWuTEAk/ToNL1eq_3nI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/dxj-OKpgYJk/s72-c/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B129.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1917158546021577710</id><published>2011-09-26T17:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T18:02:15.194-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='canning'/><title type='text'>Green Tomatoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hlKXFtQcH0Q/ToEPEfdINGI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/MjDm_Mkev_U/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B126.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hlKXFtQcH0Q/ToEPEfdINGI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/MjDm_Mkev_U/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B126.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656819176791618658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah!!! Green Tomatoes and quite a few this year.  we usually don't get near this many.  I'm not even going to bother telling you or showing you how many red tomatoes we get each year, ahem. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;next to none  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;We try every year though, and this year we tried extra hard.  it's just that when you live at over 7,000 feet in elevation and you don't have a green house it's very unlikely that you'll get many tomatoes.  Last year it froze every month of the year.......we didn't get any tomatoes last year:0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;But,  Roger was determine that this year the tomatoes were not going to waste so he looked up a green tomato salsa recipe and handed it to me with a green tomato and apple jam recipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UK40wgB1_N4/ToEN6Mig3MI/AAAAAAAAB7A/SAidl_aj21E/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B125.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UK40wgB1_N4/ToEN6Mig3MI/AAAAAAAAB7A/SAidl_aj21E/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B125.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656817900403612866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I started with the salsa one.  It's really quite good!!  The recipe told me I'd get three quarts or six pints with one batch.  Uh?  I ended up with thirteen pints.  Oh well.  I think I'll do two more batches and use the rest of the tomatoes to try the jam.   Sooo if there's anyone out there with a really good recipe that uses green tomatoes send it this way I'd be happy to try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1917158546021577710?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1917158546021577710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1917158546021577710&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1917158546021577710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1917158546021577710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/green-tomatoes.html' title='Green Tomatoes'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hlKXFtQcH0Q/ToEPEfdINGI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/MjDm_Mkev_U/s72-c/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B126.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-278493403074925913</id><published>2011-09-24T20:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T21:38:08.821-06:00</updated><title type='text'>That Little Cowboy</title><content type='html'>I hope my neighbor dosen't get mad at me for doing this, but I couldn't resist. In August for our county fair I am in charge of a cowboy poetry contest for the youth. My neighbors have 8 little blond haired girls and they have entered the contest every year. They always do a REALLY cute job with their poems but this year the little 5 year old's poem stole my heart and made me grin. Here's why: Chance is five, too. They live right be hind us with a wood fence in between our yards and theirs. This was her poem. Her Mom wrote it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Little Cowboy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a little cowboy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That I see most every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He don't know I'm watching him,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's probably best that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I see that little Cowboy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Through a knothole in my fence,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And the things I see him do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To me, don't make no sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I saw him climb on his dog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trying hard to get a ride.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But all that ever happened &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Was the dog and ground collide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Once he was being pecked at&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;By a hen he'd tried to rope,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I reckon It's a boy thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Though I sure don't get it--NOPE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I've got a little secret&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That I'll only tell to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think that cowboy sure is cute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I know he likes me, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cuz, sometimes when I'm playin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can see him watch me, too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've even heard him whistle&lt;br /&gt;through that hole a time or two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Misty Knutson-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So.. I suggested that maybe we ought to take some pictures and do a photo book. Here's some of the pictures we ended up with.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WdsG5vqj7gE/Tn6fwLvWhtI/AAAAAAAAB64/sONk9k9Bav4/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656133832157857490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WdsG5vqj7gE/Tn6fwLvWhtI/AAAAAAAAB64/sONk9k9Bav4/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B020.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xHqpL7nvQKI/Tn6fwOslipI/AAAAAAAAB6w/a0ZMmPhYheo/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656133832951564946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xHqpL7nvQKI/Tn6fwOslipI/AAAAAAAAB6w/a0ZMmPhYheo/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B080.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7PCpENq112U/Tn6fv9sZlvI/AAAAAAAAB6o/9R2wsICyjuY/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656133828387378930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7PCpENq112U/Tn6fv9sZlvI/AAAAAAAAB6o/9R2wsICyjuY/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B031.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWb_mqRNEOM/Tn6dUGd8aUI/AAAAAAAAB6g/PhL31ePLD7s/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656131150683072834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWb_mqRNEOM/Tn6dUGd8aUI/AAAAAAAAB6g/PhL31ePLD7s/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6QFgr4alK8/Tn6dTwFqXWI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/oJf7ideC-To/s1600/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656131144675646818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6QFgr4alK8/Tn6dTwFqXWI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/oJf7ideC-To/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B042.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656131143542521906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EI4K5zlAAew/Tn6dTr3gQDI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/Rc8cdLIRUTw/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B119.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656131137177019746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7_N_w8Yl1w8/Tn6dTUJ2ZWI/AAAAAAAAB6I/oxLUbEmL4Fs/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B094.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656131135448923698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TyRBiPeVYGs/Tn6dTNt1vjI/AAAAAAAAB6A/FnvxC_9I6Gw/s400/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B113.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Scrolling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Leave&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Comment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&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;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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;:O&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whew!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-278493403074925913?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/278493403074925913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=278493403074925913&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/278493403074925913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/278493403074925913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/that-little-cowboy.html' title='That Little Cowboy'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WdsG5vqj7gE/Tn6fwLvWhtI/AAAAAAAAB64/sONk9k9Bav4/s72-c/The%2BCowboy%2Bnextdoor%2B020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6843588678721304856</id><published>2011-09-18T15:33:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T19:11:38.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9xomPqRn_qY/TnZwguQz5UI/AAAAAAAAB54/wonsCi6qbMA/s1600/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653830089686902082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9xomPqRn_qY/TnZwguQz5UI/AAAAAAAAB54/wonsCi6qbMA/s400/022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Saturday morning Amongst the hustle and bustle of Dad and the older boys getting ready to go up on the mountain to herd, I yelled at every one to get their dirty clothes up the stairs if they wanted clean clothes for school next week. Of course no one responded and so after the three be&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fore&lt;/span&gt; mentioned left I thought that at least the ones left could get there clothes into the wash so I suggested to Chance that he should get his clothes upstairs even if no one else did. He headed down stairs and I continued getting everything ready to bottle peaches. soon I heard some grunting and groaning coming from the basement and I went to the top of the stairs to see what was causing such vocal &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;exertion&lt;/span&gt;. Chance sat at the bottom of the stairs with his large purple bucket filled to the brim with clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" says I, "Did Braden and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; talk you into bringing their clothes for them?" I ask, some what exasperated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope," says Chance, "I just got an Idea and I did it." says Chance with one finger in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess our Family Home Evening lesson on service and the talks we gave in church on service worked. At least Saturday morning when the clothes needed brought up and some people hadn't done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank heaven for the little things that make a mothers &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;insistent&lt;/span&gt; hen pecking all worth it. There are some times when I wonder if all the lessons are even penetrating their little skulls.&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;&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;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6843588678721304856?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6843588678721304856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6843588678721304856&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6843588678721304856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6843588678721304856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9xomPqRn_qY/TnZwguQz5UI/AAAAAAAAB54/wonsCi6qbMA/s72-c/022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1305857330009404157</id><published>2011-09-15T11:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T13:01:35.384-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>well...........  hm</title><content type='html'>So... I've sat down to blog a hundred times and either given up or been called away by desperately needy children. I'm going through a "how boring" stage. Everything I do seems redundant, repetitive and reclusive and so in an attempt to not bore my two maybe three readers out there, I've bored you with silence. Maybe I do need winter to get here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Braden's enjoying high school (snicker) He has no choice. Actually he's enjoying being on the baseball team. The last game they had he hit the ball and then barely beat the ball to first base causing many people to marvel at his speed he usually hides it quite well with his slow, suave, swagger. He then stole second, made it to third on a hit and then scored the winning run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caib's loving being a big 8th grader in the middle school. He is doing exceptionally well in school except for the musical tryouts that he was required to sing at. He came home and told me of the complete bomb it was. I asked him if he got a part in the play and he told me "well, not a lead part." "That's probably best," says I, with a wink. He grinned and nodded. Caib also got a job at the local Napa Auto store cleaning and helping out for a couple of hours after school. He seems to enjoy that. He also started up with guitar lessons this fall a couple of times a month. maybe he could accompany a good singer one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aubree 4th grade sigh.....She's growing up way to fast for me. Aubree is an exceptional student. She has the only male teacher in the school this year and she's doing quite well. I sure wish there were more good men teachers. Aubree is still taking piano lessons and does a good job with music. She loves to come to me and make me sing with her. I used to love to sing with my sisters and it's fun to watch Aubree develop an interest in music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chance loves school. Of course that kid just loves to learn. He collects facts and randomly shares them with me. For example...This morning while getting ready for school he says to me, "Mom, did you know that the stars are still up in the sky right now? They're just hiding behind the sun, oh and did you know that the sun is just a big star?" "Sure enough, Chance. I reply. and did you know that a caterpillars cocoon is called a crysalyx and he even knows how many days the caterpillar stays in the crysalyx before it comes forth as a beautiful butterfly. He told me yesterday that he, among other things is going to be an airplane pilot when he grows up because they fly faster then helicopters. and on and on.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oaklee's adjusting well to Chance being gone for 3 hours a day. I think she enjoys having the whole house to herself. She loves to get out her stuffed animals and set them up and play with them. I hear her in there just talking away. It also makes it nice when Chance does come home because Chance and Oaklee act as if they haven't seen each other in forever and they talk and play and get along extremely well. Oaklee loves to sing, too. she has a song for everything and I think her favorite song is "the eensy weensy spider"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so life continues on and I thought I'd better blog about it before I forget about it. I guess it's not as boring as I perceived it to be. It's just sometimes it can seem mundane and tedious. But, I love it. I love watching my children grow. some are at stages where I cringe and think "Oh, I'm SSOOOO glad I don't have to live through that again." and some are at fun points in there lives that bring back fun memories and longings that I'd maybe taken more advantage of my youth and excelled in more things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1305857330009404157?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1305857330009404157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1305857330009404157&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1305857330009404157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1305857330009404157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/well-hm.html' title='well...........  hm'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8016828787811365755</id><published>2011-09-06T13:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T13:30:14.621-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's big Day.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649328488105596546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LilJF-TsV50/TmZyVBkHVoI/AAAAAAAAB5w/rGgYh4X1cto/s400/027.JPG" /&gt;Of course Oaklee is excited, almost three whole hours with mom, all to herself, as.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P5Z4EQFT7QQ/TmZyULlDqEI/AAAAAAAAB5g/3s7Mo09RNlY/s1600/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649328473614035010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P5Z4EQFT7QQ/TmZyULlDqEI/AAAAAAAAB5g/3s7Mo09RNlY/s400/032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chance finally begins his first day of Kindergarten. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649328487122411634" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZhMsT8Q7tE/TmZyU95tIHI/AAAAAAAAB5o/xVMtHlMjo8o/s400/033.JPG" /&gt;Chance and his Kindergarten teacher. She's taught all my kids Kindergarten and they all gave her a big compliment today as they each told Chance how lucky he was to be in Kindergarten. Aubree wishes she could have had her as a teacher for every grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JhwHI_UCSwQ/TmZyTt0MAzI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/_uPnJ4m91C8/s1600/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649328465624433458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JhwHI_UCSwQ/TmZyTt0MAzI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/_uPnJ4m91C8/s400/029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pigs on the brain. We had a reunion this last weekend and For some odd reason I was inspired to quickly whip up these cupcakes to take......hmmmmm&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;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ppQekvIJ-WY/TmZyTT6hI4I/AAAAAAAAB5Q/1aXNDmeh-Gw/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649328458671661954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ppQekvIJ-WY/TmZyTT6hI4I/AAAAAAAAB5Q/1aXNDmeh-Gw/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And....Here we go again. Uncle Shannon decided to give this horse to Braden and Caib for a little work they did for him this last summer. They've decided that after they get her good and broke that she'll be my horse since I don't have a horse that is officially mine and I really like bay horses. This is Caib riding her for the first time. She did lay down and roll with him but I was so busy making sure Caib was O.K. that I for got to take a picture. sigh....mothers!!&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8016828787811365755?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8016828787811365755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8016828787811365755&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8016828787811365755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8016828787811365755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/chancees-big-day.html' title='Chancee&apos;s big Day.......'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LilJF-TsV50/TmZyVBkHVoI/AAAAAAAAB5w/rGgYh4X1cto/s72-c/027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-204975264894342733</id><published>2011-09-02T10:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T11:11:28.762-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We would Like to introduce.......</title><content type='html'>Yes, We have a new addition down here on the farm, Four new additions to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zc4KJoMdKJ0/TmEFpuHLYBI/AAAAAAAAB5I/nB4DnGG2Os4/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647801622010224658" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zc4KJoMdKJ0/TmEFpuHLYBI/AAAAAAAAB5I/nB4DnGG2Os4/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We have Wilbur, the white one. Puffin, the black and white one. Herman the red one in the back and Sassy the big red female in front. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Warning:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;These names are subject to change at any given time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AUcKGi18n_s/TmEFpURSGjI/AAAAAAAAB5A/5wb2oCKkScw/s1600/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 228px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647801615073286706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AUcKGi18n_s/TmEFpURSGjI/AAAAAAAAB5A/5wb2oCKkScw/s400/006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What is it about pigs that makes a person wonder.....I always get this uneasy feeling that pigs have some sort of human like characteristics that make them slightly more intelligent then the average farm animal. I find myself talking to them as if they should understand. I expect more out of them then I would, say a cow chewing her cud. I don't know... maybe it's just me and my pig like qualities that are a bit scary..... uh, ahem..... anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2X7yUbKnGw/TmEFpPr8_fI/AAAAAAAAB44/m_UmQ9_II7g/s1600/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 285px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647801613842972146" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2X7yUbKnGw/TmEFpPr8_fI/AAAAAAAAB44/m_UmQ9_II7g/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I do have to say for a dirty little animal I think they are pretty durn cute!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cAVfMEjEw90/TmEFo4cfwhI/AAAAAAAAB4w/lAXGV3e6tjI/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647801607604126226" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cAVfMEjEw90/TmEFo4cfwhI/AAAAAAAAB4w/lAXGV3e6tjI/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are the two littlest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There ya go....What? You may ask, Will our country cousins obtain next. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always wanted a donkey..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-204975264894342733?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/204975264894342733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=204975264894342733&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/204975264894342733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/204975264894342733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-would-like-to-introduce.html' title='We would Like to introduce.......'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zc4KJoMdKJ0/TmEFpuHLYBI/AAAAAAAAB5I/nB4DnGG2Os4/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8009552434347329824</id><published>2011-08-30T09:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T09:11:04.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not much help for this blog</title><content type='html'>So.....I found my camera. Right where it should have been.....how do things like that happen? I'd looked there 50 times!! Anyway. I thought WAHOOO!!! I can blog again. but I can't figure out how to take a picture of my camera.......................sigh ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8009552434347329824?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8009552434347329824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8009552434347329824&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8009552434347329824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8009552434347329824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/not-much-help-for-this-blog.html' title='Not much help for this blog'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5694214629815712718</id><published>2011-08-27T13:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T15:16:58.651-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the Heck.....</title><content type='html'>I've decided that having a camera is a great incentive to blog. I've misplaced mine...hopefully it hasn't been stollen. I find that everytime I sit down to blog I get discouraged because I like having pictures to go with my blog. So... Cowboy poetry contest comes and goes, along with the Wayne county fair. No pictures no blog. The first day of school comes and goes. No camera no blog. I bottle raspberry jam and dilly beans. No camera no blog, and on and on....I guess I should really focus on finding my camera or else buy a new little cheap one so that I at least capture the memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5694214629815712718?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5694214629815712718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5694214629815712718&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5694214629815712718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5694214629815712718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/where-heck.html' title='Where the Heck.....'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8592200478323335267</id><published>2011-08-09T22:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T22:56:04.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you wanna be me;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YuTs4iZKD4E/TkINai90x7I/AAAAAAAAB4I/_XqfMvlaaac/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639084433135159218" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YuTs4iZKD4E/TkINai90x7I/AAAAAAAAB4I/_XqfMvlaaac/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Out at the sheepherd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-frZnW0v5X_c/TkINaRK3R6I/AAAAAAAAB4A/EwOSHE1X7fM/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639084428358010786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-frZnW0v5X_c/TkINaRK3R6I/AAAAAAAAB4A/EwOSHE1X7fM/s400/001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Horses shod and ready to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cw7cpvdfadA/TkINaGtbPmI/AAAAAAAAB34/YySGSZXyRsE/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639084425550184034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cw7cpvdfadA/TkINaGtbPmI/AAAAAAAAB34/YySGSZXyRsE/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The view from the front door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zIQpGvr9MiM/TkINZ_XptOI/AAAAAAAAB3w/aZ2wS154HZw/s1600/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639084423579808994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zIQpGvr9MiM/TkINZ_XptOI/AAAAAAAAB3w/aZ2wS154HZw/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sleeping arrangements&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;alright, alright This is why I'm so durn glad I'M me....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8592200478323335267?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8592200478323335267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8592200478323335267&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8592200478323335267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8592200478323335267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/why-you-wanna-be-me.html' title='Why you wanna be me;)'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YuTs4iZKD4E/TkINai90x7I/AAAAAAAAB4I/_XqfMvlaaac/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-553305719663946246</id><published>2011-08-08T20:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T21:07:57.965-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights of our Summer.........hm......let's see</title><content type='html'>This summer we lost 6 of our 11 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;dogie&lt;/span&gt; lambs to two black labs....It wasn't a pretty sight. And we worked so hard to keep them alive to start with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then 3 of our horses snuck into about 60 lbs of grain..........Not a good thing for horses. That one sent them to the vet in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Richfield&lt;/span&gt; where they were given mineral oil antibiotics and ibuprofen for horses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then our sheepherder's horse ran away with him on it and he fell off breaking ribs and tearing shoulder ligaments and rendering him unable to herd....so we get to!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved the James Family Reunion although at odd times I break into songs about old fashion harmony and long for band music....and then my heart starts &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;palpitating&lt;/span&gt;.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Softball was great this summer....even though the few family members that came to watch wondered if my team was for real.........We actually took third place in the tournament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also began walking/running out at Big Rocks every morning I'm amazed at how peaceful it is in the mornings, with a view of the whole town before me as I walk home It gives me a whole different perspective on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe summer is so close to being over........We haven't even gone swimming once this year in our county pool. Ah well.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-553305719663946246?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/553305719663946246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=553305719663946246&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/553305719663946246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/553305719663946246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/highlights-of-our-summerhmlets-see.html' title='Highlights of our Summer.........hm......let&apos;s see'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8130589429513684427</id><published>2011-08-06T21:09:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T21:20:18.536-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Saving memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGXcK8OqkgY/Tj4DESzGI8I/AAAAAAAAB3o/LY87GjPl9_4/s1600/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637947155814949826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGXcK8OqkgY/Tj4DESzGI8I/AAAAAAAAB3o/LY87GjPl9_4/s400/021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a beautiful flower in my garden, I just liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gej4d_l_MXc/Tj4DEIdlAAI/AAAAAAAAB3g/PTb6cElv70k/s1600/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637947153040343042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gej4d_l_MXc/Tj4DEIdlAAI/AAAAAAAAB3g/PTb6cElv70k/s400/014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oaklee taking a nap in my bed. I liked her position. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nupbln6CEsM/Tj4DD2r9iUI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/x5shC3LwmD4/s1600/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 289px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637947148268833090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nupbln6CEsM/Tj4DD2r9iUI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/x5shC3LwmD4/s400/023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aubree trying to act happy for this picture and only tolerating me and the camera so she can go in and watch a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zVWAkLLemow/Tj4DDWMfehI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/tt8Yi6v5cow/s1600/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637947139546905106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zVWAkLLemow/Tj4DDWMfehI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/tt8Yi6v5cow/s400/019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I LOVE this picture.........just don't want to loose it:)&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;div&gt;About 3-4 months ago durring a lightening storm my computer crashed and I lost every thing Sob, SOB SOB!!!!! I know it's my own fault for not being more careful and backing everything up better, sigh. But, thank heavens for my blog. At least I have my blog!!!! So here I am blogging pictures I like so I won't loose them because of my lack of ability to wisely back everything up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8130589429513684427?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8130589429513684427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8130589429513684427&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8130589429513684427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8130589429513684427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/saving-memories.html' title='Saving memories'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGXcK8OqkgY/Tj4DESzGI8I/AAAAAAAAB3o/LY87GjPl9_4/s72-c/021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7081110042031787128</id><published>2011-08-03T08:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T10:34:38.202-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seperate Ways</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pUqRIppzLVE/TjlmiHpdXfI/AAAAAAAAB3A/JYgpjjO87A8/s1600/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636649144985411058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pUqRIppzLVE/TjlmiHpdXfI/AAAAAAAAB3A/JYgpjjO87A8/s400/010.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There We were, Braden, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; and I, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; was holding the lead rope on the three year old gelding Braden was breaking. They hollered at me because Braden had the saddle on and was fixing to get on the colts back for the first time. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caibs&lt;/span&gt; philosophy is: If there is a camera present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then you won't have any troubles..... It's only when you are unprepared that the really good pictures AKA Wild riding takes place. (You know, It's kind of like that time you saw Big Foot;) So I'm standing there with the camera and Braden slowly pulls himself into the saddle and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sits&lt;/span&gt; on top of this very inexperienced horse........ Ears Lay back.................a quick look by the horse at who the heck just climbed on me..........................Oh It's just that kid that makes me run any time I jump at something.................................I guess I better just deal with this!! Braden gives a gentle kick and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; begins to lead the horse around the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;corral&lt;/span&gt; WOW!! what a good horse.....Great Job Braden You've done well He's going to be a great horse... and all the while I can't help but think &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"how &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;BORING" &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They start their second trip around the corral when in the distance we hear:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;"Hi Guys"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636649148342826418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N4__O8HpLsk/TjlmiUJ7dbI/AAAAAAAAB3I/FDGcTJRCp0k/s400/011.JPG" /&gt; Uh.......Is that Chance, Says I,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"YUP" Both Braden and Caib reply&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Is He on Jack?" I question, with a 'what is that kid thinking, now' tone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yup" Both boys respond.&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 hurry over to the other corall where Jack is tied up. Jack is a one year old colt that belongs to Chance, but Caib is the one who is supposed to be breaking him. That's why the saddle is even on him. Caib put the little saddle on him earlier to just let Jack get used to the whole idea. No one has ever ridden Jack with a saddle before. Jack just stands there as I whip the camera up snap a quick shot and tell Chance with a bit of controlled urgency.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Chance GET off of THAT colt...............NOW"&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've got this one under control, Caib" Chance seems to say as he points at us winks and slides off of Jack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SIGH....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've known fo a long time (about 5 years) that with Chance There's going to have to be a lot of gritting my teeth and looking away as he experiences this life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7081110042031787128?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7081110042031787128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7081110042031787128&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7081110042031787128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7081110042031787128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/08/seperate-ways.html' title='Seperate Ways'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pUqRIppzLVE/TjlmiHpdXfI/AAAAAAAAB3A/JYgpjjO87A8/s72-c/010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7595559635092175334</id><published>2011-07-23T20:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T20:52:56.231-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Zooming by.........sigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-98k_7OKiWXY/TiuFZ1VLeQI/AAAAAAAAB2w/GIbL4cXq1nI/s1600/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 367px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632742437816072450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-98k_7OKiWXY/TiuFZ1VLeQI/AAAAAAAAB2w/GIbL4cXq1nI/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tolerating The long summer days with all the kids home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ta6DH5ESCR0/TiuFZ_6ffvI/AAAAAAAAB2o/1FedbkcE3IA/s1600/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 290px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632742440656928498" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ta6DH5ESCR0/TiuFZ_6ffvI/AAAAAAAAB2o/1FedbkcE3IA/s400/019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The only time Caib's horse has bucked has been when he had on a raicoat or winter coat so he's been working with Lilly so she's not scaredof them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1bNEz_xpzU/TiuFZZG6DFI/AAAAAAAAB2g/6pGPR3XF6gM/s1600/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 292px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632742430240017490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1bNEz_xpzU/TiuFZZG6DFI/AAAAAAAAB2g/6pGPR3XF6gM/s400/013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think Lilly is such a pretty horse Caibs done an excellent job with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pt9afSZDmYU/TiuFZTrI4yI/AAAAAAAAB2Y/Ex68inMUZOE/s1600/SAM_4243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632742428781372194" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pt9afSZDmYU/TiuFZTrI4yI/AAAAAAAAB2Y/Ex68inMUZOE/s400/SAM_4243.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went fishing at round lake one night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSEmpsD3LVk/TiuFZG5YWqI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/Qb4r3I3I4uM/s1600/SAM_4244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632742425351445154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSEmpsD3LVk/TiuFZG5YWqI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/Qb4r3I3I4uM/s400/SAM_4244.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was a beautiful night, no bugs, Braden caught two fish and Caib caught lot's of weeds and the boat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry my kids are hollering at me to come get them some dinner.....sigh it dosen't help that my oven went out a week ago and I'm running out of ideas for stove top stuff and grilled things.&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7595559635092175334?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7595559635092175334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7595559635092175334&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7595559635092175334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7595559635092175334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/07/summer-zooming-bysigh.html' title='Summer Zooming by.........sigh'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-98k_7OKiWXY/TiuFZ1VLeQI/AAAAAAAAB2w/GIbL4cXq1nI/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-791022696293048477</id><published>2011-07-09T12:10:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T10:42:09.512-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cracking whips and roping LGM</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628133188700525122" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iojo0Sm0RpI/ThslUOUU0kI/AAAAAAAAB2I/LNXMuEvT88A/s400/011.JPG" /&gt;I Tried really hard to get a couple of little videos but they wouldn't load. So all you get is the pictures. The LGM (little green man) sure looks like he's running away from Chance, and for good reason, too. Chance caught him and pulled him to the ground. Then for good measure gave him another good jerk. Caib standing there is about the proudest big brother around. He's Chancee's roping coach. He taught him everything he knows. What a great brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aAqOavGbWi0/ThibYsl-TWI/AAAAAAAAB2A/DKeIReyIPh8/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 333px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627418582989032802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aAqOavGbWi0/ThibYsl-TWI/AAAAAAAAB2A/DKeIReyIPh8/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I really wish I had the videos for you to watch. Braden's been working with Chance on his whip cracking skills. Chance does pretty good, too. The crack isn't exceptionally loud yet but we took care of that in the video as both Braden and Caib cracked there whips at exactly the right thime so that it sounds like Chance really snapped it good. Ah well.....Notice Chancees outfit. He claims to be Indiana Jones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-791022696293048477?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=cc31a79288e2f23d&amp;type=video/mp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=f7146b527ffe4018&amp;type=video/mp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/791022696293048477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=791022696293048477&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/791022696293048477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/791022696293048477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/07/cracking-whips-and-roping-lgm.html' title='Cracking whips and roping LGM'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iojo0Sm0RpI/ThslUOUU0kI/AAAAAAAAB2I/LNXMuEvT88A/s72-c/011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-265482735487736859</id><published>2011-07-05T16:37:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T17:32:59.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hauling Hay and breaking horses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I love to watch my boys work and grow. This last year has been a new experience for Roger and myself as we've watched our oldest boy mature a bit. We went through the cracking voice etc. and now we get to experience the knowledge of a fourteen year old....Amazing. We love to joke with him about it and for the most part he's a great sport. He even has great "In your face" comments. What a GreaT KiD It's also been fun to watch as Caib has slowly grown taller then Braden, much to Caibs delight. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6H7YfYBz2lg/ThOYtPkpY2I/AAAAAAAAB14/1yqetFnSCEM/s1600/Picture+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626008262557655906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6H7YfYBz2lg/ThOYtPkpY2I/AAAAAAAAB14/1yqetFnSCEM/s400/Picture%2B051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hear they are throwing some hay around. They can't quite understand why we won't buy them a weight set. Those bales weigh anywhere from 60-80 lbs. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WLuNji5l85k/ThOYsmR-a1I/AAAAAAAAB1w/MOuIOunKZRc/s1600/Picture+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626008251473488722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WLuNji5l85k/ThOYsmR-a1I/AAAAAAAAB1w/MOuIOunKZRc/s400/Picture%2B052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And as I recall the "Snatch and pull" was a full body lift that used all the muscles in the body especially if you grunted good and loud and growled a bit after you finished the lift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wb1UaOmtLps/ThOYsGS6iAI/AAAAAAAAB1o/qlZvabQPrcs/s1600/Picture+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626008242887493634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wb1UaOmtLps/ThOYsGS6iAI/AAAAAAAAB1o/qlZvabQPrcs/s400/Picture%2B031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Another thing I love to watch is my two oldest as they break their colts. This is actually Braden who's starting this colt for his Uncle Bart. This horse is about three, I think, and hasn't had much done with it. So she needs a lot more work then the colts that they are used to breaking. As Caib and I sat and watched Braden working with this horse, as it bucked and jumped at every little twitch, we talked about how much easier it is to take a horse from birth and teach it to be gentle and good, then to take an older horse who hasn't been taught or worked with. We related that to kids and how much easier it is to be good if your taught from birth and your parents insist on you doing what's right and guide you correctly, then if your allowed, as a kid, to just do whatever you want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caib picks up on things like that really easily. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626008234627627730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wr-d5nfdtic/ThOYrnhm-tI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/jjdL1l3qKb8/s400/Picture%2B028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's proof of that. Ironically, Caib is sitting on Jack, a one year old, who isn't old enough to even wear a saddle yet, watching Braden, as he works with the three year old. Lilly is the other horse in the corrall. She's Caibs horse that he's in the process of breaking. She's only bucked once with Caib because he climbed on her with a big coat on that she wasn't used to. But she's never bucked with a saddle on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LSG1ixk3oLk/ThOYr8EG25I/AAAAAAAAB1g/3olX5UOOXV4/s1600/Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626008240141032338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LSG1ixk3oLk/ThOYr8EG25I/AAAAAAAAB1g/3olX5UOOXV4/s400/Picture%2B029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And....here's Chance.....He's just trying to stay out of the way.&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;div&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;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/6336248339197200150-265482735487736859?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/265482735487736859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=265482735487736859&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/265482735487736859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/265482735487736859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/07/hauling-hay-and-breaking-horses.html' title='Hauling Hay and breaking horses'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6H7YfYBz2lg/ThOYtPkpY2I/AAAAAAAAB14/1yqetFnSCEM/s72-c/Picture%2B051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5400165613069538292</id><published>2011-07-01T16:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T10:26:55.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Vacation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mjZ4LTRg0b8/Tg6BuE-w4AI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/2-6lwo9n0sI/s1600/072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624575613243285506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mjZ4LTRg0b8/Tg6BuE-w4AI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/2-6lwo9n0sI/s400/072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What a Summer. This last week has finally felt like Summer may really be a vacation after all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hiding in the bushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZmfWCy7XbM/Tg6Bt79TtXI/AAAAAAAAB1I/Zd-Q2lXPxHY/s1600/076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624575610821260658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZmfWCy7XbM/Tg6Bt79TtXI/AAAAAAAAB1I/Zd-Q2lXPxHY/s400/076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chance, Sporting a new hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vWfp7zFe-2c/Tg6BtF6b-mI/AAAAAAAAB1A/RzWDzdaULLA/s1600/043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624575596313705058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vWfp7zFe-2c/Tg6BtF6b-mI/AAAAAAAAB1A/RzWDzdaULLA/s400/043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; First crop being put up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tmVKsqL-FBk/Tg6BspN3RxI/AAAAAAAAB04/XmGgZXO6ooI/s1600/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624575588610557714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tmVKsqL-FBk/Tg6BspN3RxI/AAAAAAAAB04/XmGgZXO6ooI/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pruning trees, Trust me it looks a whole lot better now then it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6CzGPGTnio/Tg6BsTcsRvI/AAAAAAAAB0w/0wXywu8xHu0/s1600/067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624575582767171314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 297px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6CzGPGTnio/Tg6BsTcsRvI/AAAAAAAAB0w/0wXywu8xHu0/s400/067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Climbing trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EU8tAmBLAQk/Tg5-YXr_NYI/AAAAAAAAB0o/MvSKVor6tHs/s1600/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624571941772801410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EU8tAmBLAQk/Tg5-YXr_NYI/AAAAAAAAB0o/MvSKVor6tHs/s400/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; swinging, and the roses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj8ljZYz9_Y/Tg5-YLApnHI/AAAAAAAAB0g/PRyxjps5fMw/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624571938369805426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj8ljZYz9_Y/Tg5-YLApnHI/AAAAAAAAB0g/PRyxjps5fMw/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;a close up of the roses for Grandma.&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;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4rc5050fNKo/Tg5-X4758ZI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/m72Ra4ubbDM/s1600/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624571933518066066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4rc5050fNKo/Tg5-X4758ZI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/m72Ra4ubbDM/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;re-roofing the cellar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tzagdTXUnfw/Tg5-Xbz9C3I/AAAAAAAAB0Q/VuHkxknK_iY/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624571925700086642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tzagdTXUnfw/Tg5-Xbz9C3I/AAAAAAAAB0Q/VuHkxknK_iY/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; swimming in the back yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j8Aqx5LKANU/Tg5-XGmJuOI/AAAAAAAAB0I/41SHgpxfX3E/s1600/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624571920005052642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j8Aqx5LKANU/Tg5-XGmJuOI/AAAAAAAAB0I/41SHgpxfX3E/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are we Farmers or what? Look at them tans!!!!! Whoa!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;all the kids in or near the pool. Funny story: I went out with the camera to get this picture. It took forever to get all the kids to get in or near the pool so I could take one second to snap the picture. Part of the problem: Oaklee would not cooperate, she refused to get close enough for me to get the picture and cried and cried. So I finally pointed the camera at her and said, " Smile for the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pa05VcScL6c/Tg5MkHXZ8XI/AAAAAAAAB0A/sfEpx5pa1VY/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624517167968547186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 287px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pa05VcScL6c/Tg5MkHXZ8XI/AAAAAAAAB0A/sfEpx5pa1VY/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what I got. Little Stinker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bffy6ty0L8Q/Tg5Mjz7RLzI/AAAAAAAABz4/wgpFp4ut_c8/s1600/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624517162750258994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bffy6ty0L8Q/Tg5Mjz7RLzI/AAAAAAAABz4/wgpFp4ut_c8/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Fun together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7jd16P9AnZQ/Tg5Mjp2W-rI/AAAAAAAABzw/HevaGGrsIjg/s1600/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624517160045312690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7jd16P9AnZQ/Tg5Mjp2W-rI/AAAAAAAABzw/HevaGGrsIjg/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chilling in the cool evening. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another funny story: Oaklee was crawling around on the floor all evening pretending she was a dog. All the sudden I hear her singing to herself in the other room. "I a dog, Who let me out? Who... who? who? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There you go. I've been a bit busy and haven't taken the time to blog a lot. maybe this will get me going again. I guess it depends on how many comments I get..................&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Teasing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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;/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&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5400165613069538292?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5400165613069538292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5400165613069538292&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5400165613069538292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5400165613069538292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/07/summer-vacation.html' title='Summer Vacation?'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mjZ4LTRg0b8/Tg6BuE-w4AI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/2-6lwo9n0sI/s72-c/072.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5586924346793130666</id><published>2011-06-13T20:30:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T21:07:10.915-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost Three Plants Almost Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XUiE5_bzero/TfbMPoA8oUI/AAAAAAAABzQ/FIvKsy2OgSE/s1600/Picture+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617902154002768194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XUiE5_bzero/TfbMPoA8oUI/AAAAAAAABzQ/FIvKsy2OgSE/s400/Picture%2B025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We woke up early this morning. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt; patch was ready to be planted and we didn't want to plant it in the heat of the day. At 6:00 AM I was out of bed. Oh alright, I was forced out of bed by a pair of five year old feet, they were cold and the rest of their body was taking up way to much room. I tried to go back to sleep, but it didn't work, so I did a little scripture study. At about 7:00 I started hollering down the stairs at the work crew. Two of the best workers were summoned first because they had sprinklers to go change. at 7:30 they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;emerged&lt;/span&gt; from the cool of the basement and were on their way before 8:00 AM My next best helper had a struggle getting out of bed so I left her and took the two littlest helpers. the 5 year old and the almost three year old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We gathered all the seed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;potato,&lt;/span&gt; a knife and ,threw it all into the large wheel barrow and marched determinedly across the street to where the empty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt; patch waited. I quickly cut up the red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt; seed and we began our project, me with the shovel, Chance with the bucket of seed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt;, and the almost three year old with two little eager hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I plunged the shovel into the first row and we were off. Chance moved the bucket along while the little one threw a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt; seed into each hole. Surprisingly we made quick progress and the two little ones began a chant...."Team work, Team Work....." I sent the 5 year old on a few errands for me and so the almost three year old ended up planting almost three entire rows all by herself. I only called Roger once to make sure I wasn't breaking any child labor laws. ;) The rows were about a hundred or so feet in length, I think, and there was a total of 15. When I finally got the rest of my help there we had five rows planted. One of the errands I sent Chance on was to get my Camera so I could get a nice picture to blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617902161771467330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VSb2pf3jSnY/TfbMQE9JkkI/AAAAAAAABzY/jHYzktFbfVY/s400/Picture%2B022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See why We had time to plant so many before he returned? Angie, The big yellow dog, decided it was a good time for a photo shoot. Here's Chance's first shot.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617902172041675218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZvCh2fmvz5M/TfbMQrNwgdI/AAAAAAAABzg/H6K-tlCynk0/s400/Picture%2B023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Here's&lt;/span&gt; his next shot&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617902184150510626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Er-J0Y9CQG8/TfbMRYUurCI/AAAAAAAABzo/5Th7ASe-Uvw/s400/Picture%2B024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And finally his last shot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;When he got back to me and handed me the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;camera &lt;/span&gt;he said, "Sorry it took me so long, mom. I took a few great shots of Angie."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;O.K. so Photographer.....Maybe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5586924346793130666?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5586924346793130666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5586924346793130666&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5586924346793130666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5586924346793130666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/06/almost-three-plants-almost-three.html' title='Almost Three Plants Almost Three'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XUiE5_bzero/TfbMPoA8oUI/AAAAAAAABzQ/FIvKsy2OgSE/s72-c/Picture%2B025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8249970338753705875</id><published>2011-06-10T22:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T22:41:26.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Where's first base, Mom?"</title><content type='html'>Baseball finally started for Chance. He's been waiting all spring....and finally He gets to play baseball, too. I know how he how felt. I've been waiting for Softball to start. We had our second game last night. We have a miscellaneous Team of women &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;and we&lt;/span&gt; have a blast!!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway Back to Chance. His second night of games was Wednesday night. I think the first question he asked me that morning was, "Mom, Where's first base?" So I'd explain to him where first base was and tell him as soon as you hit the ball you run as fast as you can to first. He'd nod and go play but he kept asking me off and on all day "Where's first base again, Mom." He asked me in the pick-up on the way to the ball park and then when we got to the baseball field he asked me again so I showed him and he payed close attention. I then turned to visit with some of the people there and when I turned back Chance had drawn a square in the dirt and was looking for rocks to use as bases. &lt;br /&gt;"Wow Chance," Says I, "Maybe you should think about being a map maker." He stood up, looked at me, and he put on his thinking look, which soon turned to his I REALLY like that idea look. He played third base and short stop scored a point for the team and talked about how much he loves baseball the whole ride home. But, as soon as we opened the door he headed for the cupboard with the brown paper in it so he could make three maps. and when he fell to sleep on the soft chair that night he had his three maps neatly rolled up beside him, each with two small elastic hair clips holding them neatly rolled up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does this kids future hold????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8249970338753705875?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8249970338753705875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8249970338753705875&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8249970338753705875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8249970338753705875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/06/where-first-base.html' title='&quot;Where&apos;s first base, Mom?&quot;'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6221327693103486478</id><published>2011-05-24T12:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T13:08:08.597-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OOOOOZING with Talent!!!</title><content type='html'>I just have to laugh at this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caib got signed up for the talent show by one of his teachers......You should hear him complain and groan about THAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it may just have paid off. You see, he was signed up to do a cowboy poem. He'd just finished up with a poetry unit in English and his teacher called me yesterday to let me know that Caib hadn't turned in his Poems that he was supposed to have written. I knew that he'd written some that were really good because we'd been working on them so I told her that he would get his packet done and turn it in to her. I took it with me to the Talent show this morning to give to her. I told her I had it in the pick-up She said "oh great". "But," says I " I think he must have missed the day that you explained what exactly to do to finish it up because he's missing 2 or 3 poems." &lt;br /&gt;"I'll look at it and let you know" She says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I sat at the Talent show watching a numerous amount of Interesting talents and getting more and more anxious because Chance and Oaklee were tired and bored. Finally Caibs turn Came up. He got up and recited the poem "Mis Raices estan Aqui" (My Roots are Burried Here)&lt;br /&gt;I sat filming Caib and watching his English teacher as she reacted to his Poem. (She wasn't quite in tears, but just about.) It's a very serious poem and very touching and I love the way Caib delivers it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...... When Caib finished his poem,I decided that it was time to take my two little distractions and head home. Caibs teacher leaned back to me when she noticed I was leaving and Said I could just bring it in later I told her I'd just run get it. She Said something like Oh, I'm sure it's just fine Don't worry about it. I did run get it and handed it to her and she kept assurring me that it wasn't a problem with the three poems missing and she was sure it was beautiful and I thought "Hmmm, Way to knock 'em senseless Caib" I somehow got the impression that at least the English teacher recognized that Caib was the last person she had to worry about when it came to writing and understanding poetry. Here's an example of a couple of the poems he wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yellow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellow is the summer when the sun comes out,&lt;br /&gt;A dandelion field where the children run and shout.&lt;br /&gt;Yellow is the sound of horses clomping hoofs&lt;br /&gt;Yellow is a puppy with little yipping woofs.&lt;br /&gt;When you're happy and you're smiling, you are yellow.&lt;br /&gt;And you are loved and enjoyed by every fellow.&lt;br /&gt;It's the warm glowing sun at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;It's the start of the morning and scares dark away.&lt;br /&gt;Yellow is the wood from a ponderosa pine.&lt;br /&gt;Yellow will never, ever, ever start to whine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Caib Brian-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is his Quatrain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big ol' Cow&lt;br /&gt;Chewing cud&lt;br /&gt;Walking through&lt;br /&gt;the dirt and mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making noise&lt;br /&gt;from your snout&lt;br /&gt;And I start&lt;br /&gt;To yell and shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For I am riding&lt;br /&gt;Close behind&lt;br /&gt;On a mountain&lt;br /&gt;Path we wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swishing tail,&lt;br /&gt;walking slow.&lt;br /&gt;Down to the water&lt;br /&gt;we will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Journey's done&lt;br /&gt;We're home now&lt;br /&gt;In the pasture&lt;br /&gt;Big ol'cow.&lt;br /&gt;-Caib Brian-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6221327693103486478?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6221327693103486478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6221327693103486478&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6221327693103486478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6221327693103486478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/05/ooooozing-with-talent.html' title='OOOOOZING with Talent!!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3348185308911389643</id><published>2011-05-18T19:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T20:58:20.930-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inundated with birthdays, Mothers day, cows and sheep.</title><content type='html'>It all started with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caibs&lt;/span&gt; Birthday on April 29&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; We woke up early and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; opened his presents. I Made him a carrot Cake and We had Cake and Sang him Happy Birthday. Then Our designated party chairman, Aubree decided that a week later we would have a surprise party for Dad. She made all the arrangements and even provided the decorations and Ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-26atGoS1fJw/TdR5XfEbk7I/AAAAAAAABy8/l7xyFiHBoJw/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608240880367145906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-26atGoS1fJw/TdR5XfEbk7I/AAAAAAAABy8/l7xyFiHBoJw/s400/001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While Braden, Chance and Dad went to feed cows Aubree &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; decorated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608240872094394754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E1I7nqrw8Z0/TdR5XAQDaYI/AAAAAAAABy0/4LfErUhJ6A4/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;It turned out very nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608242050378139282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJ5rULE2rnM/TdR6blsyhpI/AAAAAAAABzE/nuDWZzNKINs/s400/004.JPG" /&gt; Dad was very surprised. Allow me now, to throw in a chattering from Chance. While Dad was at work Chance decided he needed to make him a birthday card, I was outside planting my Mothers day gift, a Northern Red Oak. The phone rang, and since I was outside Chance answered it. It was Roger. He talked to Dad for a few minutes dad told him, after their conversation, that he was on his way home. Chance came running outside to tell me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance: Mom I just talked to dad on the telephone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: What did he say?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance:(with a bit of a guilty look) "He asked me what I was doing. I had to tell him I was drawing a picture of you for mother's day. Really I was drawing a picture of him for his birthday. After I hung &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;up the&lt;/span&gt; phone I said to myself "Whew!!!!That was close."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Whew, That was close!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So.....I planted my Red Oak tree. I'm extremely excited about my tree. It was kind of funny because Roger was in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Richfield&lt;/span&gt; the Saturday before Mothers day and Called to ask me what kind of tree was planted in the front yard that was growing so well. I smiled to myself because I knew immediately what my mothers day gift was going to be so I told him It's a flowering Cherry but I'd really like a birch tree if that's what your going to get me. &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, There goes that surprise" he said &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, He did look all over town for a Birch tree and couldn't find one so I got the Northern Red Oak. I hope it survives. Then a week later he calls and says "I found a surprise for you for your birthday. Which was the fourteenth. He'd found two birch trees in another town and made a special trip to get them for me. Having thrown out my back planting my Oak tree I sent the kids out to plant my Birch trees. When I went out to check on their progress this is what I found.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ihuOz1cLkXw/TdR5WhQcPRI/AAAAAAAABys/YMTtunUzXJM/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608240863774522642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ihuOz1cLkXw/TdR5WhQcPRI/AAAAAAAABys/YMTtunUzXJM/s400/007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; digging the hole, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; Laying there watching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUI9fYvV6aM/TdR5WbZDsTI/AAAAAAAAByk/qxsiyg1k3I8/s1600/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608240862200049970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUI9fYvV6aM/TdR5WbZDsTI/AAAAAAAAByk/qxsiyg1k3I8/s400/010.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Aubree took over the shovel. Notice who's in the background playing with his dog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sv3ZwgFC0c/TdR5V-ncsZI/AAAAAAAAByc/6_DBS74NJJw/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608240854475780498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sv3ZwgFC0c/TdR5V-ncsZI/AAAAAAAAByc/6_DBS74NJJw/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, alright, I'm teasing. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; did most of the work on this one but we still had two more trees to plant after this one, my other Birch tree and a plum tree that we got for my mother for mothers day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Braden and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; both finished planting the tree's for me. They really are the best boys a mother could have!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then had Aubree's Birthday on the 16&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. She got to open Birthday &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;presents&lt;/span&gt; three times. in the morning, right after &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;school&lt;/span&gt;, and then we had a surprise party for her that night for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;FHE&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And finally, Today we took the cows out. Yes it was snowing there was 4-5 inches of snow when they got them out there and it was a muddy mess!!! I drove the pick-up out and nearly slid off the road two or three times. Tomorrow the sheep go out!!! hopefully it will be a little warmer and not so muddy and wet. It'll sure be nice to have the animals out so we can get started on the farming. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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;/div&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/6336248339197200150-3348185308911389643?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3348185308911389643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3348185308911389643&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3348185308911389643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3348185308911389643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/05/inundated-with-birthdays-mothers-day.html' title='Inundated with birthdays, Mothers day, cows and sheep.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-26atGoS1fJw/TdR5XfEbk7I/AAAAAAAABy8/l7xyFiHBoJw/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4385518148207940113</id><published>2011-05-03T07:37:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T10:20:14.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I just reposted this and deleted the last one. See if you can pick out any differences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What a real Cowboy is&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a real cowboy&lt;br /&gt;Living on the open land&lt;br /&gt;In my mind I've got a picture&lt;br /&gt;Of something really grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And whether or not it's true&lt;br /&gt;or just something in the past&lt;br /&gt;I let myself have faith&lt;br /&gt;that we haven't seen the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a picture of a horse&lt;br /&gt;With the reins in the dust&lt;br /&gt;and a cowboy standing near&lt;br /&gt;with clothes worn and caked in crust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been living on the range&lt;br /&gt;all alone for many a day&lt;br /&gt;As he's gathering the cattle,&lt;br /&gt;for the boss, to earn his pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that cowboy stands alone&lt;br /&gt;With his horse there near his side&lt;br /&gt;And faithfully he contemplates&lt;br /&gt;His long and weary ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is hanging low&lt;br /&gt;As he stands there strait and tall&lt;br /&gt;And he hears the cows a settling&lt;br /&gt;While coyotes yip and call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows he'll be up late&lt;br /&gt;As he rides around the herd.&lt;br /&gt;He don't take lightly his promise&lt;br /&gt;When he gave the boss his word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though something in that yipping&lt;br /&gt;caused the cowboys heart to yearn,&lt;br /&gt;And long for things at home&lt;br /&gt;But though he wants to return&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows the cows need tending,&lt;br /&gt;And he just continues on,&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing that too soon&lt;br /&gt;his way of life will be gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He throws out his blanket&lt;br /&gt;Beneath a cedar tree,&lt;br /&gt;And he builds a little fire ,&lt;br /&gt;To help chase away the lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After night has settled in,&lt;br /&gt;And he's caught a couple winks.&lt;br /&gt;He rolls out of his covers&lt;br /&gt;And he pulls on boots and chinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And out he rides a checking&lt;br /&gt;On the safety of his calves.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering the yipping coyotes,&lt;br /&gt;sounds of a predators laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now why," says I, to me,&lt;br /&gt;Do I long for open land.&lt;br /&gt;And the yipping of a coyote,&lt;br /&gt;And the riding for a brand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be something deep with in me,&lt;br /&gt;must be the lessons I can learn&lt;br /&gt;From a lonely cowboy&lt;br /&gt;Who allows his heart to yearn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A real cowboy who doesn't quit&lt;br /&gt;If there's one thing left to do.&lt;br /&gt;One who's completely honest,&lt;br /&gt;When he's alone he's good and true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He don't allow himself to quit.&lt;br /&gt;It ain't even in his thought.&lt;br /&gt;When he's got a job to do,&lt;br /&gt;Why He's "Johnny on the spot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are a lot of men&lt;br /&gt;Who claim to wear that hat.&lt;br /&gt;But It's almost as if lately&lt;br /&gt;It's just a lot of chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I want to be a real cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;One who proves his worth.&lt;br /&gt;One who shows integrity,&lt;br /&gt;As he trails across the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One who finishes the job,&lt;br /&gt;though the boss is back at home.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a real Cowboy&lt;br /&gt;No matter where I roam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cathy Brian-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reposted this because I couldn't get the last post to take up less room. Thanks to all who commented on it. Feel free to comment again:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4385518148207940113?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4385518148207940113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4385518148207940113&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4385518148207940113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4385518148207940113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-real-cowboy-is-i-want-to-be-real.html' title=''/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2773463522426326259</id><published>2011-05-01T20:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T21:13:45.168-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Caibs Birthday and Coin Art?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9gY-83FfdFo/Tb4c9raT1VI/AAAAAAAAByU/6oR4wSbInEg/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601946832446149970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9gY-83FfdFo/Tb4c9raT1VI/AAAAAAAAByU/6oR4wSbInEg/s400/001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; First off I want no comments on the awesome photography!! But be sure to comment:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes, you did read right, it's Caib's Birthday not Oaklee's. If you look close you can see 13 candles. This was the second time they'd lit the candles. I kept missing the "blow out" shot. So this time Dad let Oaklee help. We'd just finished up with Sunday dinner and Dad had to go back up to the church so we hurried and did the Birthday cake so he could be there. Dinner hadn't gotten cleaned up from, yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G9arc0SB9ks/Tb4c9JvkMaI/AAAAAAAAByM/ojEfvP5TuW8/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601946823408497058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G9arc0SB9ks/Tb4c9JvkMaI/AAAAAAAAByM/ojEfvP5TuW8/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you spend your Sunday afternoons? Chance used to have an obsession a couple of years ago, he would line things up almost compulsively. I used to go find Chance because he was so quiet and he would be in another room lining up all his toy cars or the money from the monopoly game or whatever he could find. He would also creatively use the couch cushions to actually make things instead of just pulling them off of the couch to jump on them. Sooo...Today he spent a lot of time lining up his money to count, but after getting started he decided to make it in to a picture. and "voila" he made this beautiful unicorn. He's so proud of it that I may be stepping over it for a day or two. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2773463522426326259?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2773463522426326259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2773463522426326259&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2773463522426326259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2773463522426326259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/05/caibs-birthday-and-coin-art.html' title='Caibs Birthday and Coin Art?'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9gY-83FfdFo/Tb4c9raT1VI/AAAAAAAAByU/6oR4wSbInEg/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8154972032346075632</id><published>2011-04-22T17:13:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T17:47:47.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Now and Then</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hMGVZdLHdUw/TbIPIxQcVyI/AAAAAAAABx0/cAl86uM_E_I/s1600/April%2B2011%2B055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598553930110621474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hMGVZdLHdUw/TbIPIxQcVyI/AAAAAAAABx0/cAl86uM_E_I/s400/April%2B2011%2B055.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ready to start the drive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We had to move cows today from one field to another and drive them right through town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598555384331605922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9H0-BI7I_Hw/TbIQdapvl6I/AAAAAAAABx8/5pO7VJnTx_U/s400/April%2B2011%2B064.jpg" /&gt;And they're off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a good man in the saddle I have to confess the first time I saw Roger in the saddle was probably the clincher. He had me caught right then and there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wA4QXc6PTeA/TbIPIldEQaI/AAAAAAAABxk/ckbBVD4GgDw/s1600/April%2B2011%2B063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598553926942343586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wA4QXc6PTeA/TbIPIldEQaI/AAAAAAAABxk/ckbBVD4GgDw/s400/April%2B2011%2B063.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Another sight that melts my heart.....My three boys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pHfvq56wjOg/TbIPIQssk2I/AAAAAAAABxc/OMuOFPYbOAw/s1600/April%2B2011%2B071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598553921370755938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pHfvq56wjOg/TbIPIQssk2I/AAAAAAAABxc/OMuOFPYbOAw/s400/April%2B2011%2B071.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Only a few mishaps where a calf calf would jump through the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5tUAUZvcrc/TbIPIDSd_WI/AAAAAAAABxU/2q04Z1L-4IE/s1600/April%2B2011%2B077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598553917771087202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5tUAUZvcrc/TbIPIDSd_WI/AAAAAAAABxU/2q04Z1L-4IE/s400/April%2B2011%2B077.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The home stretch, as we passed the street where our home is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Angie&lt;/span&gt; saw us and came running down the street to help. I was trying to get a good shot of Braden on his yellow horse with his big yellow dog following.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598557641298560194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qN8sZ3AlSIY/TbISgygmRMI/AAAAAAAAByE/WkwHyxMBZqA/s400/April%2B2011%2B084.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; waiting to shut the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every now and then you get a picture that you just love. This one did it for me. I think it's one of my all time favorites!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6L3XUa258U/TbIOEDr3yYI/AAAAAAAABxE/Mgt5CRLip2o/s1600/April%2B2011%2B085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598552749646530946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6L3XUa258U/TbIOEDr3yYI/AAAAAAAABxE/Mgt5CRLip2o/s400/April%2B2011%2B085.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Who's a Good horse? "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Braden and his horse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ET8grUJ96A4/TbIOD4WB_WI/AAAAAAAABw8/EXOqGoqiKmc/s1600/April%2B2011%2B089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598552746602134882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ET8grUJ96A4/TbIOD4WB_WI/AAAAAAAABw8/EXOqGoqiKmc/s400/April%2B2011%2B089.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heading home after a good days work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-34Xb9RTdCk8/TbIODnJTFeI/AAAAAAAABw0/ZEtrh1lYi-0/s1600/April%2B2011%2B094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598552741985326562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-34Xb9RTdCk8/TbIODnJTFeI/AAAAAAAABw0/ZEtrh1lYi-0/s400/April%2B2011%2B094.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Coming home.&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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&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/6336248339197200150-8154972032346075632?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8154972032346075632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8154972032346075632&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8154972032346075632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8154972032346075632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/04/every-now-and-then.html' title='Every Now and Then'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hMGVZdLHdUw/TbIPIxQcVyI/AAAAAAAABx0/cAl86uM_E_I/s72-c/April%2B2011%2B055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3604467488618498071</id><published>2011-04-14T10:07:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T12:29:48.283-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Things to get us Through.</title><content type='html'>A busy day is just part of life I guess. It seems as though there are always a thousand things going on, and that may just possibly be, because I tend to put a few of my want to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;do's&lt;/span&gt; on my to do list. It keeps me sane. With five kids and seven schedules to keep up with I just go along hoping I don't forget anything. Or, at least if I do forget something, it happens to be throwing out the diaper I just changed, or possibly not getting the couches cleaned out from under. you know, something inconspicuous that I know Roger will notice, and do when he &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; home. AH!! We make a good team. Yesterdays schedule: 6:00 AM Get Braden up and fed and mix up the bottles to feed the dogies. 6:15 Take Braden to Early Morning Basketball Conditioning. 6:40 Get home and smile because &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; is up, dressed and on his way out to feed the dogies. 6:45 Get Aubree up and dressed. feed the rest of the crew. 7:15 Get in the shower, get ready for the day. 7:40 Take Aubree to school and help all the kids in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Loa&lt;/span&gt; who walk to school cross Main street. (I'm the crossing guard.) 8:08 Get home, water and feed the chickens. 8:18 Begin cleaning up from breakfast, clean bathrooms, sweep floors. 8:45 Babysit for a friend while she goes over to the school to do some volunteer work. 10:00 Go to the church to exercise 11:15 Come home, finish cleaning and mop, because my sister is coming down for a few days. 11:30 Help Chance clean up the toys that have been scattered, put clothes into dry and start another batch of Laundry. 12:05 Go pick up Aubree and help all the kids in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Loa,&lt;/span&gt; who walk home, cross Main street. Feed my kids lunch. 12:30 Mix up milk for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Dogie&lt;/span&gt; lambs and feed them. There's six now that are still alive. :D 1:00 Check my emails read a few blogs. Think about blogging something, but don't 2:00 Take Braden to Piano lessons 2:40 Pick Braden up and run him over to the field so he can help dock the lambs. 3:00 Do more laundry. 4:30 Braden and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; and Chance come in from docking lambs a little late, so I run them to Base ball practice and wait for them to finish 5:45 After waiting longer then I intended, I hurry to the store, pick up a couple of pizzas, run home, start preheating the oven, run in to my room, put on a skirt and freshen my make up and hair. 6:30 Go to the church for a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;women's&lt;/span&gt; conference. 8:45 Get home mix up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;dogie&lt;/span&gt; milk, after I change clothes of course, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Head&lt;/span&gt; out to feed the little lambs. 9:15 Back inside, I rush the kids into their P.J.'s 9:40 Say family prayers, tuck all my children into bed, except &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; who had a long nap, and I put in the movie I started watching some other time and lay down to finish watching it. 10:45 Roger &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; home from work. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595502437816604498" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UECYcTH3m6k/Tac30inkF1I/AAAAAAAABws/cZBPTtqTxg4/s400/April%2B2011%2B007.jpg" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's pretty much a typical day. except usually Roger &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; home earlier then that. So, amidst all the have to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;do's&lt;/span&gt; to get by, and the rushing around trying to get things in order, and kept half way clean. I look down and see this little guy, wearing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chancee's&lt;/span&gt; socks. Now, that does make sense because he belongs to Chance, and I can only assume that Chance decided the little guy's feet were cold. S&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;........What else could he have done? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's amazing the strength we can find in the little things. I imagine I can go on and at least make it through another Wayne County spring because of the smile this brought to my face. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;What WOULD we do with out the little things that make us smile?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So...Have a Little smile today :) Courtesy of Chance.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;p.s. I think that it's a lamb, though I've never seen a blue and orange lamb before.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3604467488618498071?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3604467488618498071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3604467488618498071&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3604467488618498071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3604467488618498071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/04/little-things-to-get-us-through.html' title='Little Things to get us Through.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UECYcTH3m6k/Tac30inkF1I/AAAAAAAABws/cZBPTtqTxg4/s72-c/April%2B2011%2B007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5786314671921487231</id><published>2011-04-06T14:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T14:38:12.195-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Time!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GFcj4J_q3os/TZzO7YRwodI/AAAAAAAABwk/QaDbbVwgYZY/s1600/kidds%2B082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592572356811858386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GFcj4J_q3os/TZzO7YRwodI/AAAAAAAABwk/QaDbbVwgYZY/s400/kidds%2B082.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lovely spring:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One beautiful day six miserable and cold days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Gung&lt;/span&gt; ho, "I'm gonna get everything done" day. Six "I think I'll curl up and read all day" days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One "I am going to lose all my winter fat" day. Six "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; I'm going to eat better" days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One feed the doggies morning , noon, after noon, and evening day. Six feed the doggies morning, noon, afternoon and evening days (yeah, I know some things ya just gotta do.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One "I just love spring it gives me hope" day. Six "If summer &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; get here tomorrow I'm going to SCREAM!!" days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One "You can make it, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sweety&lt;/span&gt;, just two more months" day. Six "SIT DOWN, SHUT UP, AND JUST DO THE DANG HOMEWORK......................................NOW!!!!!" days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One "Welcome home dear" day. Six "I thought you'd never get home dear" days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One. " This....Breathe...Gasp...gasp....Is....breathe.. gasp... Great....I Gasp.....Love Gasp....... Exercise" day Six " I'm to sore to move" days &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;etc. and so forth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM so looking forward to summer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5786314671921487231?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5786314671921487231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5786314671921487231&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5786314671921487231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5786314671921487231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/04/spring-time.html' title='Spring Time!!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GFcj4J_q3os/TZzO7YRwodI/AAAAAAAABwk/QaDbbVwgYZY/s72-c/kidds%2B082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2306529840031951001</id><published>2011-03-31T09:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T12:16:05.845-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"X marks the spot" Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E624GXiowXs/TZS77KhzzGI/AAAAAAAABwc/jFdFvXgTRYY/s1600/March%2B2011%2B185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590299662586465378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E624GXiowXs/TZS77KhzzGI/AAAAAAAABwc/jFdFvXgTRYY/s400/March%2B2011%2B185.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we are still stuck on pirates, Caib, helping Chance, built him a sword. Why spend money on toys for little boys? Sticks and wire are so much more appealing, and they NEVER out grow it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ruu5AdJlxyE/TZS76hKRd9I/AAAAAAAABwU/iTufEU-3KYs/s1600/March%2B2011%2B186.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590299651481892818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ruu5AdJlxyE/TZS76hKRd9I/AAAAAAAABwU/iTufEU-3KYs/s400/March%2B2011%2B186.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On guard, Matey. Notice me X on me shirt? No, that's not to give you a better target to slay me poor self, That is so you will know that I am a true buccaneer " I'm not to fond of me Jolly Roger so I've changed me flag to an X, savvy? Besides all me booty was stolen and the only real treasure around here is meself. Any scallywag who'll not be believing me is the son of a biscuit eater and can walk the plank!!! Aaaarrrrgggghhhh! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Early the other morning Chance came in with an X he'd drawn all by himself on his under shirt. Roger asked him what the X was for and he looked at Roger completely disgusted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Da.a.d! I'm a pirate!!!!" He says&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"And the X means..?" questions Dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"sigh, I know where the treasure is." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh I thought maybe you were the treasure." says Dad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With a look of thought and liking the idea Chance replies "Uh...... Yeah. That, too"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2306529840031951001?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2306529840031951001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2306529840031951001&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2306529840031951001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2306529840031951001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/x-marks-spot-chancees-chatterings.html' title='&quot;X marks the spot&quot; Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E624GXiowXs/TZS77KhzzGI/AAAAAAAABwc/jFdFvXgTRYY/s72-c/March%2B2011%2B185.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-9087818934462207743</id><published>2011-03-22T20:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T20:20:33.707-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shiver Me Timbers, Matey!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fUF6GKbnApY/TYlYbfJrvHI/AAAAAAAABwM/YJE8y1a86bA/s1600/March%2B2011%2B179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587094041971637362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fUF6GKbnApY/TYlYbfJrvHI/AAAAAAAABwM/YJE8y1a86bA/s400/March%2B2011%2B179.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh..... hmmm..... Now how do you suppose.......???? Or more appropiately, Who do you suppose........??&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;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lHA-6OCEB2Q/TYlYbG7Cm8I/AAAAAAAABwE/4ONTWM1CtGo/s1600/March%2B2011%2B177.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587094035467770818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lHA-6OCEB2Q/TYlYbG7Cm8I/AAAAAAAABwE/4ONTWM1CtGo/s400/March%2B2011%2B177.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh, Well......Of Course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-9087818934462207743?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/9087818934462207743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=9087818934462207743&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9087818934462207743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9087818934462207743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/shiver-me-timbers-matey.html' title='Shiver Me Timbers, Matey!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fUF6GKbnApY/TYlYbfJrvHI/AAAAAAAABwM/YJE8y1a86bA/s72-c/March%2B2011%2B179.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6787529171696719355</id><published>2011-03-21T09:49:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T14:19:08.937-06:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Your Dog!!!  but..........</title><content type='html'>I love animals, I always have. I grew up in a non agricultural environment with cats and dogs as pets, and then I married a rancher. I've raised countless doggie lambs I've mothered orphaned calves. We've owned to many dogs to count and it's only fair to say I've loved everyone of them even Gutsy the goat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, please don't think I'm irresponsible and cruel when I allow my children the benefit of learning to "Make it" in this life when I give them full responsibility for their own animals. If it's a lamb or a calf the possibility that they will loose the animal to death is quite a bit higher then if they are given a dog or a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We happen to be dog people, and have learned how beneficial cats are when left to defend for themselves. In 15 years I have never had a mouse in my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also understand that the reason we are dog people is not because we love the unbelievable loyalty, fun loving, bouncy, irresistible wagging of the tail personalities of dogs. (though that's a nice benefit) Our dogs are literally considered livestock. We rely on them to help with the herding. They are responsible for helping with the cows, rounding up strays, putting ornery old cows in their place, eating the scraps from lunch, keeping us company when we're out on our own, and even listening to us cuss and holler obscenities (at least some of us) without judging us or thinking ill of us. I would have to say we couldn't make it with out our beloved dogs. And so, we have a dog for every member of the family, almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sk0kh1jUfdA/TYdz50ScF2I/AAAAAAAABv0/HgzinOnqWgU/s1600/March%2B2011%2B018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586561299902109538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sk0kh1jUfdA/TYdz50ScF2I/AAAAAAAABv0/HgzinOnqWgU/s400/March%2B2011%2B018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, the day this batch of puppies was born was a Saturday morning. What a surprise NINE new little puppies that we hadn't even suspected. At least none of us had until two days before when Caib was out feeding his dog, Sandy, and he looked down at her and thought to himself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She looks to fat to just be fat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course he didn't tell us that until after all nine puppies were present and accounted for just minutes before He and Braden were leaving with Dad to go to a basketball game in some neighboring community two hours away. So after feeding the rest of us, I filled up a jug of water to take out to my chickens and headed out to water and feed the chickens. I have to admit, I wasn't very excited about having 9 puppies to deal with but, that didn't stop me from deciding to go and peek in on them. When I got to the haystack where the puppies little burrow was I grimaced and stared discouragingly down at the poor wet little helpless things. I could tell that not one of them would survive if I didn't step in and help this first time mother out. But, I have to admit I toyed with the idea of letting nature take it's course. I even called Roger and he told me not to worry about them. So I went back into the house....less then an hour later I walked back out and the situation appeared worse. I couldn't help it I gathered the durn things up and took the whole brood as well as the mother in the house beside the wood stove to help warm them and dry them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later I took mother and nine healthy little puppies back out to their burrow and left them to fend for themselves That's all the involvement I've had in these little balls of fur. the two littlest didn't survive but now we have 7 bouncing little Australian shepherd mix puppies that are ready to be sold. We'll see how Caib handles this. I told him every penny he earns by selling them is his to keep (Big incentive).&lt;br /&gt;I tell you this simply because There is purpose in animals I can't begin to tell you how much I've learned about becoming "Christ like" Through watching, caring for,and being involved with animals. Especially lambs. I am so grateful that we are given every opportunity in this life to learn to become more then we are. We have been given incredible amounts of trust from a loving Father in Heaven. I'm thankful for His plan that directs us on a path filled with joy if we stick to the path. It floors me to know that he was aware of the mistakes that we would make and that There would be pain and sorrow and suffering that we would all go through and yet in order to improve and learn and become what He knows we can become we had to come here and experience this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586562992026640210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IrWCgvij7ao/TYd1cT8XX1I/AAAAAAAABv8/oABZXkOqENI/s400/March%2B2011%2B006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Caib has seven puppies for sale!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6787529171696719355?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6787529171696719355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6787529171696719355&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6787529171696719355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6787529171696719355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/shes-your-dog-but.html' title='She&apos;s Your Dog!!!  but..........'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sk0kh1jUfdA/TYdz50ScF2I/AAAAAAAABv0/HgzinOnqWgU/s72-c/March%2B2011%2B018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8465388297634640654</id><published>2011-03-17T11:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T11:40:40.289-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Caibs Comments.</title><content type='html'>As I sat down to design the vinyl lettering for Chance's quote I got to thinking it would be fun to have a wall of quotes by my kids. Which lead to,me,trying to think of what I could use as quotes from each of my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing that popped into my mind was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go lay down"&lt;br /&gt;           -Caib Brian-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explanation:   Caib has always been a very temperamental child.  He has been corrected MANY times for yelling at his siblings.  He always seems to be able to recognize when he needs to calm down and fix the way he handles himself.  This is one of his fixes.  When someone (usually Braden) begins irritating him to the point he feels like exploding or attacking he turns to them and says, "Go lay down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know where that comes from or can't put it into context ;) That's what Caibs dad tells the dogs when they are in the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very unique to Caib.  I LOVE the way he has learned to control himself in his own way.  He never would take my suggestions.  He just always comes up with his own and puts them into action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to think about the other three kids for a day or two and see what quotes I can come up with for each of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8465388297634640654?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8465388297634640654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8465388297634640654&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8465388297634640654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8465388297634640654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/caibs-comments.html' title='Caibs Comments.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5602196692414418714</id><published>2011-03-15T15:10:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T16:07:50.558-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Struck Gold!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bj6_yBf0xC8/TX_ihanLqfI/AAAAAAAABvs/ZKdqUHwKw-0/s1600/March%2B2011%2B123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584431126669928946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bj6_yBf0xC8/TX_ihanLqfI/AAAAAAAABvs/ZKdqUHwKw-0/s400/March%2B2011%2B123.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You know I'm a little biased, but I think you'll understand..... &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div&gt;last Friday was the Klondike. Braden and Caib were both going. My boys love to camp!!!!! As they were busily rushing around getting ready and waiting for Dad to get home because Dad was going, too. Caib had told his leaders (unknownst to dad) that his dad was going and so they were counting on him to drive. Dad probably would have opted out until he learned what Caib had done...It made him feel good to know that his boys wanted him to come. Soooo......as they waited I heard Caib mumbling to himself and nonchalantly moved in closer to here him. He was counting on his fingers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Let's see 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. That's 7, and 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then he turned to Chance and said,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'll be 18 when you get to go on the Klondike!! That means I can go with you your first year Chance!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Are You sure, Caib?" Says I, " Won't you be too cool at 18 to go?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Are you kidding me I won't be too cool, I LOVE to camp!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584428440584446322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxLob8Z_vWg/TX_gFEKf4XI/AAAAAAAABvc/Nl93knYiOII/s400/March%2B2011%2B043.jpg" /&gt;You know I think I believe that kid. This is the kid that spent all afternoon Saturday after he got home from the Klondike Spray painting Rocks to look like Gold and burying them in the yard and then making a treasure map, wrinkled, burned around the edges and everything so that Chance could discover a hidden treasure. He then took the little gold pan we have and took it out with Chance so that they could do a little prospecting. I don't know about you but I would have LOVED a big brother like that to grow up with. And then Sunday when we went down to Big Holler to see the spring run off I discovered they had brought the gold pan with them so that they could really pan for gold. I'm telling ya....Someday we're gonna strike it rich!!!! Chance already has!!!! What a brother!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584431119450002754" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pC-VribONg0/TX_ig_t0VUI/AAAAAAAABvk/_SpYAQoCaLs/s400/March%2B2011%2B172.jpg" /&gt;Not to leave out Braden. He helped with the gold, too. It just takes Caib to get him involved. Here's a quick one on Braden, (So You Know how great he is) Yesterday a friend called and wanted the older boys to go to the park and play games with them. I'm a bit leery about the park and hanging out type stuff. I've seen it lead to a lot of trouble so I told Braden I didn't think it was a good Idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright" Says Braden though I could tell he really wanted to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You also have a couple of grades you need to bring up. Says I, "Hows that going?". He promptly went in checked his grades on the computer and pulled out his home work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He then pestered me a little more about going to the park again since his chores and homework were done so I had him call and talk to his dad. Dad told him no, too. I knew he was disappointed but he understood why and later that afternoon when we ran to the store to get some "must have" pencil lead for mechanical pencils he said to me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mom, Have you noticed that I'm trying to not complain as much when you and Dad tell me No?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you've got good kids you just can't help but feel consumed with gratitude!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584428436441483314" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-j8sz9Mbno/TX_gE0uvSDI/AAAAAAAABvU/X-a_1ldMDh0/s400/March%2B2011%2B076.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;That's not saying they ain't got their problems, but hey, who doesn't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584428425439717266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3AK1OG0waXg/TX_gELvtp5I/AAAAAAAABvM/jMr7qY13NKw/s400/March%2B2011%2B116.jpg" /&gt; Big Rocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5602196692414418714?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5602196692414418714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5602196692414418714&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5602196692414418714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5602196692414418714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/ive-struck-gold.html' title='I&apos;ve Struck Gold!!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bj6_yBf0xC8/TX_ihanLqfI/AAAAAAAABvs/ZKdqUHwKw-0/s72-c/March%2B2011%2B123.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2228262482923965604</id><published>2011-03-12T20:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T21:05:35.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Help Us We Can Do!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8HS1QNO08lw/TXw5R4L7VFI/AAAAAAAABvE/Jm2l6lgAt4o/s1600/imagesCASDHOVI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 146px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583400617335542866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8HS1QNO08lw/TXw5R4L7VFI/AAAAAAAABvE/Jm2l6lgAt4o/s400/imagesCASDHOVI.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Every time Chance is asked to say a prayer he always begins with "Heavenly Father, Thank thee for our blessings and please help us we can do." he never says what it is he wants help doing, it's just "Please help us we can do."   He's been doing this for as long as I can remember. We've never discouraged him from saying it or tried to get him to add anything to it we just smile and know that it's a "Chance thing".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... a few nights ago After prayers Chance lied down on the floor with his blanket and I noticed that he was getting ready to drift off to sleep so I said immediately,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Chance, get up and get your pajamas on and use the bathroom before you fall to sleep." (He falls to sleep almost every night on the floor still dressed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't!!!"  He whines, "I'm to tired and my legs ache" (He says this every time I catch him before he falls  asleep)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh, "Chance" Says I, " Every time you pray you ask Heavenly Father to please help us do.  How do you expect Him to help you "do" if you just lay there?  Now get up and do!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise he looked up at me, a look of comprehension slowly covered his face and he jumped up and went in to get his P.J.'S on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to find a good quote to use for one of my walls.  I believe I've found the quote I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Please help us we can do&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;                            -Chance Brian- &lt;br /&gt;and surrounding the quote will be pictures of my children as they DO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for sweet whisperings that help us teach our children.  I know that I didn't come up with that one on my own. How I pray that my children will learn to Do the will of the Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2228262482923965604?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2228262482923965604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2228262482923965604&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2228262482923965604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2228262482923965604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/please-help-us-we-can-do.html' title='Please Help Us We Can Do!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8HS1QNO08lw/TXw5R4L7VFI/AAAAAAAABvE/Jm2l6lgAt4o/s72-c/imagesCASDHOVI.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1679055730363181530</id><published>2011-03-07T09:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T11:34:08.052-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cowboy poetry'/><title type='text'>Long Weekend</title><content type='html'>I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; frustrated!! We spent last Friday and Saturday in Logan at the first annual Cache valley Cowboy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Rendezvous&lt;/span&gt; Braden and Caib were both featured poets and performed on stage with the Bar J Wranglers. I took pictures and they are on my computer but they went into a program I don't usually use so I can't figure out how to get them to load onto blogger. GRRRR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a really good time, Though. They asked the boys if they would come to the Youth Cowboy Poetry contest and recite a poem and give the kids some pointers on performing. They both recited a poem and Braden got up and talked to the kids for a minute about a few things. I was really impressed with him. He did a great job. He encouraged the kids to talk with the cowboy poets who were at the Rendezvous and get pointers from them. He told them to listen closely to the judges and do what they say because the judges want you to succeed. He then told them that the most important thing was to not quit. To continue writing and reciting poetry. I'm surprised at how easy it is for Braden to get up on stage. He's comfortable and really enjoys it. Caib did a great job, too. He tends to get a little more nervous then Braden and really dosen't "like" getting on stage but that kid has an amazing ability to memorize stuff and he has such a unique way of presenting his poems that it's fun to watch him. He's very dry!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...Thanks to my sister for watching the three littlest kids they had a great time, too, although Chance keeps reassuring me that he really, really missed me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1679055730363181530?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1679055730363181530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1679055730363181530&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1679055730363181530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1679055730363181530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/03/long-weekend.html' title='Long Weekend'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6384468974682877476</id><published>2011-02-27T19:47:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T20:15:08.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4lEoCR3moZM/TWsTAqUX21I/AAAAAAAABu8/GszYdgM07rI/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578573465509157714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4lEoCR3moZM/TWsTAqUX21I/AAAAAAAABu8/GszYdgM07rI/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dinner, quite often, on Sunday nights consists of Grilled Cheese &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sandwiches. This Sunday was no exception. We always do a Roast or Ham or something right after church and sit around the table so Sunday night is very informal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;So....I had Chance sitting at the Island eating his grilled cheese. Everyone else had either already eaten or had yet to eat. I had him all situated and turned to leaver the kitchen when I heard him say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;"Hey, You remind me of some one." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;"What?" Says I as I stopped in my tracks trying to decide if he had just said that to me, or if he was just talking to himself (not uncommon)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;But, He Say's again...."You remind me of some one."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;"Who?" I say out of extreme curiosity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;"Some one special, really Special!" Says Chance with a knowing look.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Now I'm really Curious!! As I say, "Well, who?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;He looks up at me with a sideways look and points at me. "you." he simply says and continues to eat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance, You sure make it fun to be a mom!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6384468974682877476?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6384468974682877476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6384468974682877476&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6384468974682877476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6384468974682877476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4lEoCR3moZM/TWsTAqUX21I/AAAAAAAABu8/GszYdgM07rI/s72-c/Feb.%2B2011%2B072.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6157824721502246729</id><published>2011-02-22T17:52:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T17:57:47.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing mood Swings</title><content type='html'>It's taken me all day, but I finally cleaned the bathrooms.  Amazing what those little rooms can do for us.  It works &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt;, too.  Especially if the cause of my bad mood is because It's bathroom scrubbing day. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6157824721502246729?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6157824721502246729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6157824721502246729&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6157824721502246729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6157824721502246729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/amazing-mood-swings.html' title='Amazing mood Swings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6088697237785543221</id><published>2011-02-18T09:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T09:32:09.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YaY!! For the Dads</title><content type='html'>I wish I had a picture for this blog.  I've been smiling about this all morning.  For the most part this was a typical Friday.  We all got up had pancakes and sent the boys off to catch the bus.  The difference was that Today was Parent Pastry day at the Elementary School.  More particularly, Daddy Doughnut Day.  Some of you may know what this is.  We did this a few years ago and the school has decided to start it up again.  Next month will be Mommy Muffin Day.  This is where the particular parent takes their child to school at 7:30 AM and reads with them while eating a doughnut or muffin until school begins at 8:05.  So...I didn't have to take Aubree to school she got to go with her dad this morning but,  I still had to go down and do the crossing guard.  When I pulled up to the corner. I looked down the street to where rows of  vehicles sat as Dads dutifully ate doughnuts and read to their children.  I couldn't help but laugh as I noticed that all I could see were rows of Pick-ups in every size.  and there were a lot of them.  Way to go dads!!!  We live in a great place.  You know if this had been the month of May most of the pick--ups would have had cow dogs quietly sitting in the backs patiently waiting for their owners to come back out, and wondering why they don't get any doughnuts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6088697237785543221?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6088697237785543221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6088697237785543221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6088697237785543221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6088697237785543221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/yay-for-dads.html' title='YaY!! For the Dads'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-509459421812746006</id><published>2011-02-17T09:38:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T09:56:54.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hopefully not a Half Finished Project</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UBc-nbWGnDg/TV1Q86KVQvI/AAAAAAAABu0/TlRXEaF2-oA/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574700921089508082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UBc-nbWGnDg/TV1Q86KVQvI/AAAAAAAABu0/TlRXEaF2-oA/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B069.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm not, what I would consider, a crafty person.  but when my 8 year old began reading the little house books and asked me what a rag doll was I suddenly felt this strange crafty desire to, not only tell her, but show her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSNrHeWxSRM/TV1Q8qdZPoI/AAAAAAAABus/LCJTe9446zI/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574700916874493570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSNrHeWxSRM/TV1Q8qdZPoI/AAAAAAAABus/LCJTe9446zI/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B070.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So,  This is where we are at so far.  I'm still working on their hair  I'm going to use the purple material for the dress and the white with purple polka dots for the bloomers.&lt;br /&gt;I know they aren't very fancy But, not being naturally crafty,  I think they are turning out alright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-509459421812746006?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/509459421812746006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=509459421812746006&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/509459421812746006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/509459421812746006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/hopefully-not-half-finished-project.html' title='Hopefully not a Half Finished Project'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UBc-nbWGnDg/TV1Q86KVQvI/AAAAAAAABu0/TlRXEaF2-oA/s72-c/Feb.%2B2011%2B069.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-356395213696337530</id><published>2011-02-11T09:36:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T16:16:02.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile, Dang It!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hate it when someone asks If you have a picture and Bio for them to put on a program and then they want it A.S.A.P.  So when the kids got home yesterday I made them get decked out as if they were heading to the desert or up on the mountain and I tried to get a few good, recent shots.   SIGH!!!!!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bK11xdmu-bg/TVVuBGO53LI/AAAAAAAABuk/0M_nuUTJdRA/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572481079072906418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bK11xdmu-bg/TVVuBGO53LI/AAAAAAAABuk/0M_nuUTJdRA/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B047.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First off I had to wake &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; up and sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn't.  Of Course it didn't work, because I needed it to.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4If9yuiAcRk/TVVuAzeqG0I/AAAAAAAABuc/AVeGxKX2csE/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572481074038709058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4If9yuiAcRk/TVVuAzeqG0I/AAAAAAAABuc/AVeGxKX2csE/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B053.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; hates pictures no matter what, but he did, finally, humor me. Even though he refused to smile in any picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BVpJlfBc1rc/TVVuA8B0nuI/AAAAAAAABuU/vAnfCePbXts/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572481076333682402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BVpJlfBc1rc/TVVuA8B0nuI/AAAAAAAABuU/vAnfCePbXts/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B039.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It just isn't complete without &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;. No &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Christy&lt;/span&gt; girl you can't take her place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xv2_9xjzr60/TVVpaIHR0TI/AAAAAAAABuM/8JE8kmE3-iw/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572476011516383538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xv2_9xjzr60/TVVpaIHR0TI/AAAAAAAABuM/8JE8kmE3-iw/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I was reviewing the pictures Chance piped up when he saw this one and with a grin Said:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I Like my smile Mom"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, too &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chancee&lt;/span&gt;.  Me too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fvDO4KedzTI/TVVpZ1DTYRI/AAAAAAAABuE/yWczPHHXWFE/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 334px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572476006399435026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fvDO4KedzTI/TVVpZ1DTYRI/AAAAAAAABuE/yWczPHHXWFE/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B056.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love my little cowgirls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cdQhpFxj10M/TVVpZ4OMbfI/AAAAAAAABt8/h3NmHkkjutM/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 285px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572476007250423282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cdQhpFxj10M/TVVpZ4OMbfI/AAAAAAAABt8/h3NmHkkjutM/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B034.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Uh where's Braden and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uYYiFJ5b80E/TVVpZqfS3TI/AAAAAAAABt0/gEgduTlH-dE/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572476003564051762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uYYiFJ5b80E/TVVpZqfS3TI/AAAAAAAABt0/gEgduTlH-dE/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B042.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; screaming , The wind blowing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oDAFxbdW6MY/TVVpZi0CN3I/AAAAAAAABts/0LpqBkHxYbg/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572476001503557490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oDAFxbdW6MY/TVVpZi0CN3I/AAAAAAAABts/0LpqBkHxYbg/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B030.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This one is probably the best one with them facing me but......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRHOSkOIEB0/TVVmYhtno9I/AAAAAAAABtk/TUnzKASdFl4/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572472685493461970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRHOSkOIEB0/TVVmYhtno9I/AAAAAAAABtk/TUnzKASdFl4/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B032.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may just have to settle for this one.&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;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-356395213696337530?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/356395213696337530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=356395213696337530&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/356395213696337530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/356395213696337530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/smile-dang-it.html' title='Smile, Dang It!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bK11xdmu-bg/TVVuBGO53LI/AAAAAAAABuk/0M_nuUTJdRA/s72-c/Feb.%2B2011%2B047.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2749905914427752067</id><published>2011-02-10T10:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T10:13:36.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today,. an Inventor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0I-uRlsk5m4/TVQbQplepSI/AAAAAAAABtc/hRn68YfNOEg/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572108611819054370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0I-uRlsk5m4/TVQbQplepSI/AAAAAAAABtc/hRn68YfNOEg/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; replacing defective pieces&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XrtDg4NCoo8/TVQbQBrJfwI/AAAAAAAABtU/UYXDhLunG9Q/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572108601105415938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XrtDg4NCoo8/TVQbQBrJfwI/AAAAAAAABtU/UYXDhLunG9Q/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A broom with wheels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xk7PKVzzUxI/TVQbP14kBuI/AAAAAAAABtM/8KOn6nU2v1w/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572108597940455138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xk7PKVzzUxI/TVQbP14kBuI/AAAAAAAABtM/8KOn6nU2v1w/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B020.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;will the handle work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CeHRvsbHog/TVQbPqnvdMI/AAAAAAAABtE/MuEFqf2xRSQ/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572108594917110978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CeHRvsbHog/TVQbPqnvdMI/AAAAAAAABtE/MuEFqf2xRSQ/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES!!!  It worked for two seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2749905914427752067?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2749905914427752067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2749905914427752067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2749905914427752067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2749905914427752067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/today-inventor.html' title='Today,. an Inventor'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0I-uRlsk5m4/TVQbQplepSI/AAAAAAAABtc/hRn68YfNOEg/s72-c/Feb.%2B2011%2B022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2198368345287515221</id><published>2011-02-08T19:02:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T19:56:46.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings, sort of.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TVH7gDhgsbI/AAAAAAAABs0/afSUpw9hAeY/s1600/Feb.%2B2011%2B016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571510742154260914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TVH7gDhgsbI/AAAAAAAABs0/afSUpw9hAeY/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B016.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His Thinking Cap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are very few kids like Chance. In fact........ there is no other kid like Chance. Each morning when we are all up and the day is just beginning and people are scurrying around getting ready for school or heading out to&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;do chores Dad always asks Chance, "What are you going to be today, Chance?" Chance always puts his thinking cap on and comes up with something new just about every day. Today he was Indiana Jones. He's been a cowboy, spider man, a builder, a Paleontologist, a scientist, an astronaut, an adventurer, a dad.......etc.&lt;br /&gt;This has got to be one of my favorites though! He got Tinker Toys for Christmas. He has two of the longer sticks in each of his pockets:&lt;br /&gt;"Mom," says Chance "guess what I'm being?"&lt;br /&gt;"What?" says I,&lt;br /&gt;"I'm and old Man and my legs don't work any more so I built me these levers and I have to use them to walk. See I just push on them and My legs will move. AND, If I push the button on the top I can jump!"&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean? What kid pretends he's an old man that can't walk? And not only that, what kid comes up with a solution to help him solve not only the walking problem, but He can Jump, as well!!&lt;br /&gt;The fun thing is listening to his older brothers come up with ways he can be all of those things in one. They've decided that he can fly to a new planet discover what animals used to live there, build his own home, raise his own beef etc. I can't wait to find out what he really ends up becoming. He always falls back on three things An astronaut, a paleontologist and most importantly, a dad!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571516494635542578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TVIAu5L7KDI/AAAAAAAABs8/NCmIkLpuw1w/s400/Feb.%2B2011%2B014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Here I sit blogging away with only a few interuptions: It's just Chance coming in every now and then to show me the musical instruments he's been making because:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Mom," says Chance, I'm going to be a musical instrument maker"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0;color:#000000;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2198368345287515221?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2198368345287515221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2198368345287515221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2198368345287515221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2198368345287515221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/chancees-chatterings-sort-of.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings, sort of.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TVH7gDhgsbI/AAAAAAAABs0/afSUpw9hAeY/s72-c/Feb.%2B2011%2B016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1096559947148875722</id><published>2011-02-06T11:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T11:37:39.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making it Through</title><content type='html'>I've had a few experiences where something that seemed insignificant to the giver meant more then the giver could comprehend. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(think about that one!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So I wrote a poem, I tend to do a lot of that. Sometimes they only mean something to me, but, then, that's really the only reason I write them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; was up most of the night with a fever which means I sent everyone to church but she and me. I HATE missing church it throws my whole week off, and lately (like for two days) I've been needing, well, Church. Do you ever feel like your on the verge of finally stepping up and improving yourself and then Satan starts pounding on you. Luckily my skins so thick that all he's managing to do is make a lot of loud banging sounds but they're VERY irritating. So anyway back to my poem. here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glimpsing Eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my secure self sitting there upon the bench;&lt;br /&gt;I stood and walked towards my friend.&lt;br /&gt;Letting go of enmity I looked into her eyes;&lt;br /&gt;Glimpsing no beginning and no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked towards her, imperfect as we were,&lt;br /&gt;The only feeling there between us both,&lt;br /&gt;Was love in guarded care, it could not consume,&lt;br /&gt;For, ‘&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tis&lt;/span&gt; true, we needed much more growth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, for just an instant, as we were wrapped in arms of love,&lt;br /&gt;I knew I could feel the saviors touch.&lt;br /&gt;Because my friend, who like me, is longing for His love,&lt;br /&gt;Can and will teach me so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long for perfect love without misinterpretation,&lt;br /&gt;How grateful for moments such as those,&lt;br /&gt;When for only just a moment heavens whispered touch;&lt;br /&gt;Is felt as we draw each other close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;©-Cathy Brian- Dec. 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things are just felt, but never forgotten as we stumble through this life, living as best we can. Thankfully we can be tools in the Lords hands as we recognize the needs of others. Even the simplest acts of love (a hug) can bless the life of a friend or stranger as we recognize and act upon the promptings from the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've received hugs from both friends and strangers that have made my life more tender and worthwhile. I've begun to look harder for people that may need a hug. If I can help others along the way then, surely, I'll find I'm right there on the pathway prodding along beside them to a grand destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1096559947148875722?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1096559947148875722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1096559947148875722&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1096559947148875722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1096559947148875722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/02/making-it-through.html' title='Making it Through'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1137928045734291368</id><published>2011-01-27T19:19:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T20:00:55.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Things Are Just Irresistible To Me</title><content type='html'>One of those irresistible things, ahem...apparently, is a rip stick don't ask me why but when my boys asked for and got one for Christmas and I watched them rip sticken (a moms attempt at sounding cool) down the street,  something told me, "I can look that cool."  So, I had to try it.  I nearly ended  up in the emergency room a couple of times outside.  At least that's what it felt like when I went one way and the rip stick the other,  But in my defense I always ended up on my feet.  So,  I knew this attempt to look cool was feasible.  My goal is to be able to ride down to the store with one of my teenage boys to get a pack of gum.  I have this WEIRD idea that I would some how be the coolest Mom in Wayne County If I could pull it off with out crashing and ending up in the hospital.   Anyway,  Here's proof that I am working on my goal and that I will one day be THE coolest Mom ever!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2b925162a0e7721f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2b925162a0e7721f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329948795%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1AF23AE06608384A44A752A1943E47BC6021C420.544EBE1745A3259290A74895A638A5C14052472%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2b925162a0e7721f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLehBDDC5jWWbTnuUIB2RHo5nqps&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2b925162a0e7721f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329948795%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1AF23AE06608384A44A752A1943E47BC6021C420.544EBE1745A3259290A74895A638A5C14052472%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2b925162a0e7721f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLehBDDC5jWWbTnuUIB2RHo5nqps&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;I expect to go north and visit my sister who has sort of the same goal!!  and we are going rip sticken together!! Oh Yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1137928045734291368?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=2b925162a0e7721f&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1137928045734291368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1137928045734291368&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1137928045734291368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1137928045734291368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/some-things-are-just-irresistible-to-me.html' title='Some Things Are Just Irresistible To Me'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1372677793639591204</id><published>2011-01-24T10:43:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T11:29:42.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings on a Mild January morning.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Do you ever feel like you could do something great and meaningful and truly amazing? You know you have it in you but you just can't figure out what that truly amazing thing is. I always look around me and try to figure it out. I know that it's close to disclosing itself but, alas, It remains dormant. AAAARRRRRGGGGG!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, then, Some one makes a comment and it stops you in your tracks, you think.......you think some more.........and..........well............... Maybe it is all worth it and even though my truly great self is still emerging.....I'm happy with who I am, and what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Comment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cabinet maker was here Saturday putting up crown molding and doing a few things he still needs to do. He walked in the house with some of the molding and said,with some thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In my next life I'm not going to be a cabinet maker."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who'll build all the cabinets?" Says I&lt;br /&gt;He turned looked at me and with a look of curiosity asks, "do you really think you'd want to be a home maker in Loa in your next life?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was standing by my new kitchen sink loading dishes into the dishwasher,and though it wasn't visibly noticeable, I felt myself jerk and think almost immediately(to my surprise) "Well what else would I be? Of course I would want this!!" I can't even remember what my verbal reply was because I knew that I wanted to be exactly where I was doing exactly what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love little slaps in the face like that. I can truly say that I am happy with what I'm doing right now in my life and I watch my little ones and not so little ones as they grow, and.......That's it. That is my truly great accomplishment. Why would I step off of the path or look for something greater when the greatest accomplishment I could make is right there in front of me.....on the path that I've already chosen. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TT3E5gewBZI/AAAAAAAABsA/GBMyFlzbHGY/s1600/August%2B2010%2B141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565821206750299538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TT3E5gewBZI/AAAAAAAABsA/GBMyFlzbHGY/s400/August%2B2010%2B141.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1372677793639591204?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1372677793639591204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1372677793639591204&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1372677793639591204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1372677793639591204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/ramblings-on-mild-january-morning.html' title='Ramblings on a Mild January morning.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TT3E5gewBZI/AAAAAAAABsA/GBMyFlzbHGY/s72-c/August%2B2010%2B141.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-362528225647154629</id><published>2011-01-20T12:33:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T12:56:18.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, someone needed to take control!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8aba34c40795a365" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8aba34c40795a365%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329948795%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D67E8B579D6635AD5E77BEF0897F7D9144B65CC80.381251E312FE73E9DF30FE41B15DA8C100C91E6C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8aba34c40795a365%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoSztk8pnd-_Vzo6wxvqDHfh30Xg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8aba34c40795a365%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329948795%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D67E8B579D6635AD5E77BEF0897F7D9144B65CC80.381251E312FE73E9DF30FE41B15DA8C100C91E6C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8aba34c40795a365%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoSztk8pnd-_Vzo6wxvqDHfh30Xg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Oreo stayed tied up for about three days. We thought we'd solved the problem, but when He got loose again, Christy decided she'd better take control and put the goat up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;GO Christy!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-362528225647154629?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=8aba34c40795a365&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/362528225647154629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=362528225647154629&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/362528225647154629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/362528225647154629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/well-someone-needed-to-take-control.html' title='Well, someone needed to take control!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7454316397011139943</id><published>2011-01-14T09:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T09:23:22.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Antics of Oaklee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KyPU2ZI/AAAAAAAABrQ/hzMwOKR4AE0/s1600/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562074367947757970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KyPU2ZI/AAAAAAAABrQ/hzMwOKR4AE0/s400/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B020.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know,  Every body thinks their kids are the cutest the smartest, the funniest, etc.......... But really, mine are!!!!! This &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;is a&lt;/span&gt; picture of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; doing her "BIG EYES" That's all it takes some one says, "Hey &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;, show me your big eyes." and this is what we get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KcTwoeI/AAAAAAAABrI/Gf9O-T6EJZ0/s1600/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562074362060775906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KcTwoeI/AAAAAAAABrI/Gf9O-T6EJZ0/s400/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course we don't stop there.   Now we get, "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;, Show me your happy eyes."  We get Happy eyes.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KFeX6qI/AAAAAAAABrA/rj1kluedIYY/s1600/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562074355931277986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KFeX6qI/AAAAAAAABrA/rj1kluedIYY/s400/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How about sad eyes?   Sure, We get "sad eyes" too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1JzNpTjI/AAAAAAAABq4/Qp6NZy9KNRA/s1600/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562074351029276210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1JzNpTjI/AAAAAAAABq4/Qp6NZy9KNRA/s400/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angry eyes?  You got it.  But, My favorite hands down is....................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1JMYw5YI/AAAAAAAABqw/sxRmoLxJyAc/s1600/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562074340606928258" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1JMYw5YI/AAAAAAAABqw/sxRmoLxJyAc/s400/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those adorable "BIG EYES"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7454316397011139943?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7454316397011139943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7454316397011139943&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7454316397011139943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7454316397011139943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/antics-of-oaklee.html' title='Antics of Oaklee'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TTB1KyPU2ZI/AAAAAAAABrQ/hzMwOKR4AE0/s72-c/ch%2Bdecember%2B2010%2B020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4015132860506436204</id><published>2011-01-12T10:53:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T12:35:09.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are You Thinkin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS3123SrAXI/AAAAAAAABqI/6ku_sXWm_Lg/s1600/January%2B2011%2B02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561371437776437618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS3123SrAXI/AAAAAAAABqI/6ku_sXWm_Lg/s400/January%2B2011%2B02.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basketball season started a few weeks before Christmas break. There's about 18-20 7th and 8th grade boys so they divided them in to three teams. The boys have been playing against each other. The Coaches got together and placed the boys on teams trying to be as fair as possible. This put Braden and Caib on different teams.  Oh well.  It's kind of fun to cheer for both teams when they play against each other;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently they took the best players from the three teams and made a traveling team.  Both the boys are on this team so now for 5 weeks we get to travel every Saturday to different small towns around South Central Utah.  Last Saturday we headed South over the Hogs back to Escalante  I'd been over the Hogs Back but I'd never driven it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the boys sat in the pick up waiting for me to come out to drive them to Escalante Caib grabbed my Camera and took some pictures of Aubree's puppy, Christy.  I think it was because we were going to be gone all day and I had commented about her taking off if no one was around.  Caib started to worry and figured we needed some way to identify her if she did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312pbRM2I/AAAAAAAABqA/0WA2ojq413U/s1600/January%2B20%2B11%2B04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561371434054398818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312pbRM2I/AAAAAAAABqA/0WA2ojq413U/s400/January%2B20%2B11%2B04.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of the scenery we got to enjoy on the ride home from Escalante.  I should have stopped on the Hogs Back but I was a little to shaky. For those who don't know what   the Hogs Back is.....Just imagine driving across a tight rope. that turns and curves It's quite an experience,  But It is beautiful!!  This picture was also an attempt to make up for the fact that I forgot to take any pictures at the ball game.  I'll get some at Paiute this Saturday. What was I thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312Z1z04I/AAAAAAAABp4/orOIQgQj6pw/s1600/January%2B2011%2B06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561371429870752642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312Z1z04I/AAAAAAAABp4/orOIQgQj6pw/s400/January%2B2011%2B06.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's time once Again to blog about our infamous Pygmy goat, Oreo, or as Caib fondly calls him "Gutsy"  Yes he is wandering around the yard he has been for two or three days now.  The boys go out and tie him up and minutes or sometimes hours later he's wandering around the yard again.  When I go get Aubree from school I get home and he's standing in the drive way waiting for us.  He comes right up to the car door and waits for me to open it.  He doesn't want petted or anything because if I reach out to try he'll rare up and pretend he's HUGE!!  Anyway, this morning I grabbed my camera and snapped a few pictures.  He hears some one coming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312P7i08I/AAAAAAAABpw/t3V7O16lBDc/s1600/January%2B2011%2B08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561371427210449858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS312P7i08I/AAAAAAAABpw/t3V7O16lBDc/s400/January%2B2011%2B08.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh hay, It's the big guy with a bag  I think I'll go check this out." &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS311uGoW4I/AAAAAAAABpo/i1HUEWCWiXA/s1600/January%2B2011%2B09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561371418130144130" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS311uGoW4I/AAAAAAAABpo/i1HUEWCWiXA/s400/January%2B2011%2B09.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah shucks,  I was sure he had a treat for me!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Due to some very tender hearted people out there I won't blog the next picture.  But Oreo, AKA, Gutsy  was firmly urged back towards the hay stack with a firm if not solid kick, where he stayed for .02 seconds and then headed back towards my rose bush for a tasty snack.   SIGH.......Why do we put up with this strange little fur ball?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ahem...... So what?  I can't help it!!! I like the little fella  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&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/6336248339197200150-4015132860506436204?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4015132860506436204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4015132860506436204&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4015132860506436204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4015132860506436204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-are-you-thinkin.html' title='What are You Thinkin&apos;'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TS3123SrAXI/AAAAAAAABqI/6ku_sXWm_Lg/s72-c/January%2B2011%2B02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8466355413763081515</id><published>2011-01-10T11:07:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T11:17:53.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Because</title><content type='html'>I'm not supposed to be blogging. (I've got a ton of other stuff I should be doing) But I am......Just Because.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when I read a blog and it makes me smile. Thanks 32 smiles to the gallon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when I go back and read my old blogs and I blogged something that makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when my family blogs and I get to peak into their lives on an ordinary day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when some obscure stranger reads my blog, comments and then I comment on theirs and occasionally we comment on each others blog because they make us smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love reading my blog book and finding things that I would NEVER have remembered if I hadn't blogged them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and..........Now I'm heading out to do a bit of social exercising with some friends. (I've already walked a couple miles on the treadmill...shhhh don't tell :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8466355413763081515?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8466355413763081515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8466355413763081515&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8466355413763081515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8466355413763081515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2011/01/just-because.html' title='Just Because'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1185782149332351784</id><published>2010-12-30T12:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T12:21:32.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chicken Ranch</title><content type='html'>Early in the morning the sun was all ablaze and Chance headed out to take care of the chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRzYEt3znxI/AAAAAAAABpQ/rZzKTDBgMhY/s1600/roger%2B005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556553615813091090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRzYEt3znxI/AAAAAAAABpQ/rZzKTDBgMhY/s400/roger%2B005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A gorgeous sunrise in Wayne County.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRzYFArFmOI/AAAAAAAABpg/zl3idez8ezw/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556553620860016866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRzYFArFmOI/AAAAAAAABpg/zl3idez8ezw/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love how the chickens gather in the window to gossip and soak in the sun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One morning as we sat around the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Breakfast&lt;/span&gt; table we discussed the way in which &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chancee's&lt;/span&gt; mind works.  You need to know that the chickens are the full responsibility of this five year old and by the time breakfast was over we were giggling at the thought of this poem that emerged with in minutes of our conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Chicken Ranch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Dad bought me some chickens; he got ‘em when they were young.       &lt;br /&gt;They’d sit there in my little hand and peck me on my thumb.                      &lt;br /&gt;And then they all got bigger and do you know what they did?                   &lt;br /&gt;Well, they started laying eggs for this chicken growing kid.                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decided it was time to brand my chicken brood.                                  &lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t sure if they’d let me or even act to good.                                       &lt;br /&gt;It &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t hurt to try it, though I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t sure just how.                             &lt;br /&gt;But, I had watched my daddy when he’d branded our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;’ cow.                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I grabbed a chicken, took the stick that I’d got hot.                                 &lt;br /&gt;And I surely tried my best, but to brand it, I could not.                                &lt;br /&gt;I’d never heard a chicken make that awful screeching sound                      &lt;br /&gt;She began pecking and scratching, I dropped her to the ground                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I turned my chicken loose, her tail was in a flame!                         &lt;br /&gt;That smell of burning feathers told me this was not a game!&lt;br /&gt;That chicken ran squawking to the haystack so’s she could hide.&lt;br /&gt;I really love cooked chicken but them cows don’t eat hay fried.                  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I panicked, and I started yelling with a scratchy voice                                                         &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘Cause Chickens don’t speak human, so’s I really had no choice.                 &lt;br /&gt;And though I squawked and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bellered&lt;/span&gt; like a chicken probably would           &lt;br /&gt;That chicken kept on hiding and things just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t looking good.             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smoke was getting thicker and I headed for the hose                          &lt;br /&gt;I cranked it so hard that the water hit me in the nose.                                &lt;br /&gt;Flustered and quite anxious I really tried as best I could                             &lt;br /&gt;To catch that dancing hose, but that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;durn&lt;/span&gt; hose misunderstood.                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then finally, by some pure luck, I caught that flying snake                    &lt;br /&gt;And thanked my lucky stars that I had got a little break.                             &lt;br /&gt;That’s when I turned to see red flames a coming from the stack               &lt;br /&gt;And I started in spraying and a praying in my track.                                    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flames they started dying and I took a long deep breath                      &lt;br /&gt;When all the sudden something nearly scared me clear to death.             &lt;br /&gt;That chicken flew straight at me with some smoke still on her tail           &lt;br /&gt;Like a real hungry coyote on a frightened rabbits trail.                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how she done it but I landed on my back                                &lt;br /&gt;And I opened up my eyes ‘neath that smoking old haystack                        &lt;br /&gt;Standing right there above me and looking not too happy                          &lt;br /&gt;Was a man I know quite well, there stood my good &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; pappy.                    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?” came the words out of his mouth.       &lt;br /&gt;All I felt like doing was getting up and running south.                                 &lt;br /&gt;“I’m just trying to brand my chickens, so’s people know they’re mine.”     &lt;br /&gt;“I want to be like you dad!” and I nearly started cry’n.                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I described my situation I could see the rage die                                         &lt;br /&gt;Luckily the fire was out in the haystack and dad’s eye.                                &lt;br /&gt;We cleaned up from the mess I’d made it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t and easy chore,&lt;br /&gt;Because I’d burned up three whole bales and I’d singed many more.        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as we turned to head inside, I brightened at a thought                        &lt;br /&gt;“Dad,” says I, “I’m thinking with all these chickens that I got                     &lt;br /&gt;If may be sometime really soon or even clear next year                             &lt;br /&gt;Instead of branding all my hens, let’s mark ‘em on the ear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ©Cathy Brian 2010&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/6336248339197200150-1185782149332351784?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1185782149332351784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1185782149332351784&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1185782149332351784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1185782149332351784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/chancees-chicken-ranch.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chicken Ranch'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRzYEt3znxI/AAAAAAAABpQ/rZzKTDBgMhY/s72-c/roger%2B005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5253748777433698350</id><published>2010-12-29T13:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T14:27:52.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Christmas!!</title><content type='html'>Christmas eve after the festivities at Grandmas house and seeing Rudolph come and peek in her window, as usual, with glowing red nose and all&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf8ABKGPI/AAAAAAAABpI/QQ4qlXdF0pc/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556210418437462258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf8ABKGPI/AAAAAAAABpI/QQ4qlXdF0pc/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B012.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  We hurried home to open our Christmas eve presents- New PJ's for everyone.  I didn't have my camera with me at Grandma's ;( and Chance fell asleep on the couch before I finally found it and started taking pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then Christmas morning came dark and early&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf75mDDVI/AAAAAAAABpA/uExCmi7_-BQ/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556210416713141586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf75mDDVI/AAAAAAAABpA/uExCmi7_-BQ/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee wasn't sure she was even happy about the whole situation.  She'd been sick since Tuesday and this was the first Morning she hadn't woke up with a temperature.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7g8GGXI/AAAAAAAABo4/ONTDScuc5qM/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556210410094729586" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7g8GGXI/AAAAAAAABo4/ONTDScuc5qM/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7qa5VQI/AAAAAAAABow/LgT3vha-XSM/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556210412639835394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7qa5VQI/AAAAAAAABow/LgT3vha-XSM/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Waiting at the door of Moms room for Dad to turn on the Christmas tree. and Oaklee on her new Pink Bike.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7QStJ8I/AAAAAAAABoo/sgI8gs2foMw/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556210405626161090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf7QStJ8I/AAAAAAAABoo/sgI8gs2foMw/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B034.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The most exciting present of all, both for the giver and the receiver.  Aubree had asked for a toy dog that cost a lot.  She'd been asking all year for a real dog until I finally told her if she wanted one she could save her money up until she could buy one.  She had 70.00 dollars saved and it didn't even occure to her to ask Santa for a real dog.  Santa didn't bring her one though.  Dad did.  He had Braden run outside by the hay stack and get the dog, when the dog was on the front porch it started whining so Caib and I started talking really loud as Dad had Aubree open up a small package with a dog collar in it.  At the appropriate time Caib and I quit talking but the puppy was silent we all laughed and Aubree stood there with a confused look until Braden opened the door and the puppy came running in.  It was fun!!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudLLKfjfI/AAAAAAAABog/XSTkAZcCUUg/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556207380592561650" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudLLKfjfI/AAAAAAAABog/XSTkAZcCUUg/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B025.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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&gt;She also got a bb gun which she did ask Santa for.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudLAmCcII/AAAAAAAABoY/7be7rjcYvFI/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556207377755304066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudLAmCcII/AAAAAAAABoY/7be7rjcYvFI/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B026.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;div&gt;Caib with his new gloves and fencing tool.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudK_4YSDI/AAAAAAAABoQ/OAUYZweTuws/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556207377563797554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudK_4YSDI/AAAAAAAABoQ/OAUYZweTuws/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B021.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;div&gt;Braden a new belt buckle and some ammo&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudKqqiIkI/AAAAAAAABoI/rRCKhBrJ4eM/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556207371868578370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudKqqiIkI/AAAAAAAABoI/rRCKhBrJ4eM/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B050.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;And then there's Chance, He's quite a kid!  He's been telling everyone that when he grows up he's going to be a Paleontologist.  So Santa brought him a rock with dinosaur bones in it.  He'd been digging away for hours and then a couple of days before I got tired of the little gravel scattered all over the table and floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudKRE0eDI/AAAAAAAABoA/IkCF9Qi7_J4/s1600/Christmas%2B2010%2B048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556207364999510066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRudKRE0eDI/AAAAAAAABoA/IkCF9Qi7_J4/s400/Christmas%2B2010%2B048.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;I finally cleaned up the mess and put the rock and bones  in the cupboard for a few days.  Oh, but we had a GREAT Christmas.  Braden was sick all day and then Sunday he was worse and finally Monday I took him to the clinic and he was diagnosed with strep.  UGGH!!!  Chance and Aubree came down with it that Monday and Caib woke up this morning with a Major sore throat.  sigh.  Hopefully we'll all be better for the New Year holiday and the rest of the winter months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5253748777433698350?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5253748777433698350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5253748777433698350&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5253748777433698350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5253748777433698350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-love-christmas.html' title='I love Christmas!!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TRuf8ABKGPI/AAAAAAAABpI/QQ4qlXdF0pc/s72-c/Christmas%2B2010%2B012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1412325738501301509</id><published>2010-12-18T16:36:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T21:07:46.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa Claus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;We must be the luckiest people around here in our tiny, little town. I know there are a lot of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;impostor&lt;/span&gt; Santa Claus's out there but, not ours. Ours is the real life, dyed in the wool, true blue through and through Santa. It all begins with a notice in the paper letting us know that Santa will be coming for a visit to the fire house.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1-I-D8oNI/AAAAAAAABng/DNRLC_h11es/s1600/roger%2B010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552232608181297362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1-I-D8oNI/AAAAAAAABng/DNRLC_h11es/s400/roger%2B010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He parks his sleigh out of town and meets the fire truck. One of the firemen picks him up and brings him into town with sirens blaring. They circle the town so that all the kids know that Santa is here and the kids rush down to the fire house to wait for Santa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here He is!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G4WNvDwI/AAAAAAAABnY/jPPWFjsKJQs/s1600/roger%2B011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552171849467498242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G4WNvDwI/AAAAAAAABnY/jPPWFjsKJQs/s400/roger%2B011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids are so excited that as soon as the fire truck is parked they Run to Santa. Santa steps out of the fire truck with wide open arms and his hearty HO HO HO!!&lt;br /&gt;These kids know that this is the real Santa. They can feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3xX0VKI/AAAAAAAABnQ/SHhBFu80Hpw/s1600/roger%2B012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552171839577674914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3xX0VKI/AAAAAAAABnQ/SHhBFu80Hpw/s400/roger%2B012.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He visits for a minute while the fireman sets up a chair for Santa to sit in and then..&lt;br /&gt;Santa leads them in a song of Rudolph The Red nose Reindeer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3tnLuKI/AAAAAAAABnI/ubgCuNMlsAE/s1600/roger%2B015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552171838568380578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3tnLuKI/AAAAAAAABnI/ubgCuNMlsAE/s400/roger%2B015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In our family &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; was first We got a quick cheese, she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;squeaked&lt;/span&gt; out that she wanted a pink bike ,and jumped down to get her treat from Santa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3frRIGI/AAAAAAAABnA/vmfDIuUTgDI/s1600/roger%2B017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552171834827415650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3frRIGI/AAAAAAAABnA/vmfDIuUTgDI/s400/roger%2B017.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chance was next. Santa reminded the kids that Santa may not be able to bring exactly what they want but he'll do his best. He asked Chance if he would do him a favor on Christmas eve. Santa then proceeded to tell Chance that Rudolph and the other reindeer get a little tired while flying all around the world and he asked Chance if he would be willing to leave a little piece of celery or a carrot out for Rudolph. Chance was of course more then willing to do that for Santa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3Ft5fqI/AAAAAAAABm4/ZDclu3vjO0I/s1600/roger%2B018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552171827859127970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1G3Ft5fqI/AAAAAAAABm4/ZDclu3vjO0I/s400/roger%2B018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And Aubree was the last one in our family to sit on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Santa's&lt;/span&gt; lap. She asked for the&lt;br /&gt;things she wanted most and grabbed her treat and we headed home even more excited then ever for Christmas!! It was so fun to see Such a neat person who loves kids and is the perfect example of caring and giving. Yep, we are the luckiest little town in the world!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1412325738501301509?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1412325738501301509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1412325738501301509&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1412325738501301509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1412325738501301509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/santa-clause.html' title='Santa Claus'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQ1-I-D8oNI/AAAAAAAABng/DNRLC_h11es/s72-c/roger%2B010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4068658445398144187</id><published>2010-12-10T09:16:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T09:51:30.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Antics of Oaklee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQJZQzb6ndI/AAAAAAAABmw/ID4tuVZ2nhg/s1600/Oct.%2B2010%2B244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549095836093947346" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQJZQzb6ndI/AAAAAAAABmw/ID4tuVZ2nhg/s400/Oct.%2B2010%2B244.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, I have a question. Do you have to be a boy to be a daddy's girl? Seriously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have the pleasure of spending an extra one to two hours a night with the little est daughter She is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; a night person. She's  so pleasant and happy at night but a bear in the morning. So... last night we'd gotten all the kids to bed except the little one and we sat down to watch the only show we ever watch on TV, The Mentalist, Dad was feeling lucky because he was getting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; to let him hold her and snuggle her(That's not gonna happen in the mornings) I was enjoying the fact that I could actually follow the story line of the show with out being interrupted by the little ones when dad went and screwed everything up. He was holding &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; and playing with her and taking her to the new kitchen to eat crackers and cheese with him when he made his little mistake. He grabbed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; in a big bear hug and said something like this: "Mom, This is my little Daddy's girl" uh oh! You could see the stiffening and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;stubbornness&lt;/span&gt; emerge from the tip of her head to her little toes..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I not a Daddy's girl!!! I not a boy" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HUH? was the almost audible expression on my face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yes", says Roger she keeps telling me that, watch"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He turns back to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; and says, "come here Daddy's girl" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whoa, for the frost mingled with determination that flew from her eyes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"NO, I NOT A BOY" she says, as firmly as she can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, the question: Do you have to be a boy to be a daddy's girl?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty sure that's what's going through her little mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4068658445398144187?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4068658445398144187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4068658445398144187&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4068658445398144187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4068658445398144187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/antics-of-oaklee.html' title='Antics of Oaklee'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TQJZQzb6ndI/AAAAAAAABmw/ID4tuVZ2nhg/s72-c/Oct.%2B2010%2B244.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4677010244286513771</id><published>2010-12-07T12:56:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T14:00:45.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings and Antics of Oaklee</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Amidst the excitement of Christmas life still moves on.  We've had some fun memories made and not just with putting in the tree, although that is always a fun memory.  This year Braden wanted to put the silver garland on the tree.  We haven't put it on for a few years.  In the past Dad has always done the lights and garland because no one else was tall enough.  This year Dad put on the lights but handed the garland to Braden to put on. He did a great job of putting the garland on but dad did step in at the last minute to help.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6Wb6y3isI/AAAAAAAABmA/AMJ4vrjdcTY/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548037197350275778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6Wb6y3isI/AAAAAAAABmA/AMJ4vrjdcTY/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B049.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This year there was quite a bit of snow on the mountain so we couldn't get very high up to give ourselves a better choice of tree's but, I don't care.  I love every tree we get.  The memories are made no matter what shape the tree is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6WbRdhqsI/AAAAAAAABl4/tmkRHHtun00/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548037186254908098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6WbRdhqsI/AAAAAAAABl4/tmkRHHtun00/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B044.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One year we got a Christmas train from Uncle Bart and Aunt Mindi.  The kids LOVE it.  It plays beautiful Christmas music over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over....and I love that even that is a good memory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we walked home from church today in the cold weather, Chance as usual, was in front and behind and here and there and as he walked up ahead at one point we could tell he was intrigued by something at the side of the road. As we got closer he looked up at me and said, "Mom, Look at that ant hill, all those ants must be at Church."  Sure enough no ants were out.  "Well, I guess so." says I.    Chance stood there for a minute and then kind of chuckled as he said almost to himself, "Hm that's funny ants going to church."  and he turned and took off for home.  Caib, looked over at me laughed and said,  "Chancee's Chattering!"  "Yep!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;        &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6U0r01AlI/AAAAAAAABlw/maGRhRyfYAo/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548035423805440594" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6U0r01AlI/AAAAAAAABlw/maGRhRyfYAo/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B032.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Antics of Oaklee:   Dad was home from church for Sunday dinner and a few minutes of rest before he had to go back up to church and while he was home Oaklee brought him one of Chancee's swords and said, "Here Dad, let's fight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6U0cQ9snI/AAAAAAAABlo/ukYwTVns514/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548035419628483186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6U0cQ9snI/AAAAAAAABlo/ukYwTVns514/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B033.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She kept one for herself and they began to fence.  They were having a great time until Dad reached down with his sword and flicked Oaklee's hair up.  "Hey", says Oaklee, "Don't do that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not able to resist Dad once again reaches down with his sword and flicks the other side of her hair up.  "Don't mess my hair" says Oaklee as she drops her sword and runs for the bathroom.  She was back in a flash with her hairbrush and brushed her hair for a minute, set the brush on the table said, "There." and picked up her sword and began fighting again.  Once again not able to resist Dad reaches in and flips her hair with the sword.   Oh the disgust, "Dad!, STOP! DON"T mess my hair." again the sword goes down and up comes the brush. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Who says girls are the same as boys?  I believe you are sadly mistaken!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4677010244286513771?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4677010244286513771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4677010244286513771&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4677010244286513771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4677010244286513771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/chancees-chatterings-and-antics-of.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings and Antics of Oaklee'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TP6Wb6y3isI/AAAAAAAABmA/AMJ4vrjdcTY/s72-c/Nov.%2B2010%2B049.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4569681261658346849</id><published>2010-12-02T20:02:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T20:35:45.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Church is a trial for Chance It's "SOOO LOOOOONG!!!" and it's soooo hard for him to sit still.  But he's learning.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A couple of weeks ago his primary teachers were not at church.  That's a hard thing for a five year old, to walk into singing time and see that his regular teacher is not there.  But He made it through singing time, after coming up front to me a bazillion times to give me a kiss and whisper I love yous into my ear.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All was going well as he headed off to class.  There was a new kid in his class named Chance, too.  His substitute teacher is the first councilor in the bishopric. After church this normally somber serious man was giggling quite a bit as he found Roger and told him of his experience teaching the 4-5 year old primary kids.  Aparently their teacher usually has a snack for them.  Brother Petty, the substitute, had, more then likely, been asked 2 minutes before singing time to teach this class so of course he didn't have a snack and this didn't go over very well. Towards the end of class, one of the kids abruptly asked him where their snack was.  He got just a bit flustered but with a quick recovery he said to the class that today they were going to use their imaginations and pretend that they had a snack to eat.  The new kid looked at the teacher and said, "My imagination is to tired"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That's when Chancee piped up, "Mines Not' says Chance, "My imagination has a force field around it, it never get's tired!!"   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How true that is!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftuEMRnI/AAAAAAAABlg/rC6HQj6QjUE/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546288180171130482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftuEMRnI/AAAAAAAABlg/rC6HQj6QjUE/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B065.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the whole month of November we had a Jedi in training living at our house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftXA6UaI/AAAAAAAABlY/p-w0Q6_KMUw/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546288173983355298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftXA6UaI/AAAAAAAABlY/p-w0Q6_KMUw/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B068.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Check out this move!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftNtsJEI/AAAAAAAABlQ/8L7qIKauII8/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546288171486815298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftNtsJEI/AAAAAAAABlQ/8L7qIKauII8/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B066.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He must be a full fledged Jedi knight now because today he wore his spiderman suit all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4569681261658346849?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4569681261658346849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4569681261658346849&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4569681261658346849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4569681261658346849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/12/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPhftuEMRnI/AAAAAAAABlg/rC6HQj6QjUE/s72-c/Nov.%2B2010%2B065.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5913922620097966853</id><published>2010-11-27T21:22:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T22:35:34.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks giving and Christmas trees</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544836688478307410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM3lyJNhFI/AAAAAAAABlA/aMZcy6wPsg8/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B037.jpg" /&gt;I meant to blog these two pictures last but I forgot. I just thought they were such cute pictures. After a good nap this little guy wakes up happy and excited that we are out getting Christmas trees.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM3lyJNhFI/AAAAAAAABlA/aMZcy6wPsg8/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544836695074214738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM3mKtzE1I/AAAAAAAABlI/esvOcHkxWwE/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "by, Mom!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We started off Saturday into the mountains near our home every one was so excited to go get Christmas trees. So much so that the two littlest fell asleep. While Aubree started in complaining that her tummy hurt. We didn't think to much of it because Aubree is prone to car sickness but this was something more. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0y9z1PcI/AAAAAAAABk4/LuW-4I_Tr-0/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544833616413277634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0y9z1PcI/AAAAAAAABk4/LuW-4I_Tr-0/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chance catching a quick nap on our way out. Oaklee was asleep in my lap. When she woke up she started in complaining about a sick tummy, too. SIGH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544833587655506610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0xSrcerI/AAAAAAAABkg/JwD7JVTeUXc/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B014.jpg" /&gt;And they're off, ax in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544833592277242738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0xj5Wk3I/AAAAAAAABko/XylTQVQd3_g/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B027.jpg" /&gt;What, you've found one already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544833586090602530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0xM2V8CI/AAAAAAAABkY/OREmGf4GmSI/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B015.jpg" /&gt;Oaklee playing a few minutes in the snow before deciding it's to cold and her tummy really does hurt&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831928163126994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzQsloTtI/AAAAAAAABkA/pwUZctaDyyk/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B046.jpg" /&gt;.Be vewwy vewwy quiet, we're hunting Christmas trees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544833603907116658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM0yPOIXnI/AAAAAAAABkw/Xy56ypP-Xv4/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B036.jpg" /&gt;Hmmm! what strange tracks!!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831903726867170" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzPRjkkuI/AAAAAAAABjw/Z-wB7n_LGWI/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B060.jpg" /&gt;What could they be!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831938770108130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzRUGh_uI/AAAAAAAABkQ/yFJbPi7OhzY/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B033.jpg" /&gt;Ah HA!! Looks like he's got one&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831937317733138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzROsQgxI/AAAAAAAABkI/luaflE9PA-Y/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B020.jpg" /&gt;Time for inspection. Each tree they cut and bring back and hold up for Mom to see. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzPrdXAoI/AAAAAAAABj4/5co_KlaEgMI/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544831910680134274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPMzPrdXAoI/AAAAAAAABj4/5co_KlaEgMI/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B063.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We always get extra trees for the widows in the ward.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So to finish the story, Oaklee and Aubree were both sick for the rest of the day. Chance and Dad were sick all night and Dad still looks like death warmed over. aparently we picked up the flu at Thanksgiving dinner. We had a great Thanksgiving despite the flu and had a good time visiting with family. Thanks to all those that put in extra time to make Thanksgiving fun!!&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;div&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;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/6336248339197200150-5913922620097966853?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5913922620097966853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5913922620097966853&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5913922620097966853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5913922620097966853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-giving-and-christmas-trees.html' title='Thanks giving and Christmas trees'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TPM3lyJNhFI/AAAAAAAABlA/aMZcy6wPsg8/s72-c/Nov.%2B2010%2B037.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8539485019724657453</id><published>2010-11-22T13:42:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T14:18:29.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen cabinet fronts and Aubree's 3rd grade play</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW8urcvpI/AAAAAAAABjo/LHG2co_Sptc/s1600/Nov.%2B2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW8urcvpI/AAAAAAAABjo/LHG2co_Sptc/s400/Nov.%2B2010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478630243581586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aubree and three other little cranberries in their Thanks giving play.  I love to watch Aubree perform she's so dramatic and she carries all the others through. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW8JXWWPI/AAAAAAAABjg/W6rqpsep_MA/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW8JXWWPI/AAAAAAAABjg/W6rqpsep_MA/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478620227164402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;you can see the laundry room cabinets In the back room.  I still lack the sink and counter tops in there but everything is still functional and I have SOO much cabinet space.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW7hSIzeI/AAAAAAAABjY/yvDGanDMJBo/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW7hSIzeI/AAAAAAAABjY/yvDGanDMJBo/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478609467887074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One angle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW7cE0CSI/AAAAAAAABjQ/ecsQ5R0RSNU/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW7cE0CSI/AAAAAAAABjQ/ecsQ5R0RSNU/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478608069822754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Same angle. Notice my bar stools that were almost half price so I bought one for each person in the family.  Then of course we had to try them out so for Sunday dinner we ate around the Island.  It was great and we all had PLENTY of elbow room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW629XyhI/AAAAAAAABjI/AcORCqKzbbU/s1600/Nov.%2B2010%2B001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW629XyhI/AAAAAAAABjI/AcORCqKzbbU/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478598106499602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Another angle.&lt;/div&gt;Little by little I'm starting to feel like my house is slowly coming together and it's nicer then anything I imagined.  It amazes me.  I'm so thankful for the talents of my cabinet maker.  He really did an amazing job with what he had to work with.  He still needs to put up the crown molding and the handles  I will of course blog again when he does.  But, If you want to your more then welcome to come down anytime at all and visit It's much nicer in person.&lt;div&gt;We had our third Sunday get together with the other families in the bishopric and it was amazing that 15 kids and their three mothers didn't seem crowded at all.  there is a lot more room in this house.  It's so nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8539485019724657453?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8539485019724657453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8539485019724657453&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8539485019724657453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8539485019724657453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/11/kitchen-cabinet-fronts-and-aubrees-3rd.html' title='Kitchen cabinet fronts and Aubree&apos;s 3rd grade play'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOrW8urcvpI/AAAAAAAABjo/LHG2co_Sptc/s72-c/Nov.%2B2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-9066801018488700609</id><published>2010-11-14T19:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T19:46:17.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living up to Her Name</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOCeUkLcbzI/AAAAAAAABjA/a17HAmC-yKY/s1600/P1060120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539601617811959602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOCeUkLcbzI/AAAAAAAABjA/a17HAmC-yKY/s400/P1060120.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sound asleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Did we name Oaklee right or is she, simply, living up to her name?  Hmmm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-9066801018488700609?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/9066801018488700609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=9066801018488700609&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9066801018488700609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9066801018488700609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/11/living-up-to-her-name.html' title='Living up to Her Name'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TOCeUkLcbzI/AAAAAAAABjA/a17HAmC-yKY/s72-c/P1060120.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4567215390605862205</id><published>2010-11-09T10:15:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T11:02:11.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heber City Cowboy Poetry, Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TNmCrvdDjOI/AAAAAAAABiw/6CRmbyPY8h4/s1600/Cowboy%2Bpoetry%2B015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537600904813055202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TNmCrvdDjOI/AAAAAAAABiw/6CRmbyPY8h4/s400/Cowboy%2Bpoetry%2B015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once again we spent a week end in Heber City at the cowboy poetry gathering there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This year we had another family from Loa come as well, the Lymans. They have 5 kids also. Nine out of the 10 kids all recited poems. It was a fun year. Yes Oaklee(2) even did a poem this year. Caib wrote a poem three years ago for Chance to do when he was two years old and Oaklee decided 2 days before we went that she needed to work on her poem, too. So every time the kids would run through their poems some one would go through that poem with her. It goes like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanna herd a cow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But Dad won't show me how.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Because I'm only two,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't know what to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I can hoop and Holler&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;While on my horse I follow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Caib Brian-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes, she had it memorized and she did an excellent job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Chancee's chattering&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I often feel a little bit of guilt when my kids come home with a spelling test and have only missed one or two words "ARG!!!!" I think, "If only I had taken a few minutes and gone over their words with them they could be getting hundred percents." The guilt only lasts until they come home with a hundred percent on their next pre-test allowing them to not have to take the final test. (brag, brag, brag)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so when I WAS feeling guilt I picked up Aubree's pre test and was reviewing some words with her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Naughty" says I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aubree: "N...A...U...G...H...T...Y."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chance: " nnnn, N..... augh augh augh, O.....dee dee dee, D, It's a short word, Aubree. N....O...D...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Luckily Aubree didn't have to flaunt her spelling skills and just laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and then.....&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537607943796567522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TNmJFdtgLeI/AAAAAAAABi4/PHpptQ_KSVg/s400/Nov.%2B2010%2B002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meet our new bird, "Daisy" yes, I know she's blue but 5 out of seven picked the name Daisy so that's HIS name (shhh don't tell it's a him) It took us from Orem to Nephi to finally agree on a name for uh..ahem...her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;None the less, Chance was NOT happy with the name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I want an awesome name for him. Daisy isn't an awesome name it's a pretty name, I don't like pretty names."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh well, I guess Reggie would have worked, too but we had the final vote and Daisy it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Amos likes having a buddy and Daisy seems to like Amos, too. until Amos starts acting a little hyper and then Daisy puts him in his place with a thump on the head and Amos calms down and they snuggle up to each other and "sing" together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4567215390605862205?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4567215390605862205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4567215390605862205&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4567215390605862205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4567215390605862205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/11/heber-city-cowboy-poetry-chancees.html' title='Heber City Cowboy Poetry, Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TNmCrvdDjOI/AAAAAAAABiw/6CRmbyPY8h4/s72-c/Cowboy%2Bpoetry%2B015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-9203041077503922520</id><published>2010-11-01T10:22:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T14:02:29.041-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hunting,Potty Training, Halloween, 'N Counter tops.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wr3NvQnI/AAAAAAAABio/tIrBzieq36s/s1600/Oct.+2010+279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wr3NvQnI/AAAAAAAABio/tIrBzieq36s/s400/Oct.+2010+279.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534625628431532658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's the Hunting, Braden got his but Caibs (which was A LOT bigger) got away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wrSUoRYI/AAAAAAAABig/wxLhOkHMGyc/s1600/Oct.+2010+266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wrSUoRYI/AAAAAAAABig/wxLhOkHMGyc/s400/Oct.+2010+266.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534625618528322946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's the Potty Training (It's not working very well)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wrA483DI/AAAAAAAABiY/vGEDaAxCooE/s1600/Oct.+2010+265.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wrA483DI/AAAAAAAABiY/vGEDaAxCooE/s400/Oct.+2010+265.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534625613848828978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Halloween dinner in a pumpkin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wqahIuEI/AAAAAAAABiQ/DrzhDnVxUjs/s1600/Oct.+2010+257.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wqahIuEI/AAAAAAAABiQ/DrzhDnVxUjs/s400/Oct.+2010+257.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534625603548395586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oaklee trying to decide what to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmyQKAOI/AAAAAAAABiI/GBGM4CiAHd0/s1600/Oct.+2010+271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmyQKAOI/AAAAAAAABiI/GBGM4CiAHd0/s400/Oct.+2010+271.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534620043642011874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aubree in her Puppy Costume the elementary always does a parade around the school block and all the parents sit get to come and watch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmrE-lWI/AAAAAAAABiA/0WtCmSOspOg/s1600/Oct.+2010+272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmrE-lWI/AAAAAAAABiA/0WtCmSOspOg/s400/Oct.+2010+272.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534620041716077922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Caib?  He actually dressed up as Indiana Jones he had a jacket hat whip and gun but he'd taken all that off and put on my costume.  I was an ape at the crossing guard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rlw88kGI/AAAAAAAABhw/HZKRNFXVSeA/s400/Oct.+2010+275.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534620026113134690" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oaklee trying out the ape mask&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmaB9soI/AAAAAAAABh4/RtAVTIeiVc4/s1600/Oct.+2010+280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rmaB9soI/AAAAAAAABh4/RtAVTIeiVc4/s400/Oct.+2010+280.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534620037140034178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And finally...Saturday night after we all finished trick or treating I got my new counter tops.  I really debated posting this because I think the pictures don't show how pretty they really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rlqL7loI/AAAAAAAABho/WrrmFSLsIz4/s1600/Oct.+2010+286.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7rlqL7loI/AAAAAAAABho/WrrmFSLsIz4/s400/Oct.+2010+286.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534620024296937090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And they REALLY don't show how &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;BIG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; they are. you're just going to have to come see them to get the whole effect.  they really are beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-9203041077503922520?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/9203041077503922520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=9203041077503922520&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9203041077503922520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9203041077503922520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/11/huntingpotty-training-halloween-n.html' title='Hunting,Potty Training, Halloween, &apos;N Counter tops.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TM7wr3NvQnI/AAAAAAAABio/tIrBzieq36s/s72-c/Oct.+2010+279.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5514710996865220111</id><published>2010-10-27T07:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T08:41:34.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE Country Living</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMgqUYsF_0I/AAAAAAAABhg/oRbyHKII4SA/s1600/Oct.+2010+254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532718671937797954" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMgqUYsF_0I/AAAAAAAABhg/oRbyHKII4SA/s400/Oct.+2010+254.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Look close!!  These are my two oldest boys heading out the door to school, Yes, school. and yes those are real rifles hanging from their shoulders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMgqUMF5tyI/AAAAAAAABhY/CaUoPh478MA/s1600/Oct.+2010+256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532718668556384034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMgqUMF5tyI/AAAAAAAABhY/CaUoPh478MA/s400/Oct.+2010+256.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I know, I know you're now excited to watch the news tonight, or maybe you'll just have to have the T.V. on all day to watch for the breaking news when the S.W.A.T. team shows up and a lock down is placed on the "small town" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Middle school&lt;/span&gt; in the middle of no where.  Oh, wait!! did I say small town.  did I mention that just about every boy in the middle school has a deer tag and probably the high school, as well.  And they all can hunt until Sunday, and yes there's some pretty good hunting from home to school.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, all right they can't keep their rifles in their lockers, and no they aren't heading for the bus where the native &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bus driver&lt;/span&gt; stops when she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sees&lt;/span&gt; the big one on the road, so that every kid can jump out of the bus, or maybe it would be easier if they all just dropped their windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me so mad that, though this is half way jesting, there are those people out there that are probably horrified that there's still a place where people and, heaven forbid, kids  are still trusted to be responsible. I could go on and on but I won't.  Just know that I'm extremely &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; in the freedoms that our country has lost but, still extremely &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for the freedoms that we still have.  "God bless America" and God bless those people who are still  allowing their children to learn how to defend Her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5514710996865220111?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5514710996865220111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5514710996865220111&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5514710996865220111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5514710996865220111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-love-country-living.html' title='I LOVE Country Living'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMgqUYsF_0I/AAAAAAAABhg/oRbyHKII4SA/s72-c/Oct.+2010+254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4165519553774775113</id><published>2010-10-25T09:39:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T10:40:19.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random, unsystematically, equally likely or Lacking regularity...you pick</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;So, I sat down at the computer you know.....checking emails, seeing if any one has blogged recently and suddenly I was seized with an uncontrollable desire to unsystematically blog something of no particular substance. I just felt like throwing to the public some pictures that I either like or think funny or, you know, whatever. At least that way when someone Else sits down at their computer like me this morning for the same purpose as me they'll have something to read and look at. so here goes................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532018448135905986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtd_wMYsI/AAAAAAAABhQ/cFn1ydJtuSA/s400/Oct.+2010+182.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This first one is of my intelligent and clever first son(put in just for him)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtddroiII/AAAAAAAABhI/uHY-UEevLsw/s1600/Oct.+2010+246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532018438989973634" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtddroiII/AAAAAAAABhI/uHY-UEevLsw/s400/Oct.+2010+246.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think that I will never get a picture of this child with out her wild, natural side coming out. Even if I do get her to leave her hair alone or her clothes on it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; last for more then a random second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtc60UGkI/AAAAAAAABhA/yOJV9v8m9s8/s1600/Oct.+2010+116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 251px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532018429631142466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtc60UGkI/AAAAAAAABhA/yOJV9v8m9s8/s400/Oct.+2010+116.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt;, Chance is on the saddle in front of him. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; is always is the one who looks out for the littler kids. when he's around I know that he'll make sure they get taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 296px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532018417137498402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtcMRmOSI/AAAAAAAABg4/q-8zsMS2v_0/s400/Oct.+2010+245.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and....this is also my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt;, teasing and joking, trying to pose with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4yviCOI/AAAAAAAABgQ/s99Pbha6xnY/s1600/September+2010+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532011211918543074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4yviCOI/AAAAAAAABgQ/s99Pbha6xnY/s400/September+2010+059.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Aubree is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee's&lt;/span&gt; opposite she loves beauty and drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4rsmBCI/AAAAAAAABgI/_RgUkme4tmQ/s1600/Oct.+2010+242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 322px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532011210027172898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4rsmBCI/AAAAAAAABgI/_RgUkme4tmQ/s400/Oct.+2010+242.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little Prairie girl, yes, that's a slip she's wearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4JPC77I/AAAAAAAABgA/J1EThIwNiKI/s1600/Oct.+2010+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532011200776433586" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm4JPC77I/AAAAAAAABgA/J1EThIwNiKI/s400/Oct.+2010+121.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I never tire of watching my cowboys work or taking pictures of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm38oTVCI/AAAAAAAABf4/y5GQAbh0OCQ/s1600/Oct.+2010+174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 235px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532011197392704546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWm38oTVCI/AAAAAAAABf4/y5GQAbh0OCQ/s400/Oct.+2010+174.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this was a quick one just before church that I hurried and took before the flower came out as well as the elastic band. She didn't even make it to her nursery class with her hair done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mischief&lt;/span&gt; in her eyes.&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4165519553774775113?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4165519553774775113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4165519553774775113&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4165519553774775113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4165519553774775113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/random-unsystematically-equally-likely.html' title='Random, unsystematically, equally likely or Lacking regularity...you pick'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMWtd_wMYsI/AAAAAAAABhQ/cFn1ydJtuSA/s72-c/Oct.+2010+182.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3856494190419718714</id><published>2010-10-21T15:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T16:34:58.760-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October Birthdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Braden and Chance were both born in the month of October. Braden was born on the first and Chance was born on the 21&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;st&lt;/span&gt; 9 years later. Braden turned 14 this year. It's hard to believe I still remember having such terrible  morning sickness with him.  I'd drag myself out of bed every morning puke, get dressed, puke, try to eat, puke go down to my sister, Laura's house puke, Lay on her couch and ask...."Will I ever like food again?"  Oh, how miserable and oh, how worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3MxDsePI/AAAAAAAABfw/5AS65539lwI/s1600/Oct.+2010+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530621772366117106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3MxDsePI/AAAAAAAABfw/5AS65539lwI/s400/Oct.+2010+006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, let me explain this wonderful cake, lest any of you think I am incapable of making something so absolutely um......round and white.  I made fondant for the first time ever in my life. I had a pumpkin or baseball in mind but that's as far as I got.  a nice round &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;balllish&lt;/span&gt; looking thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3MTz0uuI/AAAAAAAABfo/CzZlBvHYYc8/s1600/Oct.+2010+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530621764514921186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3MTz0uuI/AAAAAAAABfo/CzZlBvHYYc8/s400/Oct.+2010+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But, obviously we still had a blast!!  and we all decided that fondant might make cool looking cakes if you ever finish them, but they don't really taste very good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3L9CoKVI/AAAAAAAABfg/a8WKOAafDx8/s1600/Oct.+2010+178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530621758402996562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3L9CoKVI/AAAAAAAABfg/a8WKOAafDx8/s400/Oct.+2010+178.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So Chance picked out this campfire cake.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ahhhhh&lt;/span&gt;!!! the foolproof kind that are nearly impossible to mess up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3LoLFVcI/AAAAAAAABfY/e-Kb_fZ_q_s/s1600/Oct.+2010+179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530621752801318338" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3LoLFVcI/AAAAAAAABfY/e-Kb_fZ_q_s/s400/Oct.+2010+179.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He Loves it!! and that's really all that matters.  The day I went into labor with Chance was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; memorable.  It was the day the cows came home.  Aubree and I had gone out to dry valley to watch and help a little and a man stopped and wanted to take some picture he took one of me and it still amazes me to look at the picture he took and realize that I had a baby the next day. I think That was probably my easiest pregnancy; even though I worried more about having a live baby then ever before.  I'd miscarried three boys before we finally got our Chance.  What a great kid!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sure do love my October kids.  They love the fact that they were born &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; the deer hunt month and Braden loves the fact that if he ever has a birthday on Sunday he &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; to stay home and watch church on T.V.   Happy Birthday Boys!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3856494190419718714?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3856494190419718714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3856494190419718714&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3856494190419718714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3856494190419718714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-birthdays.html' title='October Birthdays'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TMC3MxDsePI/AAAAAAAABfw/5AS65539lwI/s72-c/Oct.+2010+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-198370223414594746</id><published>2010-10-19T09:46:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T10:48:12.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cows coming home and floors</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was kinda putting off blogging about my floors until they were completely done, but I love them sooo much that I thought I'd do a little sneak peak. I can't wait to get them finished, the doors in, and the base board done. oh and yeah, the cupboard fronts and countertops would be REAALLY nice, too. ah well. here a little there a litt&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529789663943216130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TL3CZrn2TAI/AAAAAAAABfI/IwXvP_cYZMw/s400/Oct.+2010+113.jpg" /&gt;Notice the clock.  We've been working on the floors when we get the chance, which is usually between 10:00 PM and Midnight&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529789674225514690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TL3CaR7VuMI/AAAAAAAABfQ/o1SliecVMmQ/s400/Oct.+2010+118.jpg" /&gt;                                                       And we got the cows home!! yay!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sprinklers are done for the year, DOUBLE YAY!!! I'm thinking we can focus, a lot, on finishing in the house now. It'll be so nice to get it all done.&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/6336248339197200150-198370223414594746?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/198370223414594746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=198370223414594746&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/198370223414594746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/198370223414594746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/cows-coming-home-and-floors.html' title='Cows coming home and floors'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TL3CZrn2TAI/AAAAAAAABfI/IwXvP_cYZMw/s72-c/Oct.+2010+113.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8108982003190745770</id><published>2010-10-16T09:46:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T15:05:22.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cows are Coming Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLnJORW4KbI/AAAAAAAABew/0xH7fWeB8vU/s1600/Oakee+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528671264588704178" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLnJORW4KbI/AAAAAAAABew/0xH7fWeB8vU/s400/Oakee+035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bringing the cows home last year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dear Jo,(a good friend of mine)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke Roger up at 6:00 so that he could wake the boys and they could go get the cows gathered and brought home. I had made their lunch last night so I wouldn't have to get up that early. Usually that wouldn't be a problem for me, But we'd been up till almost midnight putting flooring down. I'm not a night person, actually I'm not a person that can function well on less then 7 hours of sleep. Anyway, I lay in bed this morning drifting in and out of sleep as I listened to my boys getting ready to go gather the cows. I had been awake when Roger had quietly called down the stairs for the boys. It only took one call and then the sound I love the best began. a quiet scurrying, mingled with excitement to get out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished getting my 7 hours of sleep in, and then woke to the other children whispering as they tried not to wake me. We'll go out a bit later so the little kids can help bring the cows in from the govt. corrals to our corrals and I can take pictures and run errands. As I lay there in bed I couldn't help smiling at the memory of Roger calling to the boy's "Boys" he quietly calls from the top of the stairs, and then the excited scuffle, but there was something in his voice, a tender emotion that, possibly, only I could detect in that one word, "Boys".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this poem is very rough but, I thought you still might like to read it. I don't even know what its title is yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Boys” comes Dad’s voice from the dim light of the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;It’s still early in the morning and neither of them cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all are out of bed moving fast in the cool&lt;br /&gt;Air of the morning, they don’t have to go to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cows are coming home and they're aching for their saddle&lt;br /&gt;They’re heading to the mountain, it’s time to gather cattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter’s in the air though the fall has just begun&lt;br /&gt;And everyone is busy with so much that must be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days are growing shorter, and the cowboys must work fast&lt;br /&gt;To get ready for the winter, summer’s been here then it passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cows are coming home now; calves are ready to be sold&lt;br /&gt;Along with some dry ones and the cows that are too old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The season is a good one and the boys are helping out&lt;br /&gt;They’re quickly getting bigger, they’re strong; they look so stout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And their mother has a swelling as she watches while they grow.&lt;br /&gt;She feels it in her heart, but her boys seem to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They love to see her joy; they can feel it in her prayers&lt;br /&gt;And also in Dad’s voice from the dim light of the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd better hurry now to get stuff done and little ones ready to go help dad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8108982003190745770?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8108982003190745770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8108982003190745770&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8108982003190745770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8108982003190745770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/bringing-cows-home-last-year-dear-joa.html' title='The Cows are Coming Home'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLnJORW4KbI/AAAAAAAABew/0xH7fWeB8vU/s72-c/Oakee+035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4752700788160469216</id><published>2010-10-13T18:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T11:35:20.542-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLZUXJR1wRI/AAAAAAAABeo/dBA8fbKiJb8/s1600/seven+mile+fall+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527698349248332050" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLZUXJR1wRI/AAAAAAAABeo/dBA8fbKiJb8/s400/seven+mile+fall+027.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Autumn time. I love the colors, I love the brisk weather, I love the harvest, I love the angle of the sunlight, I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Autumn. I love being able to still send the kids out to play. I love the excitement when they come running back inside with colorful leafs, cold hands and noses, and rosy cheeks. I love it when they go outside barefoot and I open the door and yell, "Where are your shoes?" knowing darn good and well that I did the same thing as a kid and I loved it. I love the sound of Chainsaws it's a busy happy sound with great rewards when winter finally does come. I love watching the frost come in and seeing it sparkle when the sun comes up. And I LOVE the time change and we get to sleep in an hour longer. When is the time change, anyway? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So..... Chance and Oaklee were outside playing, with bare feet and glowing cheeks, in the sand box. I love standing at my new kitchen sink window and watching them play. I watched them as I prepared dinner and smiled that they were obviously having so much fun together. They were so involved in their game and It brought back childhood memories. For me Autumn is a time for reminiscing, too. It didn't last too long before they came running into the house filled with excitement and chilly hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance: "Mom, Mom, We were having SO much fun."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee: "Yeah, so much fun"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance: "We were playing Pirates"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee: " Yeah, Piwates"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance: "and we FOUND the lost TREASURE!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee: "yeah, Lost tweasure"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chance: " It was SO much FUN!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee: (Bouncing up and down with excitement) "Yeah, SO much FUN!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chancee's Chattering: (with loud sigh of contentment) "We were pretending to use our imagination"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oaklee: "yeah, magination"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4752700788160469216?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4752700788160469216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4752700788160469216&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4752700788160469216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4752700788160469216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLZUXJR1wRI/AAAAAAAABeo/dBA8fbKiJb8/s72-c/seven+mile+fall+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-9075135853937151772</id><published>2010-10-11T19:33:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T19:52:39.468-06:00</updated><title type='text'>cabinets......finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8_mp-XjI/AAAAAAAABeg/2i0-T-itBYk/s1600/Oct.+2010+106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526968968608112178" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8_mp-XjI/AAAAAAAABeg/2i0-T-itBYk/s400/Oct.+2010+106.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8_HeD70I/AAAAAAAABeY/C3YU4D7BBA8/s1600/Oct.+2010+105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526968960236646210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8_HeD70I/AAAAAAAABeY/C3YU4D7BBA8/s400/Oct.+2010+105.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm getting more and more anxious to get my house put back together. Last Friday and Saturday my cupboards got put in. I had a piece of cardboard that showed how the counter top would look on my Island but it was a template needed to cut out the counter top so my cabinet guy took it. but these pictures show a bit more. I have to admit that I can't believe how nice everything is turning out. I'm so impressed with how well the cabinets have been designed. Everyone told me that it would be well worth the wait to have this guy do them.  I believe they were right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526968955454016514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8-1pyzAI/AAAAAAAABeQ/YeE9UK2Jm5A/s400/Oct.+2010+103.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last Wednesday and Thursday we got bombarded with rain.  I literally had a waterfall in my house right down the new back door.  I called the guys that did my construction, they came and looked at it and told me when things dried out they would fix it.  the next day when it rained again even harder I was worried about it ruining my new kitchen ceiling and called Roger.  He came all the way home from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Richfield&lt;/span&gt;, 40 minutes away, fixed my roof and then went back to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Richfield&lt;/span&gt; to finish  working.  Just one of those things that makes me &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for my very own handyman!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-9075135853937151772?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/9075135853937151772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=9075135853937151772&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9075135853937151772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/9075135853937151772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/cabinetsfinally.html' title='cabinets......finally'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TLO8_mp-XjI/AAAAAAAABeg/2i0-T-itBYk/s72-c/Oct.+2010+106.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3446724440266919963</id><published>2010-10-05T11:44:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T13:45:36.290-06:00</updated><title type='text'>GRRR...........................in</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;15 years ago Roger took me up on the top of Boulder Mountain for the first time. We went out to Donkey Point and Looked out over our Beautiful home and he "proposed" to me. I parenthesized proposed because he was to nervous to actually propose but I knew....... I can still remember the feeling I had and the impact is obvious. so.....each year since then we have driven to the top of Boulder to enjoy the fall colors and be together. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt765yKAmI/AAAAAAAABeI/gKu4YJCVLvQ/s1600/Oct.+2010+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524645609237828514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt76SiK06I/AAAAAAAABeA/wGy0hx2ESr4/s400/Oct.+2010+092.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The top of boulder is just over 11,000 feet the trees grow very compact and rugged.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524645619773866594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt765yKAmI/AAAAAAAABeI/gKu4YJCVLvQ/s400/Oct.+2010+052.jpg" /&gt;Elbow Lake where we......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68yea3uI/AAAAAAAABd4/khuMBX80fLE/s1600/Oct.+2010+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644552660147938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68yea3uI/AAAAAAAABd4/khuMBX80fLE/s400/Oct.+2010+041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;skip rocks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68QmMoZI/AAAAAAAABdw/hNgecthpeZs/s1600/Oct.+2010+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644543565963666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68QmMoZI/AAAAAAAABdw/hNgecthpeZs/s400/Oct.+2010+043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stroll along the shore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68GwvYvI/AAAAAAAABdo/ktCKD_egFAs/s1600/Oct.+2010+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644540925829874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt68GwvYvI/AAAAAAAABdo/ktCKD_egFAs/s400/Oct.+2010+071.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take more family pictures &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GRRRR&lt;/span&gt;.......IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt67j-tG7I/AAAAAAAABdg/BMOZNt3Ay_k/s1600/Oct.+2010+089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644531589159858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt67j-tG7I/AAAAAAAABdg/BMOZNt3Ay_k/s400/Oct.+2010+089.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and Let &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Caib&lt;/span&gt; try his hand at photography.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm amazed that it's been 15 years! and except for a few wrinkles and fifteen pounds each and some sagging here and there we still look GREAT!! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GRRR&lt;/span&gt;.........IN, again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3446724440266919963?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3446724440266919963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3446724440266919963&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3446724440266919963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3446724440266919963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/10/grrrin.html' title='GRRR...........................in'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKt76SiK06I/AAAAAAAABeA/wGy0hx2ESr4/s72-c/Oct.+2010+092.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5903095771428046510</id><published>2010-09-27T16:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T17:11:40.054-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here a Little There a Little &amp; Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKEhQLYpGoI/AAAAAAAABdQ/OzrLnYtZozs/s1600/September+2010+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521731179950709378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKEhQLYpGoI/AAAAAAAABdQ/OzrLnYtZozs/s400/September+2010+080.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just notice the trim around the doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKEhPgDLLII/AAAAAAAABdI/bcwchl2PfGQ/s1600/September+2010+081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521731168317942914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKEhPgDLLII/AAAAAAAABdI/bcwchl2PfGQ/s400/September+2010+081.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every little bit makes things look better. I finally painted the trim on the doors. Next step is the cement work, next week hopefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yesterday we went over to the bishops house.  We always do a third Sunday get together( I know it was the fourth Sunday yesterday but last week was stake conference) with the bishopric families minus the bishopric.  They're at the church all day.  We do a quick lesson and then let the kids play for a little bit.  well, yesterday was not an extremely good day for Chance's head.  He fell off the swing and landed on his head. Then he and another little boy bonked heads and It was hard enough that tears were involved.  very shortly after that we headed home.  Chance whimpered the whole way home and as soon as we walked in the house decided that a drink of water would help his head feel better.  It did!!  after he took a drink I looked down at Chance and could see the "thinking look" appear on his face and sure enough, he looked up at me and said....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Mom,  When you take a drink does your heart get wet?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Of course it does." says I, and Chance bounces a way with his headache gone and his heart wet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-5903095771428046510?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5903095771428046510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5903095771428046510&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5903095771428046510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5903095771428046510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/here-little-there-little-chancees.html' title='Here a Little There a Little &amp; Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TKEhQLYpGoI/AAAAAAAABdQ/OzrLnYtZozs/s72-c/September+2010+080.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7160815693545941369</id><published>2010-09-25T10:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T10:47:29.159-06:00</updated><title type='text'>O.K. I'll quit painting for a few minutes and Blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got to go finish painting, but I thought I'd take just a second to blog what I've been painting ALL WEEK!!! What a job. I still have the edges left to do. I'm trying to avoid crown molding. I know my cabinets will hide a lot but I still want it to look good every where else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520891729300118482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lxuBTW9I/AAAAAAAABdA/Pbh83cC8KVk/s400/September+2010+073.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;An over all view  The table is there just simply for me to use, that is where the Island will be when this is all done.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lxbtn7kI/AAAAAAAABc4/_x8eWJ168kU/s1600/September+2010+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520891724385742402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lxbtn7kI/AAAAAAAABc4/_x8eWJ168kU/s400/September+2010+076.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Counter tops, cabinets, and floor.  The Cabinets and Countertops have been ordered I'm still deciding on counter tops but I'm thinking that is pretty much what they'll look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lwzptgVI/AAAAAAAABcw/89nrikyqPzk/s1600/September+2010+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520891713631912274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lwzptgVI/AAAAAAAABcw/89nrikyqPzk/s400/September+2010+079.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A closer view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping this will all start to move faster now that I have the painting mostly done.  The flooring will be here this week, hopefully, Roger and I are doing the floors ourself unless it's not to much to have it done.  We're tiling the bathroom/ laundry room and the mud room.  We picked a tile that will hide every thing from calf sh*@! to well.....mud!  It's actually very pretty considering:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go!!!  I'm Headed back in to the kitchen to paint some more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7160815693545941369?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7160815693545941369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7160815693545941369&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7160815693545941369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7160815693545941369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/ok-ill-quit-painting-for-few-minutes.html' title='O.K. I&apos;ll quit painting for a few minutes and Blog.'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TJ4lxuBTW9I/AAAAAAAABdA/Pbh83cC8KVk/s72-c/September+2010+073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3653348278301365626</id><published>2010-09-15T13:35:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T14:01:24.068-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Off To Montrose Colorado</title><content type='html'>I have "Why did I agree to this " moments but this Montrose Colorado trip is more of a "why did I agree to this" weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I allowed myself to be talked into going to a national Cowboy Poetry Rodeo In Montrose, CO. Come to find out Australia and Canada are involved this year, as well. It is a competition involving Cowboy poetry Writers and reciters. The Cowboy Poet who came up with the whole concept and turned it into a national event called me personally to invite me and my two oldest boys to come and compete this year. I think the only reason I consented was because last year he called and invited us as well. I turned him down last year. He pleaded and begged this year so now I'm having one of those moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..... We're going. We leave tomorrow. I have to admit I'm looking forward to the "mini Vacation" and I do enjoy cowboy poetry. I just am not to sure about getting up on stage myself and having to cleverly perform some of my poetry, enough so that it stays with the judges and is memorable to them. I think Caib and Braden will do well. Braden especially, he seems to have an easier time on stage then Caib. But I think once Caib learns to relax and allows himself to just be Caib, that he'll end up being a great entertainer. I absolutely love Caibs sense of humor. He's the type that can confuse people unless they listen closely and realize that he's joking. And he's an extremely quick thinker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, The best part about this is that when I get back the inside of my house will be ready to paint. So....Guess what I'll be doing next week. And then I'm doing the floors myself. Maybe I can get those done as well. Can you tell I'm getting anxious about getting things done. I'm sooo tired of living without a kitchen. I do believe it will be worth it but I Can't wait to get things back in order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3653348278301365626?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3653348278301365626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3653348278301365626&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3653348278301365626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3653348278301365626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/off-to-montrose-colorado.html' title='Off To Montrose Colorado'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6741818949846206716</id><published>2010-09-14T12:45:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T13:19:36.032-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Really Should Wait......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;..............The doors aren't painted yet. They finished with the facia today. It looks so good That I just can't help it. I had to post some more pictures. I'm thinking I'll paint the front doors themselves dark brown with the trim the same color as the Soffit. What do you think? I'm not very good at design stuff and color patterns but I think that those colors will look good. I've been looking at swatches. :0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516847060973914402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_HLCWCCSI/AAAAAAAABcg/FJUtUf9zSPs/s400/September+2010+068.jpg" /&gt;AView of the back. I'm Going to leave these doors the color they are. See, I really should have waited until I had it all cleaned up again. But the house looks so good I'm hoping you don't notice that. And yes we still need cement poured or decks built.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_F3EB9dFI/AAAAAAAABcY/Ph3Vv527fW0/s1600/September+2010+072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516845618317587538" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_F3EB9dFI/AAAAAAAABcY/Ph3Vv527fW0/s400/September+2010+072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See The scaffolding is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_F2nv9KmI/AAAAAAAABcQ/VSfUl7Arqqk/s1600/September+2010+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516845610725878370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_F2nv9KmI/AAAAAAAABcQ/VSfUl7Arqqk/s400/September+2010+071.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That Makes the biggest difference. I got so tired of mowing around that durn scaffolding.&lt;br /&gt;WELL, YAY!!!!! the outside work is done (except my part) Now if we can just get the inside done and I could get back to a normal life.......Well, as normal as we used to be, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only the house but I just noticed the sky in this picture. I'm sure it looks so brilliant because my house makes it look that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516847074210707906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_HLzp7ecI/AAAAAAAABco/yINppYe0IFY/s400/September+2010+064.jpg" /&gt;I was messing around with picture taking. My Oldest two boys and I have a cowboy poetry contest this weekend in Montrose Colorado. I kind of like the way this one looks. Maybe I can fool the judges into thinking I always wear a cowboy hat. ;)&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6741818949846206716?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6741818949846206716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6741818949846206716&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6741818949846206716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6741818949846206716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-really-should-wait.html' title='I Really Should Wait......'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI_HLCWCCSI/AAAAAAAABcg/FJUtUf9zSPs/s72-c/September+2010+068.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7823923029909359557</id><published>2010-09-12T18:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:28:58.874-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings and Another Family Picture Attempt</title><content type='html'>On the way to Richfield Friday night Chance asked me a pretty serious question.   I could tell he'd thought about it for awhile before he finally says: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, when I grow up and get big will you remember me when I was a kid?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Chance,  I may not remember any other kid when they get big, but I know that I'll never forget you as a kid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t8pkEi-I/AAAAAAAABbo/T1A310LtXbc/s1600/September+2010+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516186007315450850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t8pkEi-I/AAAAAAAABbo/T1A310LtXbc/s400/September+2010+041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One of the boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t8XAu2QI/AAAAAAAABbg/8hsCvkBqKc8/s1600/September+2010+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516186002335389954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t8XAu2QI/AAAAAAAABbg/8hsCvkBqKc8/s400/September+2010+043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; one of Dad and his daughters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t7i8YGcI/AAAAAAAABbY/ytLbGVM1q9E/s1600/September+2010+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516185988358478274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t7i8YGcI/AAAAAAAABbY/ytLbGVM1q9E/s400/September+2010+038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick one I snapped because I love spontaneous shots,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t6fhC8gI/AAAAAAAABbQ/ND57bG5qK_Y/s1600/September+2010+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516185970258670082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t6fhC8gI/AAAAAAAABbQ/ND57bG5qK_Y/s400/September+2010+036.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When the harvest is over where will we be??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&lt;u&gt; LOVE&lt;/u&gt; the hay fields when all the hay is bailed and it's waiting to be hauled.  Especially in the evening light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7823923029909359557?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7823923029909359557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7823923029909359557&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7823923029909359557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7823923029909359557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/chancees-chatterings-and-another-family.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings and Another Family Picture Attempt'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TI1t8pkEi-I/AAAAAAAABbo/T1A310LtXbc/s72-c/September+2010+041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4329617903103593671</id><published>2010-09-09T13:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T13:34:50.395-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Color Is......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1wk3R7RI/AAAAAAAABbA/asO_3fEHdH4/s1600/September+2010+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514998327337413906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1wk3R7RI/AAAAAAAABbA/asO_3fEHdH4/s400/September+2010+022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is it. my actual house with the actual colors.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1wG-3t0I/AAAAAAAABa4/2W49Xv8N0To/s1600/September+2010+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514998319316186946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1wG-3t0I/AAAAAAAABa4/2W49Xv8N0To/s400/September+2010+012.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, we are planning on painting the doors and they obviously haven't finished doing the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facia&lt;/span&gt;, but it's so close to being done.. HOORAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1vm7jGYI/AAAAAAAABaw/jzOGgpFfPdI/s1600/September+2010+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514998310712318338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1vm7jGYI/AAAAAAAABaw/jzOGgpFfPdI/s400/September+2010+018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;another angle of the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1vDiabiI/AAAAAAAABao/ZgDbq4PlGqA/s1600/September+2010+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514998301211651618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1vDiabiI/AAAAAAAABao/ZgDbq4PlGqA/s400/September+2010+021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the East side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1uvNAAeI/AAAAAAAABag/zHoIvxhrnuA/s1600/September+2010+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514998295753130466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1uvNAAeI/AAAAAAAABag/zHoIvxhrnuA/s400/September+2010+019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the Back,  they're still working on the west side of the back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait until they are finished and the scaffolding is gone.  I've had that scaffolding out there for a whole month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's funny too me how many people asked me what colors we'd chosen for our house. Do you realize how many different shades of colors there are. we weren't even sure what color's we'd chosen after we'd chosen them.  But... this is the final product.  I really, really like it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4329617903103593671?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4329617903103593671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4329617903103593671&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4329617903103593671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4329617903103593671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-color-is.html' title='And the Color Is......'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIk1wk3R7RI/AAAAAAAABbA/asO_3fEHdH4/s72-c/September+2010+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1912883078933249476</id><published>2010-09-07T19:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T21:19:18.805-06:00</updated><title type='text'>3 different angles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj2EMTFiI/AAAAAAAABaY/OY-ILELwKQM/s1600/September+2010+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514345311739516450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj2EMTFiI/AAAAAAAABaY/OY-ILELwKQM/s400/September+2010+003.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Standing in the mud room door looking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj1s_oVzI/AAAAAAAABaQ/OlqTJUMU0fA/s1600/September+2010+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514345305512367922" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj1s_oVzI/AAAAAAAABaQ/OlqTJUMU0fA/s400/September+2010+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; standing in the new dining room. The door on the left is the new office, the door next to it goes into the new laundry room complete with a bathroom(yeah!!) and the door next to the fridge is my new pantry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj1WTvLPI/AAAAAAAABaI/dsh8g7JD8ZU/s1600/September+2010+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514345299422686450" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj1WTvLPI/AAAAAAAABaI/dsh8g7JD8ZU/s400/September+2010+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing on my hearth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The stucco workers came today and worked on the soffit and facia and put the final coat on my windows.  They look nice!!  They should be finished with everything outside by the end of this week.  except for the cement work.  We're still waiting for a bid on that.  When they're done and have the scaffolding down I'll take a picture.  It'll look nicer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've spent a lot of time standing in the new kitchen trying to decide what shape to do my Island.  We have to be creative to get enough cupboard space.  It feels good to be getting closer to being done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1912883078933249476?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1912883078933249476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1912883078933249476&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1912883078933249476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1912883078933249476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/3-different-angles.html' title='3 different angles'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIbj2EMTFiI/AAAAAAAABaY/OY-ILELwKQM/s72-c/September+2010+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1089169204962420048</id><published>2010-09-02T13:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T14:21:00.076-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Irish Countryside, Sheep, Family Picture, &amp; Bailing hay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've had such a wet summer that the hills are beautiful. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512407775418192338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABqm7nEdI/AAAAAAAABZ4/X3L79r6gPpc/s400/August+2010+178.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This picture doesn't show how really green they look but it reminds me of the countryside in Ireland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABqF2GpTI/AAAAAAAABZw/dlZIjPf_ggc/s1600/August+2010+167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512407766536725810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABqF2GpTI/AAAAAAAABZw/dlZIjPf_ggc/s400/August+2010+167.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bringing the sheep off of Boulder Mountain this year was not a good experience! They went up last Saturday morning and didn't get home until Midnight. The sheep scattered, Caib was on a horse that didn't know a thing about herding and towards the end of the day she simply laid down and refused to go any further. They took Caib's saddle off of her and left both her and his saddle in Dark Valley and We had to go back up Sunday to get them. The boys had bets on whether or not the horse was even still alive. She was and when they found her she wasn't more then a hundred yards from Caib's saddle. Days like that are days that teach a lot. It was fun listening to the conversations that followed the experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABph_oHqI/AAAAAAAABZo/l108txoSTk4/s1600/August+2010+142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512407756912991906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABph_oHqI/AAAAAAAABZo/l108txoSTk4/s400/August+2010+142.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Sunday right near where we picked up Caib's saddle. I had my camera so I figured I would get a family picture. "Come on everyone, time for pictures"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABpHDTvuI/AAAAAAAABZg/M2KyAFtwB3I/s1600/August+2010+145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512407749680676578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABpHDTvuI/AAAAAAAABZg/M2KyAFtwB3I/s400/August+2010+145.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had one try (my battery was running low)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess we'll have to try again another time. I don't think I've laughed so hard at a picture as I laughed at this one. It looks like I lined us all up and yelled grunt!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh well, Pictures that make us laugh are usually the ones that keep the memories alive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512412638087189538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIAGFpyPlCI/AAAAAAAABaA/JiA-wONt8-Q/s400/school+014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I had a picture today of my first time bailing Hay. Yep that's right, I've been married to a farmer/rancher for fifteen years and this is the first time I've ever bailed.&lt;br /&gt;This picture is a picture of a tractor similar to the one I drove. My next goal is to drive the swather and cut hay.  I love to mow lawns, how different can it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6336248339197200150-1089169204962420048?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1089169204962420048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1089169204962420048&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1089169204962420048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1089169204962420048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/09/irish-countryside-sheep-family-picture.html' title='Irish Countryside, Sheep, Family Picture, &amp; Bailing hay'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TIABqm7nEdI/AAAAAAAABZ4/X3L79r6gPpc/s72-c/August+2010+178.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3734189516067777595</id><published>2010-08-26T09:18:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T09:39:24.683-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So This is What it's Like Raising Cowboys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THaF_Dh06_I/AAAAAAAABZY/u-c8CDwbsIE/s1600/August+2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509738512459820018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THaF_Dh06_I/AAAAAAAABZY/u-c8CDwbsIE/s400/August+2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have to admit I was a bit premature with my feelings of pride when I fixed this drawer.  For months it has had a wobbly front (If you pulled on the knob a little hard the whole drawer front would come off).  With three or four finishing nails poking out of it.  Part of me puts up with stuff like that just to see if the male population in the house will show a little manly skills and grab a hammer and glue and fix it with out being asked to fifty million times, silly me what was I thinking?. It never happened so I grabbed the glue and a hammer and headed to the bathroom yesterday morning. I pulled out all the nails pulled the drawer front off poured in a little to much glue slammed the front back on, with glue oozing a bit,  hammered the nails back in in new spots so that they would hold, and Voila!!  Nothing fancy but that drawer front wasn't going anywhere (&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;litterally&lt;/span&gt;).  I then shut the drawer, put the hammer away and went about my business.  This morning as kids rushed madly about getting ready for the first day of school, Caib asked me where his "orange deodorant" was.  I told him to check the bottom drawer in the bathroom.  He tried, really tried!! It wasn't opening he yanked, he pulled...Nothing.  Here's where the cowboy comes in.  He found a piece of rope, tied it to the handle wrapped the rope around his body and pulled for all he was worth.................Again, Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My excuse.....If the men in this house would do the little fix it jobs that are obviously an easy fix for men!! Then their wives wouldn't have to glue the drawers shut!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the kids off to school came home looked at the rope tied to the bathroom drawer and thought if Caib couldn't get his weight to open this drawer then surely I can.  He may be almost as tall as me but he doesn't out weigh me yet.  I grabbed the rope and pulled for all I was worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man!!! when I decide to fix something I sure do fix it.  When my construction workers get here I'm gonna ask if I can borrow one of their BIG crow bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I'll ask fifty million times and smile every time I open the drawer and the front comes off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3734189516067777595?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3734189516067777595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3734189516067777595&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3734189516067777595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3734189516067777595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-this-is-what-its-like-raising_26.html' title='So This is What it&apos;s Like Raising Cowboys'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THaF_Dh06_I/AAAAAAAABZY/u-c8CDwbsIE/s72-c/August+2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-5831817096507061904</id><published>2010-08-24T16:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T17:23:12.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THRMDRviMEI/AAAAAAAABZI/Bcn4cQifY_s/s1600/August+2010+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509111863367053378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THRMDRviMEI/AAAAAAAABZI/Bcn4cQifY_s/s400/August+2010+133.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you've never remodel it's quite an experience but you'll just never understand until you are right in the middle of it all. Today we  had the stucco people here. Yesterday we had my old kitchen floor jacked up and leveled out. They had to Jack it up over four inches to get it level. Right beneath my old kitchen is the fruit room. so the workers were going up and down the stairs and it took them most of the day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We went swimming yesterday so that Caib could finish his swimming merit badge and when we got home the workers were finished and had gone home. We weren't here when they glued and then nailed the new floorboards down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today I needed some things for dinner out of the fruit room I went down stairs to get them with Chance on my heels, as usual, When I opened the door I noticed the smell of the glue was a little bit strong. The light doesn't work in there. I had a flashlight so that I could find what I needed and stepped into the "cave" &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509119514384654082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THRTAoAR3wI/AAAAAAAABZQ/GZVJlbogaQc/s400/spring+snow+010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;u&gt;My fruit room door&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chance stepped in right behind me and started to sniff the air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"sniff...Sniff...Sniff Do I smell Spiders in here?" He asks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Hmmm" Says I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I do, Mom." he says "I hate spiders"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We quickly got what I needed and left the fruit room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm Sure glad Chance doesn't go to school for another year.  I'll hate to miss all his little chattering&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/6336248339197200150-5831817096507061904?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/5831817096507061904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=5831817096507061904&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5831817096507061904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/5831817096507061904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THRMDRviMEI/AAAAAAAABZI/Bcn4cQifY_s/s72-c/August+2010+133.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-1098627243074085256</id><published>2010-08-21T15:59:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T16:33:31.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Commanche</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;In Memory of Commanche &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPbcF2NLI/AAAAAAAABZA/lB8h_-dcrOs/s1600/violin+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 396px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507989677089895602" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPbcF2NLI/AAAAAAAABZA/lB8h_-dcrOs/s400/violin+075.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year herding cows teaching Chance how to ride&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPaiHZoXI/AAAAAAAABY4/YNcg6sWrp1U/s1600/seven+mile+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507989661527155058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPaiHZoXI/AAAAAAAABY4/YNcg6sWrp1U/s400/seven+mile+022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aubree and Commanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPZ9I-DzI/AAAAAAAABYw/g8G2W12-ijM/s1600/Caib.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 241px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507989651601624882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPZ9I-DzI/AAAAAAAABYw/g8G2W12-ijM/s400/Caib.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Commanche working the cows with Caib&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPZEK07sI/AAAAAAAABYo/sIhlqHyQLko/s1600/scan0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507989636308594370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPZEK07sI/AAAAAAAABYo/sIhlqHyQLko/s400/scan0010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Buck and Commanche on a quiet ride with their Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOO8njSXI/AAAAAAAABYg/S1gqwXnqWgA/s1600/violin+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507988362971269490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOO8njSXI/AAAAAAAABYg/S1gqwXnqWgA/s400/violin+059.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chance and Commanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOOYoHZkI/AAAAAAAABYY/fRHiaNs43ug/s1600/kids+086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507988353309959746" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOOYoHZkI/AAAAAAAABYY/fRHiaNs43ug/s400/kids+086.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Commanche with his last rider&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBONSkjb5I/AAAAAAAABYQ/ageQcZttiGg/s1600/seven+mile+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_5507988334504538002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBONSkjb5I/AAAAAAAABYQ/ageQcZttiGg/s400/seven+mile+007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caib and Commanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOM3bRG7I/AAAAAAAABYI/I5DNq__0wvs/s1600/2007-07-29+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_5507988327217830834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBOM3bRG7I/AAAAAAAABYI/I5DNq__0wvs/s400/2007-07-29+007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Commanche and Buck getting ready for a pleasure ride with Dad and Aubree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ol' Commanche spent his last few days on the mountain herding cows with Chance. He got a bellyache yesterday and they brought him down to see if they could help him but he didn't make it through the night.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday We spent the afternoon at a cowboy poetry competition. Caib's poem was all about Commanche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the day I hired on here at this old spread&lt;br /&gt;I was young, smart knew it all weren’t nothin’ for me to dread&lt;br /&gt;That lasted just about six or seven months before I learnt my place&lt;br /&gt;That old boss was tough as nails. He’d get right up into my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d tell me how it really was set me straight a time or two&lt;br /&gt;He slowly seemed to humble me. Ya might say I changed my view.&lt;br /&gt;What I hear them other cowboys kinda fight to ride me now&lt;br /&gt;Cause it’s been quite q few years I been here a pushin’ cows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And every spring I hear ‘em talk, just a fightin’ back and forth&lt;br /&gt;‘Bout who’s gonna ride old Commanche and how much they think I’m worth.&lt;br /&gt;Usually it’s the youngest one they throw up on my back&lt;br /&gt;And I sure don’t mind carryin’ the lightest one of the pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my job I know it well that’s what they’re feedin’ me for&lt;br /&gt;So I take the kid work real hard, it aint an easy chore!&lt;br /&gt;And through the summer off and on when it’s our turn to hit the slopes&lt;br /&gt;They saddle us up and we head out, me with the youngest cowpoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after goin’ out a time or two ridin’ all day long&lt;br /&gt;They’ll start out kind of easy like just talkin’ or singing a song&lt;br /&gt;Then them young cowpokes get cocky and they start to want to run&lt;br /&gt;Or think they can see a better way to get the herdin’ done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So they turn me this way and turn me that, it’s quite a chore to find&lt;br /&gt;A nice soft chunk of rockless land that’ll cushion their behind.&lt;br /&gt;Because I can only do so much before they just got to learn&lt;br /&gt;That there aint nothin’ smaller then a dime on which to turn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***********************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:::::::::::::::::::::: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poor Chance has been pretty sad about loosing Commanche But he was old and had lived a good life. We sure will miss our old reliable horse. I think he taught more grandkids to ride then any other horse grandpa has. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;goodbye Commanche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-1098627243074085256?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/1098627243074085256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=1098627243074085256&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1098627243074085256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/1098627243074085256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/commanche.html' title='Commanche'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/THBPbcF2NLI/AAAAAAAABZA/lB8h_-dcrOs/s72-c/violin+075.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-7052759738530705074</id><published>2010-08-17T17:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T20:25:01.688-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walls and Bathrooms</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGscjUIlq2I/AAAAAAAABYA/CboxDs0mVOQ/s1600/August+2010+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506526362416294754" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGscjUIlq2I/AAAAAAAABYA/CboxDs0mVOQ/s400/August+2010+012.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today walls went up.  Looks like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oaklee&lt;/span&gt; has this room figured out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGscjPaWDVI/AAAAAAAABX4/kztAAvMs0Zk/s1600/August+2010+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506526361148591442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGscjPaWDVI/AAAAAAAABX4/kztAAvMs0Zk/s400/August+2010+013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Too bad she isn't potty trained.. Maybe this new toilet will help. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-7052759738530705074?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/7052759738530705074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=7052759738530705074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7052759738530705074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/7052759738530705074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/walls-and-bathrooms.html' title='Walls and Bathrooms'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGscjUIlq2I/AAAAAAAABYA/CboxDs0mVOQ/s72-c/August+2010+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-6883580582183155291</id><published>2010-08-16T22:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T22:23:28.634-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Plumbing</title><content type='html'>I know it's fun to see pictures of progress but hey, It's the plumbing for crying out loud.  Take my word for it, the septic tank wasn't a pretty picture and the trench they dug in my yard was long and deep and tore up quite a bit of my lawn but the plumbing is done and now they can do the floors and the walls and things should start coming together.  I'll post pictures of walls and stuff like that.....Much more appealing if you ask me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-6883580582183155291?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/6883580582183155291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=6883580582183155291&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6883580582183155291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/6883580582183155291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/plumbing.html' title='Plumbing'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2193402514985154975</id><published>2010-08-11T17:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T17:22:39.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Behind Curtain #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGMuAsR7nJI/AAAAAAAABXw/6eVStrAa0lI/s1600/August+2010+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504293758998125714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGMuAsR7nJI/AAAAAAAABXw/6eVStrAa0lI/s400/August+2010+010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; HMMMM What could it be???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGMuADqUHVI/AAAAAAAABXo/Xlbu91jGvY4/s1600/August+2010+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504293748094541138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGMuADqUHVI/AAAAAAAABXo/Xlbu91jGvY4/s400/August+2010+011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not as much as there used to be.&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who know.....&lt;br /&gt;It took them all day long to get the wall out between my kitchen and living room and the picture just dosent show how much it opened things up.&lt;br /&gt;This is one project in this adventure of remodeling that, so far, I am completely satisfied with.  I Love roomy spaces.&lt;br /&gt;The curtain was about where the vaccuum is. The wall was right where the carpet meets the linoleum, the 2x4's in the back are half way into the garage.&lt;br /&gt;I guess if you want to see it you'll just have to come on down!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2193402514985154975?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2193402514985154975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2193402514985154975&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2193402514985154975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2193402514985154975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/whats-behind-curtain-1.html' title='What&apos;s Behind Curtain #1'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGMuAsR7nJI/AAAAAAAABXw/6eVStrAa0lI/s72-c/August+2010+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4362416954189181271</id><published>2010-08-09T19:10:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T19:38:51.437-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So This is What It's Like Raising Cowboys!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqCF6_zvI/AAAAAAAABXg/bSSO9HKIVbE/s1600/August+2010+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503585697572835058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqCF6_zvI/AAAAAAAABXg/bSSO9HKIVbE/s400/August+2010+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Remodeling has brought a few changes in my decor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes that is a saddle rack in my Living room right next to my french doors But, there's a couple of saddles missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503583065403545730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCno4U72II/AAAAAAAABXI/RyosspHJSjU/s400/August+2010+003.jpg" /&gt;Oh Hey, Look out back, there's one.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I walked past the french doors and stopped short for just a moment. Braden had decided that it was easier to bring the horse to the saddle then the saddle to the horse.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqBTsCrxI/AAAAAAAABXY/kAfRr8TIh2E/s1600/August+2010+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503585684088336146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqBTsCrxI/AAAAAAAABXY/kAfRr8TIh2E/s400/August+2010+007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It must have been easier, because Caib followed suit.&lt;br /&gt;(Notice the green cast on the back of the horse near the saddle horn.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqA5W4wbI/AAAAAAAABXQ/-R5wKKFp36k/s1600/August+2010+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503585677020283314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqA5W4wbI/AAAAAAAABXQ/-R5wKKFp36k/s400/August+2010+009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh the joys of raising cowboys!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4362416954189181271?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4362416954189181271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4362416954189181271&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4362416954189181271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4362416954189181271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-this-is-what-its-like-raising.html' title='So This is What It&apos;s Like Raising Cowboys!'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TGCqCF6_zvI/AAAAAAAABXg/bSSO9HKIVbE/s72-c/August+2010+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8065375185294074799</id><published>2010-08-05T09:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T09:41:49.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Windows</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;they finished taking out a wall and put in two windows. This is the..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFraJwjtVXI/AAAAAAAABXA/mjk2hRioiOQ/s1600/july+2010+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501949755974833522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFraJwjtVXI/AAAAAAAABXA/mjk2hRioiOQ/s400/july+2010+044.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; North facing, and....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFraJQp32JI/AAAAAAAABW4/bfCJAMJXLXc/s1600/july+2010+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501949747410753682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFraJQp32JI/AAAAAAAABW4/bfCJAMJXLXc/s400/july+2010+043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the South facing where the garage door used to be.&lt;br /&gt;We still have three windows left to put in and three doors. That'll happen next Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;Funny how it seems you always have to wait on people. (Don't people know how important I am?;))&lt;br /&gt;The Plumber won't be here until tomorrow and the heating guy will be here Monday. Then they can put in the floor and walls. What a process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8065375185294074799?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8065375185294074799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8065375185294074799&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8065375185294074799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8065375185294074799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/windows.html' title='Windows'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFraJwjtVXI/AAAAAAAABXA/mjk2hRioiOQ/s72-c/july+2010+044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-3555389090760761014</id><published>2010-08-03T17:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T18:17:37.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Remodeling update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFiq868fPCI/AAAAAAAABWw/ds2ZC10sm7s/s1600/july+2010+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501334908424895522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFiq868fPCI/AAAAAAAABWw/ds2ZC10sm7s/s400/july+2010+042.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You Know, I've had a bazillion people tell me that this will all be worth it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I can tell you I have been extremely impressed with my "Builders"( Chancee's term) They are clean as they work, they make sure I know what's happening when, and they are fast!!!!It's really nice.  I've had a fun day today living on the other side of this plastic listening to them as they tore the wall out.  The comments about this house and what they've found hidden in the walls have been humorous. I'll tell you what, Grandma was "green" She recycled all kinds of things in her walls, old magazines for sheet rock, Plastic grocery bags for insulation, etc.  So why are they pushing this "green" thing so much when it doesn't even meet code?  This world is a bit screwy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFiq8TWum8I/AAAAAAAABWo/xkxEofzOfKA/s1600/july+2010+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501334897797536706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFiq8TWum8I/AAAAAAAABWo/xkxEofzOfKA/s400/july+2010+041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the other side of the plastic sheet, this is what they've done.  The windows will be here tomorrow as well as the electrician and the plumber.  We're also having a new septic system put in.  I was told that they wouldn't let the electrician or plumber leave with out finishing the job so that they could get everything finished up with in the next two weeks.  It'll be amazing to see.&lt;br /&gt;Now here something else amazing.  I just had Mike bring dinner over.  He made some chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy.  What a brother, what a guy!! who needs Relief Society? I'm kidding. &lt;br /&gt;Let's just hope  in a month when everything is finished, but my kitchen cabinets, that I'll still be sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-3555389090760761014?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/3555389090760761014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=3555389090760761014&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3555389090760761014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/3555389090760761014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/remodeling-update.html' title='Remodeling update'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFiq868fPCI/AAAAAAAABWw/ds2ZC10sm7s/s72-c/july+2010+042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-4130379295262329997</id><published>2010-08-01T18:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T18:47:32.430-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Remodling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFYSl9ExWUI/AAAAAAAABWg/yVE2DVA70a4/s1600/july+2010+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500604438138673474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFYSl9ExWUI/AAAAAAAABWg/yVE2DVA70a4/s400/july+2010+037.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, we've started.  Three days of work and already we've changed things.  The door and most of  the wall you can see is going to come out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFYSld2kFVI/AAAAAAAABWY/rrrmEGcdcjQ/s1600/july+2010+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500604429757584722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFYSld2kFVI/AAAAAAAABWY/rrrmEGcdcjQ/s400/july+2010+036.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But,  Here we go.  I'm thinking that this is an experience that will be a one of a kind for us.  hopefully!!&lt;br /&gt;The plumber will be here tomorrow as well as the stucco people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you all up on our progress. &lt;br /&gt;If I could figure out how to do it I would post a picture of the floor plans for everyone to give me suggestions.  I'm not sure how I'm going to do the counters, cabinets etc.  I don't think I realized that this was going to be quite so complicated.  (for me not Roger) Roger thinks is all so simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's so hard about it?" Says he " The bathroom goes there, the laundry there, and the kitchen right there.  Pretty simple if you ask me" &lt;br /&gt;It sure is good we balance each other out so well. &lt;br /&gt;I can do all the worrying and he can do all the quit worryings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-4130379295262329997?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/4130379295262329997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=4130379295262329997&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4130379295262329997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/4130379295262329997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/08/remodling.html' title='Remodling'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TFYSl9ExWUI/AAAAAAAABWg/yVE2DVA70a4/s72-c/july+2010+037.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-8641345999340743103</id><published>2010-07-27T22:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T22:42:04.003-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TE-wV8Z5c3I/AAAAAAAABWQ/fUs_whj7X7I/s1600/july+2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498807561081156466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TE-wV8Z5c3I/AAAAAAAABWQ/fUs_whj7X7I/s400/july+2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The three oldest boy's are at scout camp this week. The oldest being Dad. SO as you can imagine, with Dad out of the house dinner time is almost non existent for a few day's.  But when 6:00 pm rolled around we were hungry and since I needed a few things at the store anyway.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, we're walking down the isle at the store, me pushing the cart with Oaklee inside and Aubree and Chance walking along side....Oh alright Aubree was walking along side Chance was bouncing along side, riding underneath, running along side etc.  at one point he runs up ahead to see the big blown up cow above the milk section that has been in the store since before he was born.  As he comes running back towards the basket he misjudged the speed at which he returned and jumped on to the end of the basket, banging into it a little hard.  With a grunt he flings his hand over his heart and says,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Whoa, I just about broke my brain!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"uh Chance" says I, "First of all that is not where your brain is.  Your brain is in your head. That is where your heart is and you didn't run into the basket hard enough to break it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh" says Chance, and with no hesitation at all he states, "Well, then I almost cracked my heart."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then the eyes, the big, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BIG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;eyes and I just LOVE living with this kid.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miscarried three boys before he came along and I have a feeling it was this kid trying to come all three times.  He must have been SO excited for this life and experience that he just kept trying to sneak out of heaven before it was his turn to go.   His personality confirms it.  He loves life!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(side note) for those interested, My remodeling is starting tomorrow  Hopefully it'll be fairly quick and not to inconvenient.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-8641345999340743103?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/8641345999340743103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=8641345999340743103&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8641345999340743103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/8641345999340743103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/07/chancees-chatterings.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TE-wV8Z5c3I/AAAAAAAABWQ/fUs_whj7X7I/s72-c/july+2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336248339197200150.post-2482431031435122542</id><published>2010-07-17T08:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T09:09:31.881-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancee's Chatterings/ This is What it's Like Raising Cowboys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TEHDQj_2gqI/AAAAAAAABWI/CIEs2egoWpA/s1600/violin+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494887709677093538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TEHDQj_2gqI/AAAAAAAABWI/CIEs2egoWpA/s400/violin+054.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are times that raising cowboys comes in handy if you can get your kids thinking that cowboys are pretty much perfect. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've used this one on all my boys:   Chance was mad at Oaklee because she was doing two year old things and he was being the typical four year old.   There was hitting, grabbing, and pulling "my toy" away from each other involved.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Chance," says I, "You are not a real cowboy if you are mean to girls, even your sister.  Real cowboys are NOT mean to girls.  They always treat them gently and are very polite."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It didn't work, I still had to pull the two apart and put the toy on the fridge.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BUT,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Later that day we were outside helping a friend build her shed we were all working pretty hard cutting beams and putting them up, it was hot,  we were just about finished when Chance came running up to me and yelled&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MOM!, Mom, guess what I'm almost a real cowboy I just drank out of Braden's hat and it tasted REALLY good!!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;my first thought was OH GROSS!! Hats are like dirty socks to me UHGGG!. But my reply was: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"wow  Chance, you sure are"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chance: (with a big ol grin) That's what Braden told me, that cowboys always drink out of their hats! I am almost a real cowboy, Huh Mom?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I look forward to the day that Chance comes running excitedly up to me and says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"MOM MOM,guess what I'm almost a real cowboy I was nice to my sister and I shared my toys with her!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've got a feeling it's gonna be really soon, really &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; soon!! &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6336248339197200150-2482431031435122542?l=cattlekids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/feeds/2482431031435122542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6336248339197200150&amp;postID=2482431031435122542&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2482431031435122542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6336248339197200150/posts/default/2482431031435122542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cattlekids.blogspot.com/2010/07/chancees-chatterings-this-is-what-its.html' title='Chancee&apos;s Chatterings/ This is What it&apos;s Like Raising Cowboys'/><author><name>Cowboy mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503964361190816955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D57kyoyEsro/Tl2q4Si0IyI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/7DKFCdtqBo0/s220/SAM_4251.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tqKXx-ZMzTc/TEHDQj_2gqI/AAAAAAAABWI/CIEs2egoWpA/s72-c/violin+054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
