<?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-11763416</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:34:25.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eleanorgasteyer</title><subtitle type='html'>The smallest whirl, a ripple...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-9149729970237745115</id><published>2009-09-09T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T21:56:22.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>transported.</title><content type='html'>i've been feeling stuck for awhile now....but today i learned something.  raising little girls does not mean that i have to confine myself to the house and do laundry, sweep, wipe pee off the floor and yell because they are keeping me from doing all of the above.  i CAN break free from the routine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we went on a drive.(in the buick with all it's cracks, rips and rust and the new 'no farms no food' sticker).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stopped when we got tired, hungry, etc. etc.  and on more than one occasion i was someplace that i'd never been before...and that felt SO good.  it's incredible what a change of scenery can do and i'm certain there are a number of still frames in my mind that will stay forever in my memory.  have you ever been to peterson?  or on deep river rd?  221st ave., wykoff?  i recommend any and all of the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-9149729970237745115?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/9149729970237745115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=9149729970237745115' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/9149729970237745115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/9149729970237745115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2009/09/transported.html' title='transported.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-7554872721698828503</id><published>2009-04-29T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T08:35:32.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>currently listening to....</title><content type='html'>....&lt;a href="http://www.craftsanity.com"&gt;Craft Sanity&lt;/a&gt; ...and loving it!  This is Jennifer Ackerman-Haywood's podcast/blog, and is full of inspiration, humor and sincerity.  A great way to pass the time while folding laundry in a home with no television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been listening to the birds a lot, while fighting with the overgrown bushes in front of the house.  I've suceeded in pulling them all out now, and am so anxious to get some native plants in the ground that will add some beauty to our home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a further gardening note, I've decided to turn a large area of the front yard into my vegetable garden.  After spending too much time contemplating which part of the backyard play space I was willing to sacrifice for this venture, it struck me that we don't use the front yard for anything, and it's the ideal sunny spot to grow our food!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's going on in your gardens?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-7554872721698828503?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/7554872721698828503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=7554872721698828503' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7554872721698828503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7554872721698828503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2009/04/currently-listening-to.html' title='currently listening to....'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-4868054708483367148</id><published>2009-03-13T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T08:01:51.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>whole food</title><content type='html'>check out my little 'i heart natural food' addition!  this engine makes it so much easier to find recipes that use local, organic, and whole foods, and is my new best friend when dinner time rolls around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in regards to food, have you heard of this amazing book? &lt;a href="http://www.artisanbreadinfive.com"&gt;Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day&lt;/a&gt; it's true.  it really only takes five mintues, and the results are amazing.  we have had fresh bread on our dinner table all week long!  yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Sbp07neiY3I/AAAAAAAAARA/s5PohuYLkoY/s1600-h/IMG_0799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Sbp07neiY3I/AAAAAAAAARA/s5PohuYLkoY/s320/IMG_0799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312687277995090802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-4868054708483367148?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4868054708483367148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=4868054708483367148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4868054708483367148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4868054708483367148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2009/03/whole-food.html' title='whole food'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Sbp07neiY3I/AAAAAAAAARA/s5PohuYLkoY/s72-c/IMG_0799.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-4217345129791094515</id><published>2009-03-12T06:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T07:26:13.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a space to call my own.</title><content type='html'>a friend recently gave me some really good advice. 'do something that can't be undone every day.' it really got me to thinking that it's a bit of a tragedy that i live in this house and don't have a square foot that's just for me....for the things that i don't want undone. i spend so much time reorganizing thelma's art supplies, why don't i do this for myself? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i did. and i am thrilled with what i came up with. this is the little nook at the top of our stairs. most of the floor is thelma's bedroom, but i have now claimed this little space. our activity yesterday (in lieu of chit chat club!)...was painting the walls! i found a pint of paint in the shop that i had picked out for the kitchen, and delip thought it was too blue. so, i used it here. thelma did (most of) the rolling all by herself! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVuIvye2I/AAAAAAAAAQo/UqCfvZiNS84/s1600-h/IMG_0715.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVuIvye2I/AAAAAAAAAQo/UqCfvZiNS84/s320/IMG_0715.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312301117826300770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love yarn...the colors, textures, all of the fibers working together to create something beautiful. OK, not always beautiful, but not easily undone! i couldn't resist the urge to arrange my stash into this rainbow of wool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVvAd1sxI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/c2SJFf1Qhz0/s1600-h/IMG_0725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVvAd1sxI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/c2SJFf1Qhz0/s320/IMG_0725.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312301132783399698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this sewing machine was given to me by my grandma florence, who passed away last spring. i think it probably dates to the 1960's, and still works like a charm. i've only recently begun to take sewing seriously, but am looking forward to the day when the built-in cupboards in my space will be home to piles and piles of fabric. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVug_rD4I/AAAAAAAAAQw/DeG2tDPekUU/s1600-h/IMG_0717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVug_rD4I/AAAAAAAAAQw/DeG2tDPekUU/s320/IMG_0717.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312301124335374210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only thing missing?  YOU.  come over anytime and we can drink coffee and tea and create something together...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-4217345129791094515?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4217345129791094515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=4217345129791094515' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4217345129791094515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4217345129791094515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2009/03/space-to-call-my-own.html' title='a space to call my own.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SbkVuIvye2I/AAAAAAAAAQo/UqCfvZiNS84/s72-c/IMG_0715.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-758996379283463097</id><published>2008-11-05T20:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T20:44:32.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1uUxLI0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/FAZmWPIUSRA/s1600-h/IMG_0900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1uUxLI0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/FAZmWPIUSRA/s320/IMG_0900.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265400353058923330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1u_KxOcI/AAAAAAAAALY/zfrTSyaTj0Q/s1600-h/IMG_0909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1u_KxOcI/AAAAAAAAALY/zfrTSyaTj0Q/s320/IMG_0909.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265400364440566210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1vRamw8I/AAAAAAAAALg/8ZgK5aKbyWI/s1600-h/IMG_0988.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1vRamw8I/AAAAAAAAALg/8ZgK5aKbyWI/s320/IMG_0988.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265400369338827714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-758996379283463097?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/758996379283463097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=758996379283463097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/758996379283463097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/758996379283463097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/11/pumpkins.html' title='pumpkins'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJ1uUxLI0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/FAZmWPIUSRA/s72-c/IMG_0900.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-1646227906883365842</id><published>2008-11-05T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T20:37:51.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oxbow log cabin</title><content type='html'>Thelma wants to live here...it is apparently her idea of a "dream house"! Which translates to: tons of room to run, fresh air to breathe, and river otters in the zoo across the street that could entertain you for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJvV3IJv0I/AAAAAAAAALI/aOiICiLvqyM/s1600-h/IMG_0781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265393335715610434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJvV3IJv0I/AAAAAAAAALI/aOiICiLvqyM/s320/IMG_0781.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/11763416-1646227906883365842?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/1646227906883365842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=1646227906883365842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/1646227906883365842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/1646227906883365842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/11/oxbow-log-cabin.html' title='oxbow log cabin'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SRJvV3IJv0I/AAAAAAAAALI/aOiICiLvqyM/s72-c/IMG_0781.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-3868456701670035607</id><published>2008-11-05T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T20:06:40.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the will to blog...</title><content type='html'>...i might just be regaining it.  until 10 pm last night, i had no idea how much weight i'd been carrying around on my shoulders for the last 8 years.  its gone now.  and in its place...HOPE!  so, a fresh start, dear friends.  if you haven'y given up on my blog completely, then stay-tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-3868456701670035607?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/3868456701670035607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=3868456701670035607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3868456701670035607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3868456701670035607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/11/will-to-blog.html' title='the will to blog...'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8152002114652115633</id><published>2008-05-04T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T18:16:14.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.edinarealty.com/Listing/ListingDetail.aspx?Listing=30726484&amp;amp;Image=1"&gt;http://www.edinarealty.com/Listing/ListingDetail.aspx?Listing=30726484&amp;amp;Image=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8152002114652115633?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8152002114652115633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8152002114652115633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8152002114652115633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8152002114652115633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/05/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-5231497526863433852</id><published>2008-05-01T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T09:59:15.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grandma flo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SBtHWrH-F5I/AAAAAAAAALA/ZfoiHK5_G3s/s1600-h/IMG_0226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195825049960847250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SBtHWrH-F5I/AAAAAAAAALA/ZfoiHK5_G3s/s320/IMG_0226.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it has been almost a week since she passed away, and i still don't really feel like sitting down and writing about it...but i don't trust my memory, and there are things that she said that i want to write down before i forget. it seems i have a very good memory when it comes to useless information, and it all goes to shit when there's something that matters.&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;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i should feel lucky, because it all happened so fast....even faster than with my grandpa. i was pregnant with thelma when he died. so, here i am again....pregnant, and dealing with the loss of another.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my grandma was second to oldest of 11, and the first one to die. all of her brothers and sisters were in lima, wis. for the funeral on tuesday. she gave birth to 10 children, and is survived by 26 grandchildren, 31 2/3 great-grandchildren, and 6 great-great grandchildren. her cup was always over-flowing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;she was 16 when she met my grandpa and got pregnant. that's why they "had" to get married. didn't keep her from being married 66 years and it certainly didn't keep her from getting into heaven. her first and fifth children share the same birthday. they are exactly 5 years apart. she was busy. there's one particular picture of she and grandpa and those first 5 sitting out in the yard that i stared at for a really long time on monday night. she would have been 22 and he, 29. she looks 22....so SO young. and breath-takingly beautiful, surrounded by all those little ones. those were the days when they were still working the family farm in lima, before they sold it and moved to the house in town at 619 W Prospect St. (incidentally, that house is for sale right now...for $94,000. seems a small price to pay for the house my dad grew up in.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think she stopped cooking once all the kids were grown up and moved out of the house. i only remember being at her house one time when she was using the stove, and she was cooking liver and onions. i was probably around 10. her oven has since served as storage for paper plates, extra napkins, and whatever else she couldn't find a place for in the cupboards. the microwave served a similar function. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;she saved everything...and knew just where everything came from and why she was saving it. (i inherited this from her, much to my mom's dismay. i used to save gum wrappers when i was a kid because they smelled good and i might want to re-live that smell later, after the gum was long gone.) a box of things she had set aside for my dad had two such peculiarities inside it. one was a tiny brochure boasting the incredible results of oil of olay beauty solution that i would guess dated back to at least the 1960's. the other was a tiny newspaper clipping giving women advice on how to tone up their lower abdomen after the birth of a child. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my grandma had this amazing way of journaling, a system of record-keeping that not too many families would be so lucky to have. she wrote all over everything....calenders, books, cards, boxes. if you were to go through the piles of things at her house right now, you would be able to learn anything you possibly needed to know about the Brunner family. as an example, i'm going to use a toy that she passed on to thelma the last time we were at her house...i think it was in the fall after we finished raking her yard. its one of those little playskool wagons that has blocks of all different shapes, sizes and colors that fit inside it. what i can make out to be the first note on its original box says "Purchased Christmas of 1965, when at 619 W. Prospect". "Please do not give the box to the child!" on one end..."OPen Here". the other end is taped shut and says "I taped shut". "12/1987 Please Adults take out the wagon and give to child." "p.s. This box keeps wagon and blocks together (no blocks lost to date)" "Nov. '92 all pcs. still here" "We got these for grand kids at christmas 1965 at 619 W. Prospect, Durand, Wi." "2006-1965=41 years. Oct. all pcs. here yet." this is just what's on a box of blocks, people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i got to visit her last wednesday. i was lucky that she was still somewhat alert when i arrived at the hospital. i took her hand in mine and told her i was there. she opened her eyes and said, "i love you so much. i've been waiting for you." her sons and daughters happened to be holding a family meeting to decide what to do next, so i got to sit and hold her hand and be still. it didn't seem to matter so much that we were sitting in a hospital room...it was peaceful. i will forever cherish the memory of her...Florence M. K. Brunner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-5231497526863433852?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/5231497526863433852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=5231497526863433852' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5231497526863433852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5231497526863433852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/05/grandma-flo.html' title='grandma flo.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/SBtHWrH-F5I/AAAAAAAAALA/ZfoiHK5_G3s/s72-c/IMG_0226.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6770276140360630629</id><published>2008-04-03T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T09:10:09.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_UAnf-oi2I/AAAAAAAAAKw/ubeSDcq-pJA/s1600-h/IMG_2992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185051224586095458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_UAnf-oi2I/AAAAAAAAAKw/ubeSDcq-pJA/s320/IMG_2992.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_UAoP-oi3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/Oshj1wtF2IU/s1600-h/IMG_3019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185051237470997362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_UAoP-oi3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/Oshj1wtF2IU/s320/IMG_3019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_gP-oixI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PjDguJ-ktJY/s1600-h/IMG_2821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185050000520416018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_gP-oixI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PjDguJ-ktJY/s320/IMG_2821.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_gv-oiyI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MInnU0Eb1Es/s1600-h/IMG_2849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185050009110350626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_gv-oiyI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MInnU0Eb1Es/s320/IMG_2849.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_hP-oizI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TJasEMRnPqM/s1600-h/IMG_2887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185050017700285234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_hP-oizI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TJasEMRnPqM/s320/IMG_2887.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_hf-oi0I/AAAAAAAAAKg/lTqlxzk3xAI/s1600-h/IMG_2911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185050021995252546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_hf-oi0I/AAAAAAAAAKg/lTqlxzk3xAI/s320/IMG_2911.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_h_-oi1I/AAAAAAAAAKo/uQL224qPJ_k/s1600-h/IMG_2920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185050030585187154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_T_h_-oi1I/AAAAAAAAAKo/uQL224qPJ_k/s320/IMG_2920.JPG" border="0" /&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/11763416-6770276140360630629?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6770276140360630629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6770276140360630629' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6770276140360630629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6770276140360630629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R_UAnf-oi2I/AAAAAAAAAKw/ubeSDcq-pJA/s72-c/IMG_2992.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-3450579382181204804</id><published>2008-03-27T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T10:59:50.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>days numbered in fruit.</title><content type='html'>I love oranges. We brought back a huge bag from Florida and now there are only two left. I don't know what I'm going to do when they're gone. I'm currently reading Barbara Kingsolver's &lt;a href="http://animalvegetablemiracle.com/"&gt;"Animal, Vegetable, Miracle"&lt;/a&gt;, and am finding myself more and more inspired to fully commit to being a locavore. (Locavore, by the way, just happens to have been the Oxford Word of the Year in 2007!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma Thelma loves to tell the story about the one birthday party she had as a child. The one, at least, where she got to have friends come to celebrate with her....and they brought her presents. She was around 10 years old, and still remembers the first and last names of all three girls who attended. Two of the three gifts were memorable as well; one, an apple and the other, an orange. Obtaining an orange in Wisconsin was almost unheard of back then, making it a very indulgent birthday gift. My grandma's birthday is in April, so even the apple was out of season and must have traveled many miles to get to her. Grandma Thelma turns 80 years old this April.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How, in a matter of 70 years, did we get from oranges being so exquisite as to warrant gift-ability, to not giving second thought to tossing one into our shopping carts on any given day of the year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, the rolling hills of this frozen tundra I live in will turn green. Will my tongue forget about oranges when the year's first asparagus makes its appearance? Will the molly mooch be enough to distract me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steven L. Hopp makes this claim..."If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country’s oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week." Barrels! Not just gallons...BARRELS! Of course, that's not even the half of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two more oranges, folks. Two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-3450579382181204804?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/3450579382181204804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=3450579382181204804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3450579382181204804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3450579382181204804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/03/days-numbered-in-fruit.html' title='days numbered in fruit.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-7132620526899480689</id><published>2008-03-19T19:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T20:05:44.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sand in our toes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R-HRM_-oiwI/AAAAAAAAAKA/-SKVWQg3zAE/s1600-h/n554555514_2526792_6291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179651067715554050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R-HRM_-oiwI/AAAAAAAAAKA/-SKVWQg3zAE/s320/n554555514_2526792_6291.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a full week of sun and sand, we are home. Take note. This is the first time I have called this place "home". It's the first time its felt that way. Thelma and I went on a treasure hunt this afternoon in search of anything alive creeping out of the dirt. Sure enough, we found signs of life all over the yard! I see now that I haven't given this place a fair chance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The tulips and crocuses aren't the only sign of life I've been noticing lately. This next addition to our family seems to move in my womb constantly. I'm slightly concerned that its going to come into this world thinking that sleep is an unnecessary vice. For now, I love the movement....the constant reminder that very soon I will have a babe at my breast again.&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/11763416-7132620526899480689?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/7132620526899480689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=7132620526899480689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7132620526899480689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7132620526899480689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/03/sand-in-our-toes.html' title='sand in our toes.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R-HRM_-oiwI/AAAAAAAAAKA/-SKVWQg3zAE/s72-c/n554555514_2526792_6291.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6530002562637495351</id><published>2008-03-04T16:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T16:52:36.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R83ul9WkcTI/AAAAAAAAAJw/XoPfqNL-iA8/s1600-h/Baby+Cotter+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174053882810364210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R83ul9WkcTI/AAAAAAAAAJw/XoPfqNL-iA8/s320/Baby+Cotter+08.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R83ul9WkcUI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/hfZLbvn2sTg/s1600-h/Baby+Cotter+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174053882810364226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R83ul9WkcUI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/hfZLbvn2sTg/s320/Baby+Cotter+2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/11763416-6530002562637495351?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6530002562637495351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6530002562637495351' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6530002562637495351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6530002562637495351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/03/oh-baby.html' title='Oh, Baby!'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R83ul9WkcTI/AAAAAAAAAJw/XoPfqNL-iA8/s72-c/Baby+Cotter+08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8487506916085627691</id><published>2008-02-28T09:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T12:30:06.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"friends" of my past.</title><content type='html'>So, Anne and I went to the birth movie a month ago and I ran in to an old friend from high school.  I hadn't seen Lisa since her wedding day, which was the summer of 2000.  Its amazing how people blossom so unexpectedly.  I never knew we had so much in common!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Lisa has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mySpace&lt;/span&gt; account, and now I have one too...which I made so I could be her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mySpace&lt;/span&gt; friend and see pictures of her little girl, Mia.  After firmly avoiding networking sites like these for years, I am now a member of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mySpace&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;.  I already had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; account that I had used to track down a friend from college, but Anne was my only friend, until 2 days ago, when I became Lisa's friend.  Now, everyone and their cousin from my high school is sending me friend requests.  I don't even want to be "friends" with these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt;!!!  But if I deny the requests, I'm gonna look like a big-time jerk, right?!?  Looks like its back to avoiding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, more than anything, it makes me think about what a "friend" is.  I can count the number of true friends I've had in my life on both my hands, and I am content with that.  Quality, not quantity....exactly the reason I've been cooping myself up in this house all winter.  I don't want any more friends.  Except Paige is right.  I need to be a part of a community.  So, yesterday, I took Thelma to a playgroup, and I met 6 other moms and their kids.  Thelma had such a good time that she cried when it was time to leave, and I'll admit...it felt good to get out of the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring IS almost here.  I can't believe how much more daylight we've been having, and soon the crocuses I planted in the yard last fall will be peaking out of the snow.  Everything is nearly anew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8487506916085627691?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8487506916085627691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8487506916085627691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8487506916085627691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8487506916085627691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/02/friends-of-my-past.html' title='&quot;friends&quot; of my past.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-2093420549115348030</id><published>2008-02-21T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T14:16:50.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it was a last minute decision to exit off of hwy 52 onto county road 56, headed south. we meant only to just drive by. thelma was fast asleep. i could feel my heart beat more and more quickly as we neared 44819. by the time we reached the end of the long drive, we both knew we couldn't resist getting closer. thelma was waking as he went to peak inside the window of the back door. as he walked back towards us, his shoulders shrugged and he mouthed the words, 'its open'. pulling on my coat, throwing a blanket over thelma, he added...'its trespassing, i guess. its illegal.' my answer.....'its OUR house. what are they going to do to us?' so we went inside. everything was much the same as the day we were first there 2 months ago....but it was colder now. colder inside than it was even outside. it still smelled like a barn, and it still felt like home. i was shaking the entire time we were inside....i don't know if it was from the cold, or the excitment. we drove away with heavy hearts, both hoping that the house will sit and wait for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7333n9qjoI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-7UyAFRtVNM/s1600-h/IMG_0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169560482283687554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7333n9qjoI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-7UyAFRtVNM/s320/IMG_0742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; somehow....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7334H9qjpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/-doN2mJuMt8/s1600-h/IMG_0744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169560490873622162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7334H9qjpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/-doN2mJuMt8/s320/IMG_0744.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;someday...&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/11763416-2093420549115348030?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/2093420549115348030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=2093420549115348030' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2093420549115348030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2093420549115348030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-was-last-minute-decision-to-exit-off.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7333n9qjoI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-7UyAFRtVNM/s72-c/IMG_0742.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8187936919337064807</id><published>2008-02-13T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T08:23:10.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>on my plate... in my head.</title><content type='html'>my breakfast...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7MU8X9qjnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/yX4OWeJvcJE/s1600-h/IMG_0849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166496224981454450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7MU8X9qjnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/yX4OWeJvcJE/s320/IMG_0849.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;in the meantime, Thelma refuses to eat anything at all for breakfast, unless it begins with mac and ends in cheese.  its either that, or my tube of burt's bees.  i really hope this is just a phase.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;when i offer a suggestion that she doesn't agree with, her response has become, "i don't like you , mom."  where did she learn that?  another phase, i hope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it makes me think a lot about my own phases.  just like Thelma, i am still learning about my world...from the people i love and the experiences i embrace.  i want to remember my phases, my secrets, my memories.  i've tried to forget so many things....to make myself believe that they have been erased.  but, i know they are there.....if i look closely, and make a wish to uncover them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8187936919337064807?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8187936919337064807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8187936919337064807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8187936919337064807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8187936919337064807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-my-plate-in-my-head.html' title='on my plate... in my head.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R7MU8X9qjnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/yX4OWeJvcJE/s72-c/IMG_0849.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6445271261246481564</id><published>2008-02-07T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T16:37:10.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to be attached.</title><content type='html'>It is something I don't talk about often...my greatest fear. I go so far as to say I have no regrets, because if I admit the one that exists, it might be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in attachment parenting. I have never let Thelma cry herself to sleep, I have never ignored her request for my presence. As a result, I have a 2 year old child who is scared of nothing. She has trusted me completely and continues to do so as she explores her world and seeks out her independence. It is my greatest pride and achievement to have brought her to this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On December 18, 2000, I gave birth to a son whom I named Daniel Adam Brunner. You all know him as Jack. I never breast-fed him. I let him spend his first night in this world in a hospital nursery full of bright lights, strange sounds and voices unfamiliar to him. The next day, I left him. I know his adoptive parents love him as much or even more than I could have myself. Still, the fact remains that he was robbed of the opportunity to become attached...left to his own devices. The people whom I chose to be responsible for him were strangers to him as he entered the world. What will the ramifications of my actions be? Is he afraid? Does he know how to trust? Will he forgive me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The letters and pictures his adoptive parents send me twice a year reflect a happy, healthy, well-adjusted kid. I would expect no less than for them to portray a bright and sunny picture to me. For now, he seems fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I carry another child in my womb. I can feel it move. Last night I had a dream that I was having an ultrasound done, except that the image wasn't up on the screen. It was as if my stomach was translucent and I could stare straight down inside myself at this little child. My feeling in the dream was that it was a boy and he had amazingly long eye lashes. He was smiling and laughing at me...almost mocking me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have another son, I hope my heart isn't afraid to love him. I hope he will not suffer because of my mistakes. I hope I can learn to never take for granted the gift that my children are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-6445271261246481564?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6445271261246481564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6445271261246481564' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6445271261246481564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6445271261246481564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-be-attached.html' title='to be attached.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-4735229173755843173</id><published>2008-02-06T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:04:30.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>torn.</title><content type='html'>On Saturday I waited outside in a line well over a mile long to hear Obama speak in Minneapolis.  It was 2 hours before we got inside the doors of the Target Center, but well worth the wait.  This man has the kind of energy and charisma that I've been longing for in a president for a long time.  He has devoted his life to community service and my heart tells me that he is the one who can bring this country the kind of change it needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn.  I am a woman who is constantly outraged by the way women are mistreated and underappreciated in our society.  Now, a woman stands a chance at being president, and my heart does not support her.  Like me, she is a mother and a wife.  Unlike me, she is extrememly wealthy.  Fact is, its the fund-raising that bothers me....the acceptance of lobbyist money and now, just in the past couple of days, the contribution of 5 million dollars of her own fortune to continue the surge of her campaign.  Its suspected that she is willing to contribute up to 15 million more in order to win her party's nomination.  Is this kind of big money the only way for a woman to gain power?  It scares me.  Furthermore, I am troubled that, since 1989, in a country with over 300,000,000 people, we have not been able to elect a leader outside one of two families.  I am ready for change.  If Hillary does win the nomination, I will be happy and content and will support her 100%.  In the meantime, I'm not convinced that she's what America needs right now.  Women around the world, forgive me if I am wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-4735229173755843173?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4735229173755843173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=4735229173755843173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4735229173755843173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4735229173755843173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/02/torn.html' title='torn.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6692597002672848740</id><published>2008-01-28T06:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T08:00:17.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>minnesota heat wave</title><content type='html'>After days on end of below zero temperatures and wind chills, the thermometer hit nearly 20 degrees on Saturday. We couldn't resist the opportunity to spend the entire day outside. Delip built a fire and we roasted hot dogs and made tracks all over the yard with the sled. Thelma had a blast and I realized that life here might not be so bad after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the temp shot up to 35 yesterday, we continued our outdoor weekend with a long hike through &lt;a href="http://www.qhnc.org/"&gt;Quarry Hill Nature Center&lt;/a&gt;.  I just recently discovered this great area and imagine we'll be spending a lot of time there.  They also have parent/child preschool classes that I'm going to start taking Thelma too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more day of warm weather and then back to normal tomorrow.  Hope you're all out enjoying it as much as we are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-6692597002672848740?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6692597002672848740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6692597002672848740' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6692597002672848740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6692597002672848740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/01/minnesota-heat-wave.html' title='minnesota heat wave'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6632172392287827660</id><published>2008-01-16T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T08:48:19.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>heartbeat.</title><content type='html'>I had my first visit with my new midwife today.  After much contemplation, I decided to make an appointment at the Winona Center for Women's Health.  My prospects for this birth have not been encouraging lately, because our new insurance will not cover a cent of a home birth, and I had really had my heart set on going that route.  Delip and I talked about it a lot and came to the conclusion that we just cant afford to cough up $3000 to have this baby at home, when insurance will cover it 100% if I go to the hospital.  Just another huge disappointment when it comes to the way our society treats women.  At first I was truly depressed about this reality, and then I started to think about having a baby in this house...this house that, even after two and a half months, still doesnt feel like a home to me.  That, combined with the possibilty of our Kenyon dream farm still being up in the air, made me feel a lot better about driving to Winona today.  BTW, I can definitely imagine having babies on the farm in Kenyon.  However, even if we do acquire it in the next month, I cant imagine it being in livable condition by the time this baby is due on July 28th.  The one thing I have known from the start of this pregnancy is that I would not be swept into the super-medical Mayo clinic community.  The drive to Winona is about 40 minutes, but worth the extra effort ...mostly flat farm land, until you get closer to the river valley and you enter bluff country.  I have a thing for the bluffs.  My Mom and Dad grew up on the Wisconsin side of those river bluffs, and my Grandpa Darrell and Grandma Thelma still live amongst them.  Driving into them will always remind me of summer visits to the farm to feed the calves, picking wild black caps and baking pies....winter visits at Christmas time when everyone went sledding after dinner.  The rocky cliff that my grandparents house sits under cuts off sharply and then falls down into the most perfect sledding hill.  As we were leaving Winona today, it was snowing heavily, and I thought to myself how at "home" I felt in this part of the country.  Of course, it really helps that I already love my midwife.  She made me feel like I was in complete control, and spent nearly 2 hours with me, just talking and getting to know each other.  I want to be her friend.  She is soooo nice and even let me borrow her wise women herb book after pointing out her favorite tonics and tinctures.  Only problem was, she couldn't find the heartbeat.  She tried and tried, probably for just a few minutes.  But they were silent minutes that seemed like a really long time.  I am fairly positive of how far along I am, and by 12 weeks and 2 days, they usually dont have a problem finding the heartbeat.  I laid on the examine table with my hands on my stomach while she went to see if the OB doc was available to do a quick ultrasound.  I laid there and thought....this is my punishment.  My punishment for the things I have done....the secrets that I have kept.  This is the first time I have "planned" for a baby, and now I'm lying on this cold table, covered in a piece of paper, ready to make a deal with God, with ANYONE, so that I can have this child.  LeAnn came back in and said that Dr. Shelton was available.  She helped me off the table, wrapped another piece of paper around my waist and checked the hallway for men.  She showed me into an ultrasound room where the sonographer, her back to me, was typing numbers into a little computer hooked up to the machine.  I just stood there, didn't know what to say, and startled her once she realized my presence in the room.  LeAnn came back in with Dr. Shelton, and I could tell that they were both nervous...hoping for the best, but not knowing what to say in the mean time.  So, I'm on my back again, with my eyes closed and a ridiculous amount of goo on my stomach.  They start making small talk....asking about Thelma, saying how beautiful she is, but I keep my eyes closed.  I keep them closed until I hear the Dr. say, "Everything looks perfect."  I turn my head, eyes open now....and I see the screen, the baby, the tiniest little flutter of a hearbeat.  Everything is perfect.  A big sigh of relief and LeAnn is wiping the goo off me and checking the hallway again.  Soon, I am walking through the parking lot under a sky dense with snow.  Thelma points up at the bluff and says, "Mom!  Look at the huge rock, Mom!"  Hail Mary, full of grace, you are with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-6632172392287827660?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6632172392287827660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6632172392287827660' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6632172392287827660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6632172392287827660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/01/heartbeat.html' title='heartbeat.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-2548366128782856672</id><published>2008-01-04T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T14:49:12.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and i'm not even trying to point out how big this pregnancy is making my boobs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R363QI6fShI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Ib8TMRs2nfk/s1600-h/IMG_0821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R363QI6fShI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Ib8TMRs2nfk/s320/IMG_0821.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151756511657019922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Thelma's favorite games....decorating everything with sparkly stickers.  More often than not, I am the victim of her creativity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-2548366128782856672?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/2548366128782856672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=2548366128782856672' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2548366128782856672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2548366128782856672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-im-not-even-trying-to-point-out-how.html' title='and i&apos;m not even trying to point out how big this pregnancy is making my boobs.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R363QI6fShI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Ib8TMRs2nfk/s72-c/IMG_0821.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-5873924534374288212</id><published>2008-01-02T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T15:19:06.488-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>our new year's eve was the most uneventful yet.  i was in bed by 10pm....and woke up on new year's day feeling a bit sorry about it.  but then, it hit me.  its 2008.  and i couldn't be happier to be back in an even numbered year.  much less an even numbered year in which we get to elect a new president.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;delip and i are celebrating 4 years of married life today.  well, actually...i guess we celebrated yesterday and this morning.  he, unfortuantely, had to be at work at noon.  this afternoon, i treated myself to a pedicure and let some girl on you tube teach me how to do a basic smoky eye.  i had limited tools and supplies, but it was kind of fun to do something for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R3wZLY6fSeI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bNLJW7u6jj0/s1600-h/smoky+eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R3wZLY6fSeI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bNLJW7u6jj0/s320/smoky+eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151019757262031330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R3wZkI6fSfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/sOecXiI0WR8/s1600-h/different.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R3wZkI6fSfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/sOecXiI0WR8/s320/different.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151020182463793650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and even if delip can't be here tonight, i feel so lucky to have thelma's company.    a little part of him that follows me every where i go.  she has become more and more like him lately...even looking less like me these days.  and if that means that she will grow up to be as funny, unselfish and bookish as he is, then bless them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy anniversary, husband.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-5873924534374288212?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/5873924534374288212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=5873924534374288212' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5873924534374288212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5873924534374288212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2008/01/our-new-years-eve-was-most-uneventful.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R3wZLY6fSeI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bNLJW7u6jj0/s72-c/smoky+eye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8455423203409375671</id><published>2007-12-02T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T14:18:23.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas trees and an Appleseed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R1MecAJDt6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/_NX_zU_jai0/s1600-R/seed.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R1MecAJDt6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/0VmS8tlqYo4/s400/seed.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139485066183030690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed the annual "find the perfect tree" party in Northfield.  I missed the nog.  I missed the knob.  I missed all of you, so much.  We got stuck in the snow in Wisconsin...in my Aunt Brenda's driveway.  Now we are home, and we've found our little spot covered in a layer of ice.  The ice is so thick atop the snow that you can walk across it without sinking in.  All of the trees have a layer of ice on their south sides.  This is the just the right kind of first storm.  The kind that reminds you exactly what lies ahead for the next 4 months.  Because, lets face it.  We live in Minnesota, USA.  This is how winter is supposed to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also the perfect preface to a Christmas tree party.  And since we missed out yet again, I'll proabably just go to the co-op to get a tree that was grown at &lt;a href="http://www.oneotaslopes.org"&gt;Oneota Slopes Farm&lt;/a&gt;.  Delip would prefer to go to the farm on Austin where he and his dad planted hundreds of trees when he was 10 years old.  I don't think he realizes that we wouldn't be able to fit any of those trees through our front door.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of our night...I just finished baking a pan of bars to take to a potluck for the new University.  Because thats what you do 'round here.  And in honor of the beautiful women in my life, my line tonight will be "How 'bout a bar?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8455423203409375671?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8455423203409375671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8455423203409375671' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8455423203409375671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8455423203409375671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-trees-and-appleseed.html' title='Christmas trees and an Appleseed'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/R1MecAJDt6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/0VmS8tlqYo4/s72-c/seed.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-9219012924284571333</id><published>2007-10-31T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T07:56:57.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trick or treat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RylF17vsibI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I6iJZJM0Cfs/s1600-h/IMG_2283.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127706443611146674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RylF17vsibI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I6iJZJM0Cfs/s320/IMG_2283.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was Thelma's second Halloween...and her first time going trick or treating. She has been practicing all week long and had a blast&lt;br /&gt;knocking on the same doors I did when I was a child. She wasn't shy at&lt;br /&gt;all, and belted out her request as loud as any other kid on the block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I don't know how to post my videos directly to this blog yet...(HELP ME ANNE!)...so, click on trick or treat to see Thelma!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-9219012924284571333?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.vimeo.com/365848' title='trick or treat!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/9219012924284571333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=9219012924284571333' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/9219012924284571333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/9219012924284571333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/trick-or-treat.html' title='trick or treat!'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RylF17vsibI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I6iJZJM0Cfs/s72-c/IMG_2283.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-2195279412442789729</id><published>2007-10-19T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T10:23:35.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Bay, Wis...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RxjLp_EWOqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EkhJ1sLX2oA/s1600-h/IMG_2173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RxjLp_EWOqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EkhJ1sLX2oA/s200/IMG_2173.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123068498298682018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a tradition in our family to make an annual trip to "Title Town, USA" to cheer on the Packers.  When I was a kid we didn't have enough money to actually see a game at Lambeau Field, so my dad would take us to pre-season training camp and we would wait in line for hours so my brother could get autographs of all his favorite players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi6yPEWOoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mixbQCHVdZM/s1600-h/IMG_2137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi6yPEWOoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mixbQCHVdZM/s200/IMG_2137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123049948334930562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always eat dinner at the Prime Quarter, where you choose your own steak from the fridge and then grill it yourself on huge charcoal pits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi4lvEWOkI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ulSWfKfUejc/s1600-h/IMG_2184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi4lvEWOkI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ulSWfKfUejc/s200/IMG_2184.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123047534563310146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next morning, we wake up early to head to the parking lot adjacent to Lambeau to do some serious tail-gating.  This involves drinking beer and eating brats, sauerkraut, potato salad and baked beans before 10am on a Sunday morning.  My mom used to make us go to church first.  Over the years I think we've been to every Catholic church in the greater Green Bay area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi3BvEWOhI/AAAAAAAAAHA/sK2FMWfTxnI/s1600-h/IMG_2198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi3BvEWOhI/AAAAAAAAAHA/sK2FMWfTxnI/s200/IMG_2198.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123045816576391698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, my mom has changed since I've become a responsible adult.  We didn't go to church this year.  Instead, my mom is doing Jello shots.  I've never ever done a Jello shot.  (Take note that someone is giving my dad bunny ears in this picture....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi4R_EWOjI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/FYPbBCppGjU/s1600-h/IMG_2192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi4R_EWOjI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/FYPbBCppGjU/s200/IMG_2192.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123047195260893746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Packer-lope"....(yes, those are antlers on his helmet.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi3iPEWOiI/AAAAAAAAAHI/PGcMYdRi0Hc/s1600-h/IMG_2196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi3iPEWOiI/AAAAAAAAAHI/PGcMYdRi0Hc/s200/IMG_2196.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123046374922140194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Support the Green Bay legend....donate your bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi1zfEWOgI/AAAAAAAAAG4/tn7ZS5FsPBE/s1600-h/IMG_2201.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi1zfEWOgI/AAAAAAAAAG4/tn7ZS5FsPBE/s200/IMG_2201.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123044472251628034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The polka band that tours the parking lot taking requests...  My mom and I danced to "Roll out the Barrel".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi0LPEWOfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/73mvGDfHjjk/s1600-h/IMG_2206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rxi0LPEWOfI/AAAAAAAAAGw/73mvGDfHjjk/s200/IMG_2206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123042681250265586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite standing in the rain for three hours, I can honestly say that this is a tradition I will never tire of.  Plus, the Packers won, 17-14!  Go, Pack, Go!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-2195279412442789729?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/2195279412442789729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=2195279412442789729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2195279412442789729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/2195279412442789729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/green-bay-wis.html' title='Green Bay, Wis...'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RxjLp_EWOqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EkhJ1sLX2oA/s72-c/IMG_2173.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8874936881010311191</id><published>2007-09-17T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T10:37:01.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>32786 Harrow Road</title><content type='html'>Yesterday will go down in my history book as "The day in which St Joseph and Craigslist decided to get together and work their magic..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday....feeling very frustrated about the lack of interest our realtor has brought to our home....I spent Thelma's entire nap time searching for St Joseph in my backyard.  I buried him early in April, before our house was officially on the market...(which my mom says was my first mistake!!!)  Within a week of having buried him, either Thelma or Delip pulled the stick out of the ground that was marking his location, and he has been missing ever since.  Thursday was not the first search I have conducted for St. Joseph.  I have spent hours on at least two other occasions searching for his 3-inch white plastic figure.  Have you ever tried to dig around in your back yard?  Its amazing all of the treasures that you can find....army figurines probably dating back to the 1950's....spoons with their handles bent all the way back....pieces of what was once someone's treasured china.  Things left behind and probably forgotten.  Every time I would hit an object with my garden spade my heart would leap with hope, and then drop with disappointment.  I held my hands upon the ground and prayed to God and St Joseph and the Universe and whoever was listening to help me feel his energy so I would know where to dig.  I didn't think it was working, until my shovel scraped against something that clearly sounded like white plastic!  And then, there he was, in my hands.  I felt like he had just been born out of my backyard at 663 Smith Ave as I vigorously rubbed the dirt off his face and feet.  After a very heartfelt talk, I buried St Joseph in his new location, upside down, facing SSE in the direction of Harrow Road.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday afternoon, around 1pm, I posted an ad on Craigslist in an attempt to rent both apartments of our home.  By 1:30, I had recieved the first response and my phone has been ringing ever since.  We showed the apartments to three potential tenants yesterday and actually had to chose between them because all three  wanted to live at 663 Smith.  It was practically a bidding war.  Tonight I am going to call back the other 15 inquiries to tell them the apartments are rented.  We are signing leases with both tenants tonight and we have to be moved out by October 1st.  Two weeks....plenty of time, right?  Except that Pat and Sara are getting married on September 30, and the wedding festivities begin on the 26th....Romantica opens for Ryan Adams on the 27th....and we have no place to move.  They say where there's a will, there's a way...and I have my heart set on moving to 32786 Harrow Road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8874936881010311191?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.edinarealty.com/Listing/ListingDetail.aspx?Search=da3894c8-d1de-4109-9634-a648db6a4937&amp;Listing=23660246&amp;IRPAgentID=&amp;Image=1&amp;First=1&amp;Last=1&amp;pagesize=10&amp;SearchType=&amp;ListingDistrictTypeID=&amp;FirstLetter=&amp;Sort=6&amp;Cookies=&amp;UseColorBar=false' title='32786 Harrow Road'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8874936881010311191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8874936881010311191' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8874936881010311191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8874936881010311191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/32786-harrow-road.html' title='32786 Harrow Road'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-7686777608479970941</id><published>2007-07-09T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:24:11.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In September....Thelma will be less than 2 years old, and she is going to be a flower girl in the wedding of my cousin and Delip's brother.  If you ask me, this spells "trouble" (Thelma being a flower girl, that is....not the on-going merger of our families...)  We went to order her dress last Friday and she ran around the store like a crazy person....(which I'm sure I should have put an immediate stop to, but when I see her run around like that all I think is "thank God she is burning off all of that energy and might go to bed by 9pm tonight!!!")  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKD4dwicKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/tDMBC2ZsyW4/s1600-h/IMG_1670.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKD4dwicKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/tDMBC2ZsyW4/s200/IMG_1670.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085271935338836130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKD4dwicLI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TmTYbgV5kSU/s1600-h/IMG_1671.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKD4dwicLI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TmTYbgV5kSU/s200/IMG_1671.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085271935338836146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKDLNwicJI/AAAAAAAAAFs/DKMrOh7ItK8/s1600-h/IMG_1669.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKDLNwicJI/AAAAAAAAAFs/DKMrOh7ItK8/s200/IMG_1669.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085271157949755538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-7686777608479970941?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/7686777608479970941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=7686777608479970941' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7686777608479970941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/7686777608479970941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/07/in-september.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RpKD4dwicKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/tDMBC2ZsyW4/s72-c/IMG_1670.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-166345297493971552</id><published>2007-06-30T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T07:23:23.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lumpy bumpy...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I went to the "women's center"...(which is just a nicer way of saying gynecologist)...to have a lump in my breast checked out.  In addition to the thumb size lump that I had found in my left breast, Bridget Bahneman (who is, by the way, a FANTASTIC certified nurse midwife) also found a smaller one in my right breast.  I can't say that I was honestly worried that I had cancer.  I haven't been losing any sleep over this, but I was still releived to hear her say that they were more than likely either fibroids or cysts that show no signs of cancer.  She said I just might have lumpy bumpy breasts, and that my breasts might be lumpier and bumpier at certain times of the month than at others.  I am just fine with having lumpy bumpy breasts, as long as they are still in working order, but I am having an ultrasound next Friday, just to be on the safe side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 13 years old I had a lump in my neck.  Little did I know that my mom was worried sick that I had a terminal illness.  I had to miss a day of school to go to the doctor and when the diagnosis was a very swollen gland due to a mosquito bite on my head my mom was ecstatic.  So much so that she took me shopping that afternoon for a new "outfit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I called my mom yesterday to tell her that I don't have breast cancer she exclaimed how happy she was that I'm not dying.  We're going shopping for a new dress for me after the ultrasound on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also relating to my breasts....one week and one day ago, I nursed Thelma to sleep for the last time.  It was her 19 month birthday.  So, I guess my body is my own again now, which is great.  But I loved nursing her and will always treasure the memory of that experience.  To celebrate, we had lobster, sweet corn, and strawberry shorcake with Jeanne, Jaena, Jonah and Beverly last night.  Jeanne put a candle in Thelma's dessert and we all sang "Happy, You Drank All Your Milk Day" to the tune of Happy Birthday.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-166345297493971552?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/166345297493971552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=166345297493971552' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/166345297493971552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/166345297493971552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/06/lumpy-bumpy.html' title='lumpy bumpy...'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6940616209429405356</id><published>2007-06-30T06:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T06:28:43.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If Thelma wasn't a part of my life....I think I would feel like everything was at a complete standstill right now.  All I can do is sit and wait.  For the house to sell, for the right farm to magically appear....for my life to transform itself.  Next in line to becoming a mother, this move is the greatest transformation of my life.  Not because the idea of having a farm is so obscene, but just that this really is my dream about to come true.  But the truth is, I have NO idea what I am doing...and I know that I have this idealistic, romanticized vision of what my life on the farm will be like.  What I really want is to having something substantial to pass on to my children.  I suppose this is what we all long for really....just that some people find bank accounts more valuable than dirt.  But I have always been of the hands-on sort...so my kids are getting dirt.  Lucky them.  I wonder, will they despise me for this decision I am making?  I am choosing for them a life that is so different from the one that they would lead if Delip and I chose to stay in St Paul.  My guess is that at least one of them will.  Maybe it will even be Thelma.  And she and I will spend her young adult years and my grey-braid years trying to figure out where we both went wrong.  Hey, at least I'll have my farm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-2gGp6gTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/4rcYdbHAZGk/s1600-h/IMG_1089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-2gGp6gTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/4rcYdbHAZGk/s320/IMG_1089.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052957969591468338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-6940616209429405356?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6940616209429405356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6940616209429405356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6940616209429405356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6940616209429405356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-thelma-wasnt-part-of-my-life.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-2gGp6gTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/4rcYdbHAZGk/s72-c/IMG_1089.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-5386617480451108265</id><published>2007-05-07T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T10:44:41.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday....I became a godmother and Delip became &lt;em&gt;The Godfather&lt;/em&gt;.  The experience was quite emotional for me.  I didn't feel this way at Thelma's baptism...maybe I was too sleep deprived to have noticed.  But when I looked at my little brother and his beautiful wife and their new little creation, my eyes welled with tears.  How did this happen?  When did we grow up and become parents who have the will to have our own children baptized.  And now I am a godmother.  Which means that I am responsible for providing birthday gifts, and christmas presents, and birthday cards with cash inside.  Oh, and his faith.  Now I have taken on the responsibility of showing him what it means to love God.  With Thelma...I didn't have an option.  With Benji, I chose to say "yes".  "Yes", I will be your godmother, and it is an honor.  I just hope he understands that I definitely don't have this whole God thing figured out yet....and that it might not happen any time soon.  All I can say is that I have always found comfort in the mystery of God...in knowing that God is much much bigger than anything I can conceieve.  This awe is what I hope to pass on to Benjamin.  May he never fail to realize the beauty of the world that God blessed us with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jW9JmxQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Cf1Av8KTLwM/s1600-h/IMG_1352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jW9JmxQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Cf1Av8KTLwM/s320/IMG_1352.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061873752210851074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jW9JmxRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/VR1DbYWv-d0/s1600-h/IMG_1356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jW9JmxRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/VR1DbYWv-d0/s320/IMG_1356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061873752210851090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great Grandpa Darrell, Great Grandma Thelma and Thelma Catherine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jXNJmxSI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lTMbwaPX-ik/s1600-h/IMG_1379.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jXNJmxSI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lTMbwaPX-ik/s320/IMG_1379.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061873756505818402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Generations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jXNJmxTI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ox-bNJQvSDg/s1600-h/IMG_1347_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jXNJmxTI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ox-bNJQvSDg/s320/IMG_1347_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061873756505818418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-5386617480451108265?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/5386617480451108265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=5386617480451108265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5386617480451108265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/5386617480451108265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/05/yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rj9jW9JmxQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Cf1Av8KTLwM/s72-c/IMG_1352.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-773811733515627659</id><published>2007-04-13T09:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T08:54:17.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy</title><content type='html'>Lately, there has been a lot of happiness in our family....I don't know what it is, probably the fresh spring air and blanket of green that is starting to cover our world.  Spring seems to translate to happiness....and happiness to craziness.  Not that Delip and Thelma haven't been running around our house crazy all winter long... but it seems to have spread to my mom, dad and my brother, Adam.  Here's just a hint at how they have been acting....Thank goodness for spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-3IGp6gUI/AAAAAAAAAE0/JEmLht2_fUI/s1600-h/Photo+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-3IGp6gUI/AAAAAAAAAE0/JEmLht2_fUI/s320/Photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052958656786235714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-3IGp6gVI/AAAAAAAAAE8/oYLcw_Zkm5s/s1600-h/Photo+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-3IGp6gVI/AAAAAAAAAE8/oYLcw_Zkm5s/s320/Photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052958656786235730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-2f2p6gRI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N13002O8ZC0/s1600-h/IMG_1076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-2f2p6gRI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N13002O8ZC0/s320/IMG_1076.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052957965296501010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-773811733515627659?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/773811733515627659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=773811733515627659' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/773811733515627659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/773811733515627659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/04/crazy.html' title='crazy'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-3IGp6gUI/AAAAAAAAAE0/JEmLht2_fUI/s72-c/Photo+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-6179775181125482283</id><published>2007-04-13T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T07:47:11.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>declutter.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-PGGp6gKI/AAAAAAAAADk/HatJtaI122g/s1600-h/IMG_1269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-PGGp6gKI/AAAAAAAAADk/HatJtaI122g/s320/IMG_1269.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052914641961386146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we dropped Thelma off at my mom and dad's so we could have 2 uninterrupted hours of de-cluttering our house.  We had to remove a truckload full of items that have been deemed "objects that might make our house unsellable".  I can't believe we have this much stuff.  STUFF.  That we don't even use on a daily basis.  Of course half of the truck was full of books that we dont' have shelf space for.  Still, even half a truck of stuff is too much.  My hope is that we can go back through it once this move is complete and maybe by then we will be able to narrow it down to a quarter truck of stuff that we simply must keep.  My mom and dad have graciously offered up their THIRD garage as a storage unit, so at 10 o'clock last night, I drove the U-haul that chugs back to Hudson.  Right now, it is parked outside on the street.  And Thelma is running around without a shirt because she spilled water all over it at breakfast time.  And I am sitting here having a cup of coffee.  I don't sit and have coffee very often anymore.  Usually I am running around the house, forgetting where I last set it down.  On the days I actually think I need the caffeine I stand in front of my little espresso machine and do shots.  I guess this is the life of a mother on the brink of picking up her whole life and moving to the country.  (and working four days a week.)  But this morning, I am taking a break.  And as soon as Thelma's shirt dries, we are going to the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-XoWp6gOI/AAAAAAAAAEE/sMxGanJrkvs/s1600-h/IMG_1276-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-XoWp6gOI/AAAAAAAAAEE/sMxGanJrkvs/s320/IMG_1276-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052924026464927970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-6179775181125482283?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6179775181125482283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=6179775181125482283' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6179775181125482283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/6179775181125482283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/04/declutter.html' title='declutter.'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rh-PGGp6gKI/AAAAAAAAADk/HatJtaI122g/s72-c/IMG_1269.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-3541433939598578388</id><published>2007-03-20T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T04:21:40.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rf_ieMK-rJI/AAAAAAAAADY/dmDqWd0-Dps/s1600-h/85899_5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043999115969473682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rf_ieMK-rJI/AAAAAAAAADY/dmDqWd0-Dps/s320/85899_5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd like to buy a barn....and a creek (pronounced crik)....and a pond.  a few sheep, maybe a horse.  some chickens, a dog and a few cats who will have kittens in my hayloft.  land where I can run free.  I thought I was wanting to buy land so that my children would grow up feeling the freedom that space has to offer, but I'm realizing that's probably just an excuse to get me what I really want.  I'm trying to learn that it is just fine to want things for myself.  and I want this barn.  A LOT.  Its just a bit north of Rose Creek, Minn....about 8 miles east of Austin....and it is the barn of my dreams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have been working overtime in order to get our house ready to go on the market so that we can perhaps put a conditional offer on this barn, which, by the way, also includes a house with heat, running water, and a finished basement.  nothing fancy.  just a simple rectangular structure that would make it possible for me to wash my dishes while looking out at this barn.&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;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-3541433939598578388?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/3541433939598578388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=3541433939598578388' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3541433939598578388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3541433939598578388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/03/id-like-to-buy-barn.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rf_ieMK-rJI/AAAAAAAAADY/dmDqWd0-Dps/s72-c/85899_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-8435719457267619369</id><published>2007-03-20T05:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T05:56:32.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Walking down St. Peter late Sunday evening....I had just left the hotel after finishing up a 3-11:30PM shift....and I don't normally enjoy working this late at all.  I'm a morning person.  But, the night had acutally been a busy one and went by quickly making it much more bearable.  So, my spirits were high...and instead of walking out in a grumpy daze, I chose to take note of my surroundings.  I looked up at the Landmark Center clock and it sparked a fantastic memory of biking downtown to get the coffee on for St. Paul.  Biking was always the quickest transportation option and so I usually arrived a little early....I would lock up my bike and sit down on the wall alongside Landmark Park....eat my orange and take in the morning air.  Sunday night, my car was parked directly along St. Peter and across the street from the Lawson entrance....right where I used to eat my oranges.  I took a  peak inside and saw Alan, the same overnight security guard that would be sitting there there when I arrived so early in the moring.  I realized.  Nothing has changed.  Except for Thelma, Anne moving back from Iowa, Paige adopting Verla, Amanda welcoming new life....and I realized.  My life is incredible.  I am blessed.  And I rememberd my old philosophy that I am not defined by my employment status.  This re:realization renewed me.  (I know....that's a lot of re.s)  I got in my car and turned on the current.  The perfect song was just beginning....I drove home....hit every green light perfectly.  Gas at the holiday station was $2.41/gal.  Not a good price, but my perfect numbers.  More green lights....and the song ends just as I pull into the driveway.  A perfectly orchestrated ride home.  I go inside to find Delip (the nearly perfect companion) fallen asleep on the couch trying to wait up for me.  My life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-8435719457267619369?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8435719457267619369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=8435719457267619369' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8435719457267619369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/8435719457267619369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/03/walking-down-st.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-3643592709232903388</id><published>2007-03-13T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T06:03:04.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rfae6XdU1II/AAAAAAAAADI/0zBjRW59nsg/s1600-h/mv1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041391558454465666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rfae6XdU1II/AAAAAAAAADI/0zBjRW59nsg/s200/mv1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RfaeTXdU1HI/AAAAAAAAADA/gP_GSeMtzK0/s1600-h/mv2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are no words to describe what a beautiful experience the maiden voyage was for me. I am so blessed to have such incredible women &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;in my life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The timing has been perfect in more than one way...recently I have given a lot of thought to what I should teach Thelma regarding her "woman parts", and at this age, verbiage is all I need to address. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yoni&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; came into our vocabulary just when we needed it! OK, so its not quite in Thelma's vocab yet, but when I ask her where her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;yoni&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is, she knows! I am so proud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RfaZPXdU1CI/AAAAAAAAACY/8QBlYxR6HmY/s1600-h/tc1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041385322161951778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RfaZPXdU1CI/AAAAAAAAACY/8QBlYxR6HmY/s320/tc1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RfaZJ3dU1BI/AAAAAAAAACQ/FrbEAYGlWNo/s1600-h/tc2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041385227672671250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/RfaZJ3dU1BI/AAAAAAAAACQ/FrbEAYGlWNo/s320/tc2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Never mind the fact that I still can't get Yonni Meron (from my fourth grade class....he had a green mechanical pencil that he lovingly referred to as "green machine", which he was constantly swinging through the air like he just hit a grand slam, home run.) out of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/11763416-3643592709232903388?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/3643592709232903388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=3643592709232903388' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3643592709232903388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/3643592709232903388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/03/there-are-no-words-to-describe-what.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4nN5F0w9dg/Rfae6XdU1II/AAAAAAAAADI/0zBjRW59nsg/s72-c/mv1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-4569936036201110523</id><published>2007-02-19T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T10:25:41.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>why do i find a meltdown so exceptionally beautiful and romantic?  its not that i’m not happy with my life….i am so happy and so content.  yet, it seems that i have always desired cracks….to slip through and fall until i hit rock bottom once again.  dear friends….no worries.  i am not currently slipping or even considering it!  but, when i look at my past, this is the pattern that i see….and the low times seem to be when i felt the most inspired.  when i had a muse…-noun: a source of inspiration; especially: a guiding genius.  now, my life is full of laughter….Thelma’s, Delip’s, my own---and Yours.  i wish the laughter was enough of a muse.  i guess laughter is just laughter..and knowing how it fills my heart must make it a very good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today- i was inspired by music, which is so present in my world lately.  2 songs especially- Lucy Kaplansky’s &lt;em&gt;This is Home&lt;/em&gt;…..and Eileen Barton with the New Yorkers- &lt;em&gt;If I knew you were coming I’d’ve baked a cake&lt;/em&gt;….which is hilarious…(therefore i guess laughter can inspire, afterall!!)  you can listen to it here..  &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/asc/current/index.html"&gt;http://www.npr.org/programs/asc/current/index.html&lt;/a&gt;   and laugh along with me if you’d like…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-4569936036201110523?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4569936036201110523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=4569936036201110523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4569936036201110523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/4569936036201110523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2007/02/why-do-i-find-meltdown-so-exceptionally.html' title=''/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11763416.post-111206246842048432</id><published>2005-03-28T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T18:14:28.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>so much spring...</title><content type='html'>....and of course, this all begins with an emergency knitting club...and yes, it is somewhat of an emergency!!!...waiting for Paige to arrive...ande so so so much spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11763416-111206246842048432?l=eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/feeds/111206246842048432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11763416&amp;postID=111206246842048432' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/111206246842048432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11763416/posts/default/111206246842048432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eleanorgasteyer.blogspot.com/2005/03/so-much-spring.html' title='so much spring...'/><author><name>eleanor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114606044935100530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
