tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86584555299064759482024-03-15T21:11:20.335-04:00Life as the mother of 4I have two girls and two boys ranging in age from 19 to 13. Will is autistic and I'm tired. Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.comBlogger973125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-165532233911675242023-07-18T09:02:00.000-04:002023-07-18T09:02:00.183-04:00Spelling to Communicate <p> I have no idea if anyone still reads this blog. If you do and if you have a non, minimal or unreliable Speaker find a Spelling to Communicate (S2C) practitioner at <a href="http://I-ASC.org">I-ASC.org</a> and give your child the ability to communicate! </p><p>Will has been spelling for just over two years and can type on a held keyboard and is working on independent typing. He can request pain medication now. He chooses what he wants to do on his birthday. He told us what he wants to do for Christmas. He asked for piano lessons last November. He can play games with the family. He told me he wanted to snorkel and because I knew he did I could confidently coach him through doing it even though his body wasn't cooperating.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimueFgX4Kl5apQao4WN8lIp6pZcLu1Pztrfw6SVpgSUz-Jewq3tIAK0cBzSCU6MdkCLuehyuFaCkxHQJLaXjTBjinQ5Gbnr5ZXnEVlXEajGeeBnAIRI63m5loUzlTWtrbZj_KfGqfFXoS8rRla5FlFvPFvpJuZV2SeYC8zQG05Jdfnxrt0miw3gw8CftY/s1523/Will%20snorkelling.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="1523" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimueFgX4Kl5apQao4WN8lIp6pZcLu1Pztrfw6SVpgSUz-Jewq3tIAK0cBzSCU6MdkCLuehyuFaCkxHQJLaXjTBjinQ5Gbnr5ZXnEVlXEajGeeBnAIRI63m5loUzlTWtrbZj_KfGqfFXoS8rRla5FlFvPFvpJuZV2SeYC8zQG05Jdfnxrt0miw3gw8CftY/w637-h349/Will%20snorkelling.png" width="637" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p>Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-28833047694281765692015-11-25T11:57:00.001-05:002015-11-25T11:57:40.687-05:00Cheesecake and RollsI called my friend Katherine to talk about what she is bringing for Thanksgiving dinner. She asked if I was making rolls. "No," I responded. "They never turn out and I only try every couple of years."<br />
<br />
"It's good for a half hour's worth of conversation," said Katherine. "It's not too late to make them."<br />
<br />
"I feel like I am letting down my pioneer ancestors by not being able to make rolls."<br />
<br />
"It's not too late to make them."<br />
<br />
"Don't worry, I have a cheesecake fail that's definitely going to use up the half hour of conversation tomorrow."<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
Because I started making the crust but couldn't find my spring-form pan.<br />
<br />
I found two chocolate graham cracker crusts and tried to adjust my recipe to fit them -- I didn't do a good job.<br />
<br />
I decided to pour the cheesecake mixture back into my mixer to add more cream cheese and the crust came with it. --- I know!!!!<br />
<br />
Result -- One cheesecake in a chocolate graham cracker crust with broken up pieces of the second crust mixed in and another crust-less cheesecake with half the crust mixed into the cheese cake.<br />
<br />
I think I have a new way to disappoint my pioneer ancestors.<br />
<br />
<br />Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-91327805621295085002014-01-15T19:56:00.001-05:002014-01-15T19:56:51.566-05:00I don't know whyTwo days ago I walked upstairs and followed a curious fruity smell into the bathroom. On the floor was a pillow. Will had ripped off the allergy case and the cloth that covered it. So the pillow was a lumpy, cottony mess carefully covered with a bottle of apricot body wash. He covered the apricot body wash layer with an entire package of pads that he had taken out of the plastic wrappers and had removed the backings from the adhesive. He carefully covered the entire "pillow" with two layers of pads and discarded the plastic wrappers by the door. The backings were left in a different pile. When I moved one of the pads to take a closer look at the orange body wash Will ran over and fixed his art installation.Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-27263738863627822582013-11-25T21:09:00.001-05:002013-11-25T21:09:51.290-05:00Germany and BelgiumMaybe this has turned into a travel blog? My dad called me at home yesterday to ask if I was still in Germany. Of course, I said "yes."<br />
<br />
My husband and I went to Germany last week. We left Saturday and missed Bri's concert. She is in the River's Youth Symphony and they played in WGBH's sponsored cartoon something at Symphony Hall. So, that's a once in a lifetime event we missed.<br />
<br />
We had a layover in Berlin so I signed us up for a 4 and1/2 hour walking tour. It was so cold by the end I just wanted to go back to the airport and find an air vent to cuddle. Then we flew to Cologne for the night. Monday we drove to Brussels. We saw a couple of things bought a lot of chocolate and bought some lace for my girls to not appreciate.<br />
<br />
Tuesday we drove to Ghent. That is a very cool town! We saw <a href="http://www.visitgent.be/en/castle-counts?context=tourist" target="_blank">Gravensteen</a> Castle, and climbed up a billion stairs to the top of a bell tower. We stayed at the Marriott which had original building fronts. They upgraded us because my husband has platinum status to one of the pained windows rooms at the front. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img height="301" src="webkit-fake-url://1D6C28E5-4F5F-4A45-9EC6-E2F924EF051D/imagejpeg" width="400" /><br />
<br />
Wednesday night we drove back to Cologne because my husband had to work the next day. We had a nice dinner with his European colleagues. The next day I went to the Lugwig art museum and walked around the cathedral. We had dinner with more colleagues. Friday I went to the NS Document Center because I like history. We flew back Saturday and it took literally 3 days. Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-54718228365390541652013-09-15T22:34:00.000-04:002013-09-15T22:34:24.282-04:00I have a New MantraOne of my friends said, "You are a little bit sasstastic." I'm not sure what that means but I take anything this woman says very seriously because she is fantastic! I mean it's not everyone who can go to law school at night, take care of their toddler during the day, have another baby, clerk for a state supreme court justice and study for and pass the bar while pregnant with their third child and end up as one of the two valedictorians. (Can you tell that this woman impresses me immensely? Well, to be honest, she also makes me want to take a nap.)Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-44339850952718718452013-04-18T12:26:00.000-04:002013-04-18T12:26:00.533-04:00President’s Day<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The most appropriate President's Day I have spent thus far in my
life occurred Monday February 18, 2013 at the JFK Presidential Library in
Boston.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We listened to an Abraham Lincoln
and Ulysses and Julia Grant reenactors. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Boom – I am now way more patriotic that most people
because 3 Presidents in one day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Will sat through two films – one about JFK and one
about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Even
considering that he spend most of the Missile Crisis film sitting on the floor
I AM DELIGHTED! Because it is amazing
because he hates watching movies in a theatre.
(Maybe he is fine if it’s a documentary?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Elizabeth bought a plastic imitation of a straw hat
because she likes to waste money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The saddest part of the day occurred when we drove
to Waltham to go a Chinese Restaurant that closes on Monday, urggg. So, we were forced to close out our President’s
Day with a more appropriate late lunch of Mexican food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-42194745362153084772013-04-16T09:31:00.000-04:002013-04-16T09:31:18.830-04:00Partriot’s Day 2013<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yesterday Elizabeth and I went to watch the Marathon
with the Raskells. On Saturday they
bought Elizabeth a “Marathon Cowbell” in Hopkinton so we rang it and yelled out
the names of the runners. We saw Jake’s
middle school principal running and a family friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I decided about a half hour before leaving for the
marathon to have a barbeque so we invited the Raskells and the Davis’s
over. I took Elizabeth and Davin to the
store to buy hamburger and hotdogs then we went home to prepare. The Raskells arrived and Tiffanie’s phone
started ringing. People asking if she
was alright. Don joked that the only
injury we’d received was my sunburn. Then
we realized what happened. Erin left the
room to call her husband who was at work in Boston. He was right there and heard both
explosions. He was on his way home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We didn’t feel like celebrating anymore and watched
the news rather than play games. Then Rebecca
threw up on my dining room floor which seemed to be an appropriate end to the
day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-16976974401609628272013-04-09T11:45:00.000-04:002013-04-09T11:45:00.835-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 6<br />
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<b>Day 6 – Tues Feb 26,
2013 -- </b><b>The Long Slow Road Home</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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On Tues I woke very early.
It wasn’t just the rooster, and the 4 am church bells -- the horse had
been kicking the other side of the wall to our room. Then my stomach rumbled and I discovered I really
needed to get up to visit the banyo. A
whole week of eating in El Salvador, at all kinds of places, many without
running water, and the one that gets me is the local high-end fast food, Pollo
Campero (“Picnic Chicken”, literally, Camper Chicken). It is the local clone of KFC that El Salvadoran’s
love. We ate there for lunch at the
ritzy mall in San Pedro. I had a
chicken sandwich and cole slaw. Bobby
ordered a hamberguesa, and they brought him a chicken sandwich, and said ‘si,
es hamburgeusa’. [Pollo Campero got to
Bobby too, we had to make a pit-stop between immigration and customs in
Dallas. “Pollo Campero” has now become
a code-word euphemism between us.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We packed the night before, so there wasn’t a lot to
do. However, our hosts kept giving us
more stuff to take with us – more cheese, 3 bundles of frozen tortillas, bread,
snacks, etc. And of course there was
breakfast before we left – beans and rice (cooked from scratch that morning),
with sweet bread, fried plantains (picked the day before by Bobby’s uncle and
then delivered to us). Salvador had
left at 4 am, as usual, and he returned promptly at 7:30 am to drive us to the
airport. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The last two dinners we have not eaten alone. We’ve been served first as usual, but then
Norberto, Salvador, and Salvador’s father have joined us before the meal was
over. We are now family, not just
guests. (Either that or Siria has been
getting very hungry awaiting her turn to eat.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The American Airlines rewards tickets I booked left us with
an overnight layover in Dallas. I booked
a night at a Residence in Ft Worth (so we had a fridge, to cool down 60 lbs of
cheese). I thought we’d make the most
of it and go see the Ft Worth Rodeo, however, there just wasn’t anything worth
seeing on a Tues night. We made a quick
trip to the University of Texas to see a gallery of meteorites (I think I have
different touristy tastes than Bobby).
It was cool. Bobby liked the
quote from Thomas Jefferson: “I’d rather believe that New England Professors
lie, than rocks fall from the sky.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We picked up some tacos along the way. Mexican, and Tex-Mex, may look similar to
other Central American food, but it is different. And I realized that just a little Spanish
brings a whole different response from the cook behind the counter. I’ve been missing out on a lot as just
another Gringo.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Over a true Texas dinner at Smokey’s BBQ, Bobby and I
reminisced about the trip and talked about real estate and taxes over a meal
that contained more meat than we’d eaten the previous six days. We couldn’t believe what we’d packed home –
a lot more than we took. But the best
part for me? I got to live like a local, and experience a
different life for a few days. It gives
me a lot to think about.<o:p></o:p></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-41970087586732318022013-04-08T11:43:00.000-04:002013-04-08T11:43:00.070-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 5<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>Day 5 - Monday Feb 25, 2013 --</b> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><b>A </b><b>Trip to the Market </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>(and how to
pack 60 lbs of cheese in a carry on)</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Today, we didn’t go ocean fishing as we had planned.
We had a good recommendation for a fishing guide from Guillermo and talked to
him on Saturday in La Libertad. I suggested that I stay in the car, so we
“wouldn’t pay the Gringo price.” After a few minutes, I saw Bobby waving
to me to come in, so I opened the door (and set off the car alarm, as I was in
a locked car, in a somewhat seedy area). The guide was an American
ex-pat, and a very decent guy, as the first the first thing he said to me was
“the fishing is terrible right now. Both offshore and
in-shore. You should come in the rainy season if you want to catch
a lot of fish. However, the boat ride is beautiful…” His price was
$300, which “includes everything but the beer”, which is actually a really good
charter rate. So we decided to skip the fishing and go to the market
today instead. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Today started not with breakfast, but with a 6 am ride with
Norberto to the little town of Tapalhuaca, where he milks cows every
morning. After a pleasant hike through some jungle, past a banana
field, around a mango tree and under a cashew tree, we came to the corral, and
the milking ‘stall’. Next to a small stream, there were two small
trees, two short ropes, a bucket, a stool, and a large two-handled plastic
jug. Bobby’s uncle showed us how a local dairyman works.
You get a cow, put a rope around the horns and cinch it down, and tie the
cow to the tree. Then you get her calf out of the corral, let it feed for
a few seconds, so the cow lets down milk. Then you tie the calf to a
nearby tree, get the bucket, your stool, and tie the second rope around the
cow’s back legs, so it can’t kick you, or the bucket. Then you milk the
cow by hand. When the bucket is full, you pour it into the jug.
When the jug is full, Norberto carries it down the trail and gets another
one. When the cow is empty, you untie the cow and calf, let them go graze
and repeat the process. About 30 times. With no running water,
soap, etc. They sell milk for $0.35 per bottle (a quart, I think).
Each cow produces 12-18 bottles. “Pasteurized milk costs more,”
Julio told us. A young dairy cow goes for $1100. They are a
mix of breeds – all different colors.
Few black and white Holsteins.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you stay to the left, instead of turning through the
jungle path, In the middle of nowhere, down a narrow dirt farm path, you come
upon a flat spot with a full regulation soccer field, complete with concrete
drainage. It was the El Salvador version of Field of Dreams.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After milking was done, we went back to Bobby’s uncle’s
house, where Bobby’s aunt fixed breakfast for the three of us. Once
again, guests eat first, while everyone else waits. Scrambled fresh
farm eggs cooked in butter with red peppers, sausage links,salty farm cheese,
and rolls. Very tasty. The ceiling in the farm house had
exposed beams – you could see the roofing tiles, and air gaps at the
eves. Bobby’s uncle rested in a hammock and chatted a little with us,
while Bobby’s aunt put on some favorite music. Boogie songs from
the disco period. No kidding – boogie woogie, BeeGees, Tina Turner mix
CD. Then on a walk through the kitchen she showed me the metate grinder
that her mother used – a family heirloom. This is the life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After some visits to Bobby’s other relatives in Tapalhuaca
(who live across the street, but due to a long-standing dispute of unknown
cause, they don’t speak to each other), and programming a universal remote for
Julio, so he could select the Spanish language on DVDs again, we went back to
San Pedro. We picked up Siria and Jose (the most active 2 year old you
can imagine) and drove to the market. On my shopping list – a
hammock. We needed a replacement for William, and they knew which
were good quality. And I had Siria, a local, who knew where to go and how
to bargain (and she also speaks Spanish, unlike me.) And I wanted to buy
a melon. Not to spoil any surprises here – I ended up with a lot
more than one hammock. Purchases I’m NOT bringing home include a
watermelon, two Galicia melons, and a papaya – all of which were very tasty
after a dinner of rice, arachara steak, and salsa fresca.
Lunch today was the local version of Kentucky Fried Chicken – Pollo
Campero. If you want to try it, there’s a chain location in
Boston. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We then went to buy cheese. 50 lbs of it. And 1
can of Coke. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And then planning went a little weird, Latin style.
One of Bobby’s relative’s girlfriends (who Bobby’s never met) called, wanted to
take us to dinner. Bobby politely turned her down since we’re leaving
tomorrow. Then Nixon called – he and Roxanne had a package for us, and
some cheese (which Nixon makes). So after traveling ½ way back home, we
met up with Salvador, traded cars, leaving one at a gas station. Bobby and
I were invited by Salvador to hop in the back of his pickup. I did, but
hesitated to sit down, as this was the greasy truck bed where the transmission
parts were shuttled last week and I was wearing my tan shorts. Sr. Salvador
saw me hesitate, and got an old towel from the cab for me to sit
on. Then while Bobby and I enjoyed the scenery from the back, we
made some detours, picked up some invoice paperwork, paid somebody wages, and
then pulled into the main bus station. As Bobby and I were in the
back, multiple hawkers came up to us to solicit us to ride their particular
bus. Siria then got out with Jose, took the tomatoes that the
bought, and rode a bus home. We couldn’t figure it out – I think
she just went home so she could start cooking dinner. Everything
happens, when it happens. We eventually met Nixon and Roxanne,
wandered a mall for an hour, ate some ice cream cones, and when parting were
given another 12 or so lbs of cheese (not labeled for import, or at all), and a
bag of other gifts and stuff. And then were told that the highway was
shut down for two hours in the direction we needed to go. So we
drove the long way back to the gas station, starting in the opposite direction,
and through many side streets.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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At the gas station / transfer stop (which I know well –
we’ve seen it nearly every day I’ve been here), we again traded
cars. Salvador spoke up to the young, shot-gun toting security
guard – I heard something about “banyo?” Essentially, we were told, nah,
you don’t have to go inside – you can all go pee on that wall over there… I’ll
keep an eye out for you. So we had protection, while the four of us
relieved ourselves by the back wall behind the gas station. And I thought the guards were there to keep
people <i>from</i> peeing on the back wall. Silly gringo.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, back at Salvador’s casa, after dinner and a shower, and
removing one tick, Bobby and I are puzzling out how to pack up 60+ lbs of
cheese (some legal to import, some not), hammocks, pottery, 6 pairs of sandals,
various gifts, chocolate, horchetta mix (plastic bags of off-white powder),
bags of stuff we were given to take back, a 2-foot long machete, 16 lbs of dry
beans (a gift for Sis. Herrera, hand-picked by Norberto), and one Ayote squash,
given to me by Salvador’s father (which I’m trying to find a polite way to
leave here). Salvador very helpfully offered that we should just go to
sleep, and the women would pack our bags for us in the morning (we’re leaving
before 7:30, and I’m certain there will be a breakfast cooked from scratch before
we go). <o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe, that is. I just saw the weather on a news
segment. Dallas is in a blizzard, with forecast for a lot of wind and
snow tonight. “Do NOT travel,” the weatherman said.
Seriously? Dallas only gets a blizzard once every few years.
And it’s tomorrow? At least the cheese would be cold.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So… maybe we will be here a little later in the morning than
planned. I’ll let you know.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-18336940874240436452013-04-07T11:41:00.000-04:002013-04-07T11:41:00.116-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 4<br />
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<b>Day 4 – Sunday Feb
24, 2013 -- </b><b>A San Pedro Sunday,
with a Hint of Danger</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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</div>
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Our host, Sr. Salvador, works 6 days a week, often leaving
by 4 a.m., to work with his 12 buses and 6 trucks. Sunday is his day off
(sort of – we made three weekly delivery slip pickups today – at a “barrio”
where one of his dump truck driver’s lives, at a gas station near his truck
parking lot, and once by the side of the freeway). Though I had wanted to
go to church to experience that in a foreign country, today was the one day Sr.
Salvador had to spend with us. He had plans and wanted to show us some things.
Today all the men were going to the horse races. His brother has horses,
and they gather on Sundays in various locations with other horse owners where
they compete in feats of horsemanship. They also wanted Bobby and I to
ride a horse. I tried to beg out of it – my way of thinking is that
riding a horse is more dangerous than a motorbike. If I wreck a
motorbike, I did something wrong. The horse adds a new variable
that I don’t control. So when I said “no, but thank you, I haven’t ridden
a horse I was a child (nino),” they suggested I at least sit on one and have
Bobby take a picture. So I said OK, and climbed on. And then they
led the horse around the riding area on a lead, with Norberto walking the
horse, like I was a nino getting a pony ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We watched the first event, where the horseman raced down a
road and under a rope with ribbons hanging from it with rings that were about
the size of a quarter. The goal is to put a thin spike through a ring as
you ride under the rope, and if you spear the ring, you win a prize. Sr.
Salvador’s brother was the first to ride, and he speared a ring and won.
While we were there, we had noticed our hosts were jittery, keeping an eye on
us (they always do), and keeping us close by. They later told us
that they ‘didn’t like the crowd today.’ Some gang-banger looking guys
were hanging around (actually, to me they look like skaters or high school kids
in the USA), but there was one with tattoos all over both arms who spoke clear
American English. (Bobby told me that no one gets tattoos in El Salvador
– unless they are in a gang.) They were eying us – not obviously – so was
everyone else, so it’s hard to tell. Then a little kid came up to
Bobby with a big grin. Almost immediately, Sr. Salvador said, “OK, let’s
go.” And so we left. Later in the car he explained that the
gangs use kids to approach foreigners to determine if they have money, and are
worth robbing. It could have been innocent, but I really don’t think it
was. We were being targeted. In the evening, Sr. Salvador’s
brother said that he was going to suggest that we leave, then he saw we already
had. Several times our hosts have kept us out of ‘bad areas.’ They
are constantly aware. Yesterday we were told that Sr. Salvador pays $600-900/month
of protection money a month for his business so he has ‘no problems’ with gangs
robbing his buses.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So we went to lunch. There’s a little joke that
started yesterday… they asked me if I want pupusas (which I later learned are
evening food), and I say “porque no? (why not?)” I said I was fine with
any kind of food, because it has all been very good. Sr. Salvador wanted
to go out for a nice meal, so we stopped in the nice area of San Salvador for
Chinese food. And I had the most expensive meal in El Salvador, and the
first meal that was, well ‘meh’. Bobby ordered egg rolls (which are
called ‘Taco Chinos’ – literally Chinese Tacos), and we had a whole deep fried
fish in sweet & sour sauce, pork fried rice, and beef with
vegetables. It was OK. For our hosts it was something new –
they had never had egg rolls before. And the whole fried fish was good
and a little different. After lunch, we made a few quick business
stops on the way home. Then Salvador showed us the herd of cows that he
and his brother keep. He wanted us to feed them salt from our
hands. So I did, under the shadow of an enormous mango tree. They
are very tame dairy cows, well, except for the cow that charged Bobby. Plus
one very docile hornless bull.<o:p></o:p></div>
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While all the men went to the horse races today – the women
and baby stayed at home. Gender roles are very defined in El
Salvador. Women have the traditional roles. Men do not cook,
clean, buy food, do laundry, change diapers, etc. The women in the house
also do not drive. I think Senora Salvador (Siria) was a little taken
back today when I told her that I sometimes cook crepes at home.
This has caused me a dilemma – I want to buy a local melon while I’m
here. I’ve learned enough Spanish to know how to ask, but I’m always in a
car driven by the men. How can I ask to pull over to a roadside fruit
stand? Ugh, the challenge of traveling 3000 miles to eat a local melon,
and holding back because I do not want to do something locally considered
really odd. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Guests come first in El Salvador. Siria cooks
breakfast every morning, and sets two plates, and she serves Bobby and I, and
we eat the meal before anyone else eats anything. There is no ‘family
dinner’. Come to think of it, I have never seen Siria eat, except for the
first night we arrived, when we went out for pupusas at a pupusaria on the
drive home from the airport. This morning Siria’s mom (who also lives in
the house, takes care of the new baby, does laundry, etc.) started the day by
chopping the top off fresh coconuts with a machete, to make Bobby and I a
coconut milk drink for breakfast (you carve the top into a cone with a small
hole at the top, and drink from the whole coconut). Breakfast today was
‘pancakes’ – very much like crepes, cooked in fresh butter. You put raw
honey on them, not syrup. It’s like eating a crepe drenched in
honeybutter. Heavenly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We had a few minutes before we left today, so Sr. Salvador
gave me a tour of his bus that was parked out front (the one he drives).
It’s a former school bus from Virginia, that’s been modified for local use:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A second door was added in the rear (similar to
the swinging doors in the front, but with hydraulics to open it – you can see
where they cut and welded and modified the bus body to fit the second set of doors)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A very sturdy steel luggage rack was added above
both sides, to hold bags, baskets, tools, chickens – whatever you are bringing
with you, and to provide handholds for the standing passengers<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The seats were cut down so they are narrower,
and then recovered. This way each side sits two passengers (not
American sized), now with room for 3 to stand in the widened middle aisle <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The bus is painted a beautiful signature blend
of colors (Bobby has a picture), with photos of his departed mother and brother
where the back windows used to be, and slogans, LED lights, new horns, chrome
bumper, etc.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Fins and a spoiler were added on top (for looks,
not performance, he said)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->There is a killer sound system, with really good
acoustics, for the enjoyment of passengers. The speakers are mounted in
cardboard tube sections (pieces of concrete forms) – very smart, cheap way to
make bass-boost chambers<o:p></o:p></div>
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Salvador wants to replace one of his buses with a newer,
bigger one. He said when the bus is too slow, you don’t get a full load
of passengers (100+ capacity - the fare is $0.85, for a 45 min ride into San
Salvador, sitting or standing). He’s been asking me how much the used
buses cost in the USA – he wants to buy one direct and drive it back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The 80’s (and 90’s) soundtrack continued today – with Men at
Work, ABBA, Billy Idol, the Ghostbusters theme (with video), Flashdance, Pet
Shop Boys, etc.. After 9 am it switched to 90’s with Backstreet Boys,
some early hip-hop, and so on. Everyone here wears American t-shirts and
listens to American music. They want their children to learn English too,
but there are not a lot of local options for classes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m ready for a quiet evening. It’s been a hot
day. Tomorrow we’ll go to the market, and to a cheese distributor to pick
up the 50 pounds of cheese we came to buy, for import. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Is there anything you want me to pick up especially for mi
esposa, besides queso?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-29900731325245214102013-04-06T11:40:00.000-04:002013-04-06T11:40:09.010-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 3 <br />
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<b>*My husband was unfortunately lost in the Jungles of El Salvador and just barely got home. </b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Day 3 - Saturday Feb
23, 2013 -- </b><b>Touring like Che
Gueverre</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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Remember how on Day 1, I said that I would NEVER drive in El
Salvador? Well, I lied. I not only drove on all kinds of El
Salvador roads today, I did so on a motorbike. Which I’d never ridden
before. That had a broken starter, so I had to roll it down hill and pop
the clutch after I stalled it – which I did a lot. I’m pretty good going
forward, it’s the transition between stopping and going that’s hard. At
the end of the trip I realized I did all this for over 7 hours without my
driver’s license. Or even my passport. All I had was a couple of
phone numbers in my pocket – no, on second thought, I didn’t even have that --
I left that paper in the car. No way to identify me whatsoever. And
no way for me to even call anyone local. [Oops…]<o:p></o:p></div>
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After a tasty breakfast (really good red beans, a string of
chorizo balls, fresh rolls and tamales from the Saturday morning street vendors
who roam the neighborhood, garnished with a big pile of cream (at first I
thought it was mayo – no, a mound of fresh cream with the same consistency),
then a brief morning walk around San Pedro, we met Norberto for the drive to
the focal activity of this whole trip – the motorcycle tour. After
a few missed turns to find the moto tour place, we went down a dirt road lined
with some dried up banana trees, and pulled up to a big open shed, full of
motorcycles (half of them in some state of dis-assembly), with an outhouse, and
a couple of other open buildings without doors. We met Guillermo, the
owner, a long time native who went to the Univ. of Texas in Austin many years
ago to learn to speak English. That was a real bonus for me.
So we suited up – in knee & shin protectors, riding pants, boots, shirts,
gloves, helmet and goggles – all of which had seen better days. My gloves
had some holes, and my boots had a broken latch and one sole that was coming
off. But I felt lucky. Bobby’s boots were held on with duct tape.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I told Guillermo I hadn’t ridden a motorbike before, just a
scooter and a mountain bike – he set to work teaching a first-timer. He
put me on a somewhat lower to the ground hybrid dirt/road bike, and gave me
simple instructions for the brakes, clutch, accelerator and gears (which I
never succeeded in doing exactly correct the first time – it took a few
tries). Then he had each of us make a couple of rounds around a little
bunny hill that he used to test your riding skills. Norberto and
Bobby proved they knew what they were doing, generally. Me? I
stalled the bike twice (Guillermo’s assistant Miguel had to push start it),
then went around the loop OK, but had trouble stopping the bike when I returned
to the courtyard. I muffed the clutch (thought it wasn’t in gear), spun
out right there and laid the bike over on me with the accelerator cranked,
engine revving and back tire spinning rapidly. Doh. Guillermo
shut the bike off, lifted it off me, I shook of the dust and said I was
OK. I knew what I did wrong, and we both agreed that it was good
that this happened so early. Then I promised “I will not do this
again.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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And I didn’t. And I went around the bunny trail
another dozen or so times, with stepwise instructions. Then I rode for
the entire day, and never biffed it again. I did stall the biked a
lot, and mostly restarted it on my own by rolling downhill and dropping it into
gear. But today I rode:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->On dirt roads, dirt trails, gravel roads, very
steep cobblestone roads, small village streets, jungle tracks, windy mountain
roads with switchbacks, up an old volcano caldera side, around the rim on a
road, then back down again<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Through construction zones, coffee plantations,
around trucks, front end loaders, buses, pickups full of people, a horse, a
herd of cows, children crossing the road, and chickens that mostly decided NOT
to and scattered <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Through a couple of creeks, some deep dirt
piles, loose gravel and rocks, some sticks and brush and vines<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->On a bike trail with a steep cliff off to the right,
with a fallen log or two blocking the trail<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Past old ladies balancing laundry on their head,
old men walking with canes and machetes, and children on bikes, carrying each
another<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->With two dogs nipping at both feet, while I was
trying to climb a dirt road with a lot of holes and loose rocks. Really,
they pick me?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Past a man with a machete who was cutting in
half a hollow log that had a hive of bees in it (they were pouring out of the
cut end, and the spot where he was chopping), while his son watched.
Really? I take it these were not ‘killer bees’. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I was like Che Gueverre… well, if he was not a bearded
young radical single communist guy, or a revolutionary, but a pale gringo just
learning to ride, with helmet and full safety gear, plus some duct tape.
OK, so maybe not anything like Che. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Today had an ‘80’s soundtrack. Saturday is a day for
music. The TV was on during breakfast, tuned to VH1 Classic.
Breakfast was accompanied by Queen, Madonna, and Kiss. And this theme
continued all day, with early Michael Jackson, Beegees, more Madonna, Alan
Parson, Asia, Boston and various disco. Norberto likes the music I
listened to in high school.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Interesting things I saw today:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Produce sellers combing the neighborhood, like
the ice cream man. Without going to the market on Saturday morning, you
can buy all your produce, tortillas, bread, tamales, etc. etc. They just come
to your door.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Guillermo and Miguel, busy cleaning a
carbuerator in the back of the open air restaurant while we waited for our
lunch. Can you imagine doing that in Chili’s? Or Outback? They also
patched a tire while on the road today.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A man in pressed dress slacks, a new belt, and
nice shoes, shirtless, walking down the road with a big unsheathed
machete. Going to some important function, I suppose.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->An El Salvador style ‘strip mall,’ with a greasy
black transmission repair shop right next to (sharing the same wall as) a
bakery / tortilla stand.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I realized this morning that I had seen dozens
of stray dogs, but had not yet heard one bark. They are remarkably well
behaved. It’s like they understand they are the last step on a fragile
food chain. (Then I learned that this is only true of city dogs. On
dirt roads in the country, they chased me. Several times.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Used to be an odd sight, but now so common it’s just
background:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Women cooking over open fires in makeshift
stands by the roadside. Often they have a fire in an old automobile wheel
rim on a stand, with a griddle or pan on top of it. Apparently the
air holes and round shape of a wheel rim are ideal to reuse as a fire box.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->People carrying a large cluster of bananas (not
a bunch – a whole cluster, like 150 or 200 bananas – 3 feet of banana bunches<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Cows being herded down the street by a boy of
about 9 years old, with a reed or a stick<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Chickens – tiny, scrawny, skittish
chickens. They don’t have any of the attitude I’ve seen from
chickens in the USA.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Rusty corrugated sheet metal, as the universal
construction material – roof, walls, siding, fence, etc…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Good food I ate today:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A frozen choco banana, as a snack while riding –
very tasty. So much better than a popsicle. Not sure how much it
cost – 3 of them plus two Pepsi’s came to $0.70.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A hamburger, 1/3 lb at least, and better than
most I’ve had ($2.75, with fries). I hadn’t planned to eat a hamberguisa,
like a typical Americano. It wasn’t my
first choice, or second, but I gave up after my first two menu choices were
unavailable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A light green skinned watermelon, fresh cut, with
seeds (not easy to find in the USA anymore).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Enchiladas – what we would call a tostada –
crispy tortilla, with beans, boiled egg, avocado, tomato, cheese and
sauce. Yummy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->More papusas (we’ve eaten them every
night). Cheese and ayote (no translation – it’s a vegetable with apparently
no English equivalent). $1.25 for my two. Pupusas just get better.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Hot chocolate – dark, sweet, and with a unique
complex taste – like fresh ground cocoa, yet more subtle. I gotta get
some of this to bring home. It was addictive. ($0.65)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There will be more of me when I come home. This is a
gastronomic tour, with some other activities between meals.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m sitting here, gently swinging in a bright colored
hammock, with a gentle breeze, listening to really large firecrackers from
somewhere around the block. We first thought they were gunshots, but
nobody in the house seemed to even notice them. Just someone celebrating for
some reason.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
FYI, after a long hot, sweaty, dusty day, I’m not looking
forward to taking a shower. It may be 80 degrees, and I have a
slight sunburn where the helmet didn’t cover my neck. But this house has
a one-pipe plumbing system – only one choice of temperature – lukewarm.
Time for me to stop putting this off, and steel myself for the cold
splash. (I’m not complaining, so you know. The other place we
might have stayed didn’t have plumbing.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="FR">Mi vida es
importante por quarto ninos y uno esposa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-61089493065435928252013-02-23T12:14:00.000-05:002013-04-06T11:49:26.332-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 2<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Day 2 – Friday Feb
22, 2013 -- </b><b>Living the Vida
Localisto </b>[Living like a local]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will NEVER own a rooster. After the 5 am wake up, I
try to drift back to sleep and find myself dreaming of throttling that bird in
the middle of an uhr-rr-hurr-[grkck-hck-gasp…].<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My bed is surprisingly not uncomfortable, just very
lumpy. It’s not soft – I’m used to
American beds that are spongy on top. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt;">
After breakfast we catch
transportation this morning (our host Sr. Salvador’s brother in his extended
cab pickup) to go to Joya del Ceren (the ‘Mayan Pompeii’). Both brothers
own bus companies, where former school buses are painted bright colors and used
for local bus routes. There were three stops before we went through San
Salvador, the capital city during morning traffic: the middle of the road when
passing a bus (to give the driver a baggie of bills and coins – his
‘paycheck’), down a side street to tell a bus driver (who was sleeping in one
of the seats) his changed route for the day, and to make a payment for
something at a high-walled compound. Everyone talks on their cell phone
while driving. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt;">
We then stop at a gas station, and
back up to another pickup, bumper to bumper. A disassembled bus
transmission and assorted parts are slid into the back of our ride, and then we
switch rides. Sr. Salvador now takes us to Joya del Ceren. We are
supposed to meet Nixon & Roxanne (Louis Tobar’s oldest daughter) there, but
Nixon hasn’t finished making his daily batch of cheese yet… so we do the tour of
the museum with Sr. Salvador. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At Joya del Ceren – a peaceful little park – I again pay the
Gringo rate (the entry sign says “foreigners - $3, locals $1”). Sr.
Salvador thinks it’s really strange that there is a different price for
foreigners. He asks the ticket agent why Gringo’s pay more. “Because they
have more money” is the simple response.
(As a pricing professional, this makes perfect sense to me. It’s the simplest form of price segmentation
and a ‘pricing fence’ that I can think of.) <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We skirt past the school classes and tour groups and walk
through the site by ourselves. The museum is cool, with interesting pots
and artifacts and diagrams. The place itself is an archaelogical
treasure – a very well preserved ordinary small Maya village from 580
A.D. But the interpretive signs are too much. “…a ceremonial hall
where village elders gathered for important events, possibly involving a
beverage drank for mystical enlightenment” – give me a break, that is just the
village bar. It’s an unimpressive bunch of small Maya mud huts that were
buried by a volcano. But still cool to see how the other half
lived. In some ways, little has changed. Less than an hour later,
we get a call from Nixon and go to meet him at a gas station, to transfer
rides.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We go to lunch, at another archaeology site (a small Mayan temple,
but a site that was occupied since Olmec times, and part of a large Maya
settlement). There is a great energetic
guide who gives an impromptu tour of the museum. And it’s educational – I mention the altar of
sacrifice at the top of the temple, and when Bobby translates, it is apparent
that Nixon’s family didn’t know it was used for human sacrifice. When we
tour the museum, they see the ceremonial knife used to kill the winning team on
the ball court, the box used to burn the heart and blood of captives, and a
large statue of a warrior wearing the inverted human skin of a sacrificed
captive (no, that isn’t armor on those Maya warrior statues – think how that
smelled after a few days). They didn’t know any of this about the
Mayas. I find that odd –I’ve known about
human sacrifice in Central American cultures since before high school. Maybe I just had different interests from my
peers…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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After hiking around the temple, we take a ride through the
mountains, coffee plantations, stop in a relaxing little mountain tourist
village for some shopping, and dinner overlooking a volcanic lake at
sunset. A very pleasant day. Then we meet Sr. Salvador at a mall
for another hour-long ride home, stopping of course, for some pupusas along the
way (porque no?}<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I learn several times that my Spanish guidebook has led
me astray – words that mean nothing here, or are wrong (example: they’ve never
heard the Spanish word for ‘shrimp’
that’s in the guidebook). This little book is staying home
manyana. I’ll use my ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today was all about eating. Well, with some driving
and sight-seeing in between.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Breakfast: served local style (our host says
“it’s ready,” serves you a plate, and then leaves to do other things.
Bobby explained that sit-down meals are not a local custom.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Two
fried eggs, with salsa, with refried beans, tortilla, fresh cheese, really good
juice and rolls<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Snacks at gas station: Pan dulce (sweet bread) like
a maple-frosted croissant-donut hybrid, with a surprise raspberry filling ($1),
with a really tasty pina colada juice drink ($0.35)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Early lunch: yucca with chicharrones (like
sticky mashed potatoes with bacon chunks), and pupusas on the side<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Pupusas
are the local staple: like a stuffed pancake– shape of a tortilla, 5 inches or
so round, but filled like a tamale. Corn or rice dough with cheese or
meat filling, flattened and cooked on a grill. $.50 (bean or cheese) -
$1.00 (for meat filling) each. Served with a mild red sauce and shredded
cabbage & carrots soaked in vinegar. Eaten as finger food. Mui
bueno!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Afternoon munchies: green mango chunks (25 cents
a bag), really good gelato ice cream cones ($1), and a fresh coconut with the
top cut off and a straw to drink it ($0.60)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Early dinner: ½ carne plate (I wasn’t that
hungry after drinking a coconut) – a small grilled steak, chorrizho sausage
ball, pickled cabbage/cole slaw, with rice and black beans, fresh cheese,
avocado slice and a tortilla ($3.50)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Late dinner: 2 cheese and meat pupusas, with a
big pina colada frappe ($3.20)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m still full. And
so is my wallet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a day in El Salvador, the following sights have become
so common they are no longer a surprise – just to be expected:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Many people walking along the roadside.
Sometimes women might have a basket, or sack of rice, balanced on their
head. A man may be leaning forward with a bundle of firewood on the
back of his neck, or a machete slung from his belt.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Trucks so overloaded they tilt backward, often
with several people riding on top of the load<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Small pickups – Toyota, Datsun, Nissan, Mazda…
often with a dozen or more people standing in the back (there is a metal
railing installed about chest high, to keep them from easily falling out)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Road side vendors. You can’t go five
minutes in any direction without finding food offered for sale. USA
residential neighborhoods must feel like a wasteland – where’s the food?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A private security guard at every gas station,
with a pump-action ‘street sweeper’ shotgun slung at the ready<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Private security squads, in full military gear
with M-16s, around the banks and government office buildings<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Barred windows, high walls, razor wire and steel
doors on the haciendas and village entrances<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The following sights were still a little startling:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Old women wielding machete’s to chop wood<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A guy on a scooter in the middle of the capital
with a new lawn mower on the back rack<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A pickup that was so out of alignment you could
see all four tires clearly when behind it as it side-windered down the road<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Odd low-built carts, piled high with firewood,
being ridden down the mountain road like a BigWheel trike<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A large pile of mannequin parts in one market
stall in a busy street maket<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->A mural, with very good black-line pictures,
that simply read: Marx, Lenin, Mao, Che<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The San Salvador LDS temple, an oasis of calm
with splendidly clean grounds, new, and wealthy, a bright light amidst a sea of
thriving poverty<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then there are Bobby’s comments each day about how he
recognizes immediately the ‘scent of El Salvador’: It’s a slightly pungent mix
of aromatic wood smoke, road dust, and flowers, with a hint of burning garbage.
He’s right – it’s distinctive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I am left with something to ponder: our hosts don’t
know me, they work 6-7 days a week yet they drop everything and take a day off
to drive Bobby and I around to see the sights. They also insist on paying
for us - always for the first meal with us, and often for everything
else. We have to work to pay our own way. Would I do the
same, if they came to visit me in Boston?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tomorrow… moto tour.
Viva la vida commo localisto.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div>
<span class="hP" style="font-weight: normal;" tabindex="-1">
</span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-29658860977863303272013-02-22T16:09:00.000-05:002013-04-16T09:12:20.561-04:00Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 1<br />
<div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 16px;">
<i>My husband has started his<a href="http://lifeasthemotherof4.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-kind-of-vacation-that-my-husband.html" target="_blank"> El Salvadorian vacation</a>. Hopefully he will email me everyday about his adventures! I admit that I'm amused that he is trying to learn the profanity first because my husband doesn't usually swear.</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Notes to My Wife from El
Salvador </span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There And Back
Again, a Week’s Vacation; Motorcycle Diaries; Living La Vida Commo Localisto;
or simply “Six Days of the Gringo”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p><i> </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> (with translations, introductions, cultural
interpretations – the entire trip– thanks to Bobby)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Day 1 – Thur Feb 21,
2013 -- </b><b>A Day of Travel</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>[I was unable to
connect or validate my gmail account without a cell phone, but I was able to
access a Yahoo email account that I never use. Yes, it´s me.]<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrived. We hauled
two mongo black duffle bags as checked luggage full of _?¿_. So I´m a courier, of some sort. Extra clothing I am told. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Highlights of our day of travel:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Delayed 7:30 am flight out of Boston; I’m so
very glad we didn´t try for the later one. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I graded papers, estudio hablo espaniol. Bobby makes friends with the Mexicano who
lives in Boston who shared the aisle seat next to us. Uneventful flight, save a
little turbulence.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Four hour layover in Dallas airport... enough to
complete a counteroffer on 25 Warner St (really? I’m buying investment real estate during an
international layover?). We eat some BBQ,
I synch email and clear my inbox, and grade papers...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->and we lose Bobby´s luggage... we boarded our
flight, as I hoist my carryon into the overhead... Bobby says, "where did
I put mine?" He bolts from the plane...leaving his backpack behind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->"Boarding group 4...." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I decide to turn my cell phone back on, just in
case.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->If he doesn´t come back, do I get off the
flight? I think so....<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span>Bobby returns, with his bag. The pilot is
waiting for him. 'Heard a report about some guy dropping a backpack and running
from the plane...´</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The pilot decides to let us stay. [He was really a cool guy, actually.] Bobby later tells me his bag had been left
where we were eating BBQ – unattended for over two hours. [He didn’t mention that detail to the
pilot. Contrast this with Boston
airport, where the police approached us in Dunkin Donuts and demanded to know
if the bag two steps behind me belonged to me.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The flight takes off. Bobby corrects my <u>Learn
Spanish</u> guidebook - it has a Castillian lisp throughout, and Bobby says all
the phrases in the profanity section are wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->After the other passengers start giving us odd
looks, we end the discussion ofEl Salvadoran profanity. I go back to grading papers. Bobby
finds an empty row on the half empty plane for another siesta.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->We land. We drag (literally) the mongo bags through
immigration and customs. Easy so far. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I pay a $10 gringo tax at immigration and get a Visa
sticker in my passport. No one else does. Bobby's never been charged. I decide
it's my personal fine for 'no hablo espaniol.'<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->As we drag our luggage through immigration,
Bobby inhales deeply. “Ahh… it smells
like El Salvador.” I sniff, and smell
burning ditch bank, or maybe the slightly acrid smell of the cooking fires from
a South African shanty town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Bobby's cousins are waiting for us. We greet... and
I give them blank looks in response, then muck up the minimal Spanish greetings
I’d been practicing. They realize I
literally speak no Spanish. They look puzzled. Shocked, actually. It is a little odd....I suppose. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Ahhh... it´s 80 degrees at night, with a soft
breeze. I take off my long sleeve shirt. Roberto says that it´s cold tonight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->We pile in the transportation (6 people in a
SUV). It’s a comfy squeeze with all the bags in back. It’s luxury, I realize, as we pass small
pickups with a dozen people standing in the bed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Bobby shows pictures on his cell phone of 2 feet
of snow, to illustrate Boston (his cousin Roberto has never seen snow). Roberto
says he will take us to milk cows tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I will not drive in El Salvador. Ever. I try not to watch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->We stop for a snack. Papusas are tasty. Like pancaked tamales.
Even the cheese ones with the green herb Loroco (not available in the USA) are
good. The horchata (like fresh rice milk) goes well with them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Stray dogs wander by as we are eating, skinny
ones with ribs showing. They are timid.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->We stop 3 times for Jose (2 yrs old) to pee by
the side of the road on the ride to la casa<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->We finally arrive around 9 pm (Central time).
Greet Bobby’s great aunt, and watch some futbol.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m now comfortably settling in under the dresser with the
Winnie the Pooh poster, in the guest bedroom/ nursery. Ready for Transportation tomorrow at 7:30 am
(Latin time). Livin like a local.<o:p></o:p></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-63701633665505606662013-02-08T10:30:00.000-05:002013-02-08T10:30:03.288-05:00Briyonce<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Our realtor asked us if we were planning to watch
the Superbowl.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I asked, “Is that today?”
</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My husband said, “I’m in marketing.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The commercials are what we watch.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But apparently my family watched some of it
because my husband started calling Bri Briyonce after she started mock dancing during
halftime.</span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-76824910221480002162013-02-06T09:30:00.000-05:002013-02-23T12:35:14.686-05:00The kind of vacation that my husband would naturally plan<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My husband is going to El Salvador in about a week
with a friend to ride motorcycles in the jungle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The only problem I foresee is that my husband doesn’t
actually know how to ride a motorcycle and today he informed me that the tour
starts in the capital city. (Perhaps I
can check out a book on motorcycle riding for him from the library.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On the positive side his friend is fluent in
Spanish. They are staying with his
friend’s extended family who are planning on chauffeuring them around. And if someone isn’t available they can call “transportation”
and for 15 bucks they can ride in the back of a pickup anywhere within 2 hours! Hopefully they will be the first two picked
up and will therefore get the prime seat over the wheels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My husband’s friend’s wife Jackie has requested that
they return with fifty pounds of cheese*.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My biggest regret is that I am not going because I
believe that this vacation will be very entertaining. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">*Apparently the cheese is very good. I also requested some cheese to try; however,
I specifically said that fifty pounds was too much as I worried that they would
be unable to go through customs with two suitcases full of 100 pounds of really
good El Salvadorian cheese!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://lifeasthemotherof4.blogspot.com/2013/02/riding-motorcycles-in-jungle-day-1.html" target="_blank">Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 1</a></span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://lifeasthemotherof4.blogspot.com/2013/02/riding-motorcycles-in-jungle-day-2.html" target="_blank">Riding Motorcycles in the Jungle Day 2</a></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-4966298781466815372013-02-04T21:49:00.001-05:002013-02-04T22:23:36.141-05:00A Retainer<span style="line-height: 115%;">"Mom,
Bri is so lucky! She gets to wear a retainer!</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“Oh,
Elizabeth … maybe you’ll be ‘lucky’ and get braces then you’ll get a retainer
too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“Do
you hope so?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“No,
because braces cost about $6,000.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“Maybe
Bri can give me hers after she’s done with it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“No
because it won’t fit your mouth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“Are
you sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Should
I be worried that Bri will misplace her $500 retainer again?</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-79081271831728719382013-01-16T22:24:00.000-05:002013-01-16T22:24:00.060-05:00Raising Her Right<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Elizabeth was playing around in my
bedroom. She had a plastic pirate sword
in her hand. “Mom,” she said, “</span><span class="usercontent"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I'd like to get
better at sword fighting. When I get better can I get a sword for emergencies? To use against zombies or orcs."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">You
will obviously want to hang with us during the zombie apocalypse.*<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">*Ok,
well maybe not with Will because he and I will be eaten. (I already told my husband that Will and I
will leave the rest of the family to give them a better chance of
survival. He is after all as Eagle Scout
with mad 1980s survival skills!) But between
Jacob who has thought a LOT about surviving a zombie apocalypse and Elizabeth’s
plastic sword skills clearly they have a better than average chance of
survival. Unless they are World War Z zombies --
the ones from the movie not the book.
Because those zombies are fast!</span></span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-4493715685003940712013-01-13T19:12:00.000-05:002013-01-13T19:12:00.243-05:00The Official 2012 End Of Year Sum Up<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hello,</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I liked 2012. It treated us just fine. 2012 was full of kids, travel and spending
two months painting the outside of our house green (possibly a little too green
but I’m not going to repaint it!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Travel</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Costa Rica</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: I was my husband's plus one for his “work” trip to
Costa Rica and was able to check deep sea fishing and doing a zip line off my
bucket list.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">France and Spain</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: We took Brianne, Jacob, and Elizabeth to Europe for two weeks because my fantastic nephew David flew out to watch
William! I thought about taking Will but
decided that he would hate flying, waiting in lines, going to museums, walking
and eating non-preferred foods; and forcing him to go would result in multiple
sets of bloody arms. So, David took Will
to the beach, New York, 6 Flags while we were gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Surprisingly someone figured out we
were tourists in Paris and picked my husband’s pocket but thanks to a man<a href="http://lifeasthemotherof4.blogspot.com/2012/07/french-policeman-are-awesome.html" target="_blank"> we caught him</a> and he went to jail, and we got to ride in a speedy police car with sirens
blaring through red lights. This was
actually Elizabeth’s favorite thing about Europe. Our favorite city was <a href="http://lifeasthemotherof4.blogspot.com/2012/09/taragona-was-fantastic.html" target="_blank">Taragona</a> Spain which
had fantastic Roman ruins.
Unfortunately, we might have scared my children for life when we took
them to a beach because I forgot the whole “clothing optional” part of European
beaches and I got some wide-eyed distressed looks from my children and I spent
a lot of time apologizing and telling them to look in a different direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Jacob’s view of Europe can best be
summed up by his comment that he would have rather paid someone to paint our
house and not have gone. However, we
discovered that he likes escargot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Husband</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: 2012 cut his travel budget by 20% which I
thought was completely acceptable. He is
no longer a Scout Master and thus will spend 11 fewer nights sleeping on the
ground. Since he is old I think he’s ok
with that. He loves fishing and plans to
do a lot more in 2013.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Me</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Quit the Special Ed board in June because I got a big calling at church (I can only assume that everyone else they
asked said “no.”) I still volunteer at
the Y teaching two pre-school enrichment classes. I spend as much time as possible reading and
watching Love it or List it. I foolishly
thought painting our house would not be a big deal because my dad had us paint
our house twice while I lived at home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Brianne</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Turned 16!!!!
Now she can drive to school which makes her mother ecstatic! She is taking violin and has improved a lot
in the last two years. She is doing well
in school and joined the Key Club (maybe?) and the Human Rights club. She doesn’t have as much time to read this
year which makes her very sad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Jacob</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Is now in high
school. He is taking piano lessons,
hopefully will progress in scouts and wants to be a video game designer. He ran cross country this fall and will
probably do outdoor track in the spring.
He is working on improving his grades but strangely seems to prefer to
doing other things to studying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">William</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Is big, blond and
adorable! He likes school, reading,
writing stories, playing on his iPad and watching TV, previews and looking at
the scene sections pictures on movies.
We signed up for cable and I think whoever designed the DVR thought
“how can I drive the parents of autistic kids crazy?” “Oh, I know … I’ll design something that they
can rewind over and over again. Because,
come on, doesn’t everyone need to hear the opening song to a TV show again and
again and again!” Designer of the DVR –
actually the answer is no. <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Will has also recently decided
that church needs a little more applause and has started giving standing
ovations when people pray or sing solos in Sacrament Meeting. And
about half the time he sings his own lyrics during hymns.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Elizabeth</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Is super cute (I am possibly biased). She is in the 5<sup>th</sup> grade. She is doing really well learning the flute
and has played twice at church! This is
fantastic because she gets nervous so her flute teacher and I bribe her. She likes basketball, riding her bike,
playing games, Legos, going anywhere and helping her dad fix things. She is a great sport and is doing a lot better
this year doing her reading and homework.
(Now if she would only start sooner than 8:30pm life would be better.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Kitty</span></b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">: Continuing her career as mass murderer. (We have only seen 10 squirrels in our yard in two years and we don’t have mice in our shed anymore.) However, the children adore Bri’s cat because
she waits for their buses in the afternoon and walks them to the bus in the
morning. We recently installed a cat
door in the garage so she can kill animals more conveniently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">We hope that 2013 treats you well!</span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-31115350951807457682013-01-11T19:18:00.000-05:002013-01-11T19:18:00.251-05:00Pictures from Southern France<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfRvqKfd22-Mro03LrqupYEEf3JFNAN6gcAHWN8tNefL9WqILRM2e9N7PjWKBYweiLIo42l2cPSuEUqS2K3gs74JnPjAnV82Dkj436Vy-xPFdWmLuExfZus7bT3qBm44HN2NVSOdJzxE/s1600/IMG_0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfRvqKfd22-Mro03LrqupYEEf3JFNAN6gcAHWN8tNefL9WqILRM2e9N7PjWKBYweiLIo42l2cPSuEUqS2K3gs74JnPjAnV82Dkj436Vy-xPFdWmLuExfZus7bT3qBm44HN2NVSOdJzxE/s320/IMG_0576.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Chateau de Longecourt</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zEGgoRjucl451F9iU2tcdIuLlOxFxSt0SBbDqE_N_7jMFgXjEJkYquJYgV8GcqGEVPfUsDVSRGkCQ8I5YTdRkj0_vcZuwMQ-SVkG0qvOe7OR5sVHDOg5XuVlXM7-Mgu6vS3W41Mq96Y/s1600/IMG_0561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zEGgoRjucl451F9iU2tcdIuLlOxFxSt0SBbDqE_N_7jMFgXjEJkYquJYgV8GcqGEVPfUsDVSRGkCQ8I5YTdRkj0_vcZuwMQ-SVkG0qvOe7OR5sVHDOg5XuVlXM7-Mgu6vS3W41Mq96Y/s320/IMG_0561.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_g5AkxLE2lZnwd9dKd3sU8fTy6b4thtCPY874lPcChu_jNW8ukLrvMU-k3GLtUw7ZH2xhjyFafG45ZqSporedTa6XZusm4R7I5TCkBtC6nrudEDY0D6oFZDmPpawp0M-5TMTo6XTXos/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_g5AkxLE2lZnwd9dKd3sU8fTy6b4thtCPY874lPcChu_jNW8ukLrvMU-k3GLtUw7ZH2xhjyFafG45ZqSporedTa6XZusm4R7I5TCkBtC6nrudEDY0D6oFZDmPpawp0M-5TMTo6XTXos/s320/IMG_0563.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jacob is tough to impress</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGbltzqlpgVjMM4ucMUArM7C-SYxLlh52dmhMiWo-txufY0w0y7QJ2N0906GyRiOBi0hOYkC6WUaHiSE9Z4nH0rrtIOEiXtZtAeZwPFzGTmw9Wup0slBSl-BzHJVLLPbVtUcRmx7W0QI/s1600/IMG_0566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGbltzqlpgVjMM4ucMUArM7C-SYxLlh52dmhMiWo-txufY0w0y7QJ2N0906GyRiOBi0hOYkC6WUaHiSE9Z4nH0rrtIOEiXtZtAeZwPFzGTmw9Wup0slBSl-BzHJVLLPbVtUcRmx7W0QI/s320/IMG_0566.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Because livestock is what we came to Europe to see!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGkudZtRvVaQu1wUEvfLLDAwdYoY4mGLp3NULPdUg3HJfPTfiaa7HlMyCLWGwJTn02GHnZXRp2i_gjDQTYpjmgEA0PNrALOHDyX0diNNo9kGtUMUfMkCJ7KTlXa5o50q1K8fF4xBu6qW4/s1600/IMG_0588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGkudZtRvVaQu1wUEvfLLDAwdYoY4mGLp3NULPdUg3HJfPTfiaa7HlMyCLWGwJTn02GHnZXRp2i_gjDQTYpjmgEA0PNrALOHDyX0diNNo9kGtUMUfMkCJ7KTlXa5o50q1K8fF4xBu6qW4/s320/IMG_0588.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Colosseum in Nimes</div>
<br />Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-38540339754429336412013-01-09T17:15:00.000-05:002013-01-09T17:15:00.489-05:00Pictures from Paris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WNRfjuDID_tqfXOKsyQSq1Mqu3lxzJtIJyjjmeogUmp88ybszR0-7hMzhLNRdfIBhr5A5rQwvtv4NnyAFHywYwtD1JX68a89CRFk4AD12zKdeH4fPyoE1tBaFWaIVMp_kWs_rcCvFCc/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WNRfjuDID_tqfXOKsyQSq1Mqu3lxzJtIJyjjmeogUmp88ybszR0-7hMzhLNRdfIBhr5A5rQwvtv4NnyAFHywYwtD1JX68a89CRFk4AD12zKdeH4fPyoE1tBaFWaIVMp_kWs_rcCvFCc/s320/IMG_0422.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9jo1athm0IjHw-8zjwGK2LBpIL5Vn1Q5v9sFCNYDJ6VQOzjr9nKFlhfLvUnrC4D5ntV6G3RYq9t1qRb7_8PRhLtGGVBEGXTwfs2L5FvjRdo51UooRudp4Z8zpd9oPn8vDcVgJwmSKb4/s1600/IMG_0419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9jo1athm0IjHw-8zjwGK2LBpIL5Vn1Q5v9sFCNYDJ6VQOzjr9nKFlhfLvUnrC4D5ntV6G3RYq9t1qRb7_8PRhLtGGVBEGXTwfs2L5FvjRdo51UooRudp4Z8zpd9oPn8vDcVgJwmSKb4/s320/IMG_0419.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: start;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh894T7JMrXKneI3QHJj83hT5jTs-twaN6VQRZ39Qv9hag9HxYVt0NdqyT89lHmlTiEomqH7XaXcp1lNDuMfk-S5229790pCsk6lwARcSTjqrgNPSrHukMbQLn64q-zUAd6aANL5KdZ1Jc/s1600/IMG_0428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh894T7JMrXKneI3QHJj83hT5jTs-twaN6VQRZ39Qv9hag9HxYVt0NdqyT89lHmlTiEomqH7XaXcp1lNDuMfk-S5229790pCsk6lwARcSTjqrgNPSrHukMbQLn64q-zUAd6aANL5KdZ1Jc/s320/IMG_0428.JPG" width="320" /></a> At the Eiffel Tower</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFC2Be3yiJc9e0vrVGMionJZZ3hKsUcheKJ81N3CCEGZJ5oA5AMu17ETtsPPaJb_hSHjT5QhXSdOz5EYLjhSYoXn1Dw4kZZ5sNRnrYdsuPRJfQh86MfSXv0IifF7Gs83fGi7zYLRLosw/s1600/IMG_0453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFC2Be3yiJc9e0vrVGMionJZZ3hKsUcheKJ81N3CCEGZJ5oA5AMu17ETtsPPaJb_hSHjT5QhXSdOz5EYLjhSYoXn1Dw4kZZ5sNRnrYdsuPRJfQh86MfSXv0IifF7Gs83fGi7zYLRLosw/s320/IMG_0453.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Arc de Triomphe</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteY7cqUQXgjVFoLvDmYqbxeA08BLjLEixJG5K2MhVf9e6WJZUIZhGCEX0RegVqb2w80eOJa7xQ0wSaMk_JEczg5D5jkPMg5kXUMHqkrKGJkFt8C2ddyLpVGxT1AYEya1a-knTuFFbgTY/s1600/IMG_0472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteY7cqUQXgjVFoLvDmYqbxeA08BLjLEixJG5K2MhVf9e6WJZUIZhGCEX0RegVqb2w80eOJa7xQ0wSaMk_JEczg5D5jkPMg5kXUMHqkrKGJkFt8C2ddyLpVGxT1AYEya1a-knTuFFbgTY/s320/IMG_0472.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 34px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Close to the Jardin des Tuileries</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPK2Y64gk7Q2WpX1Zq1mCl8txcjEEA3FwSdFWlykWCI9sYTEupzTxyvGzNOIyBswsVXVhYm-iOV4XNOuEvs71fNGOAUyVdj1_Xc9NaC48VtFpkS-wVAbzb14zymq4rqG3bYZL6SASh6E/s1600/IMG_0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPK2Y64gk7Q2WpX1Zq1mCl8txcjEEA3FwSdFWlykWCI9sYTEupzTxyvGzNOIyBswsVXVhYm-iOV4XNOuEvs71fNGOAUyVdj1_Xc9NaC48VtFpkS-wVAbzb14zymq4rqG3bYZL6SASh6E/s320/IMG_0490.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Bateaux Mouches</div>
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<br />Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-4625478674649635012013-01-07T16:47:00.000-05:002013-01-07T16:47:00.314-05:00Snowmen<br />
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was upstairs in the living room when
I heard the front door open.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When it
didn’t shut I got up to investigate.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">William was standing under the front porch.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He was wearing Elizabeth’s straw hat over my
straw hat, snow boots, underpants and carrying two handfuls of baby carrots.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">“Do you want to make a snowman?” I asked him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I brought him inside and got some
clothes on him because that’s what good mothers do – they have their children
actually wear clothes outside in single digit weather! Boom! Instant
“Good Mother” right there!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Elizabeth, William and I went outside
to make a snowman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">New England snow is different. It’s usually heavy, wet, back breaking snow
that freezes the next day with a nice crunchy top. The kind of snow that turns to ice for skiing
– the way nature intended! But this snow
was different! It was powdery, even a
day later and it didn’t stick to anything, even itself. How annoying!
I tried to roll a ball – fail. I
tried to make a square with a shovel – fail.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The first time my autistic son requests
a snowman and the snow won’t cooperate?
No, it will cooperate I decided.
I went over to the mound I had shoveled off the driveway the day
before. I carefully cut out a bottom
square, then topped it with two more. We
put branches in for arms, twigs for lips, ice chunks for eyes and a carrot for
a nose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Best. Snowman. Ever.*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZrZGptCBXn-lGRZkKjpLufulB9w7ptypTVZ0bSUdi6y1D7BgCGTFenShdOs4-KCswN-NXO-ojC_EiZPEYX5aCGUq_vLEDKmuNtMRoeSCB_jeR3tV8ZTJ9AtJiVgOEwUgvOzndAIUwHnM/s1600/IMG_0787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZrZGptCBXn-lGRZkKjpLufulB9w7ptypTVZ0bSUdi6y1D7BgCGTFenShdOs4-KCswN-NXO-ojC_EiZPEYX5aCGUq_vLEDKmuNtMRoeSCB_jeR3tV8ZTJ9AtJiVgOEwUgvOzndAIUwHnM/s320/IMG_0787.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">*Well, not really.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-47212076132534290032013-01-05T16:21:00.002-05:002013-01-06T17:03:52.442-05:00They just keep on getting older, darn it!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Elizabeth turned 11 over Christmas
break. We went to a Japanese Grill for a
late lunch. Will loved watching the chef twirl and throw his
utensils but was a little disconcerted (he backed his chair up) when he saw the
fire shoot up in front of him. Naturally
that did not stop him from eating all his rice and both of his parents’ bowls
as well as half my meat. Strangely he
did not want to eat my vegetables. And
the staff sang Happy Birthday to Elizabeth and a Japanese song.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">For dinner we had birthday cake and ice
cream. Elizabeth got some more Toy Story
items to add to her collection and a remote control car which everyone has
enjoyed – even William drove it which is really cool!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span>
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Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-57698379201431562852012-12-06T21:01:00.000-05:002012-12-06T21:01:47.740-05:00Do you remember when I said that everything would be better when Bri got her license?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course, that’s true but … a new
question has come up.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The question being
how many tires can Bri take out within 6 days?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">(Hint:
If you note the question – it implies more than one occurrence.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Answer:
So far (and I mean that) 3. One
last Thursday and two on Wednesday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My husband just bought 4 tires and a spare
and a rim. I told him to keep the extra two
tires because that way she can blow out 3 more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And Bri doesn’t just put small holes in
tires. Touch your thumb to your first finger;
now open that up an inch. That was one
of the holes in the tire last Thursday. She
ran over something then she drove on it … for miles. One block from school she and Jacob noticed
that the car was tilted. We couldn’t get
the jack under it so we had to have it towed home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Wednesday she called again in the
morning. My husband went to look at the
car again. He recreated the accident by
following the plastic pieces. She hit
the curb, and then scraped a telephone pole -- taking out two tires and the
side view mirror in the process. Again we had the car towed home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But on a positive note she immediately
pulled onto a side street and parked the car.
And Jacob and she are getting mad tire changing skills!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-90193509679531066162012-11-06T09:43:00.003-05:002012-11-06T09:43:25.725-05:00Vote Obama!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/E8qZrf2EBpk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8658455529906475948.post-70608371491925233542012-11-01T09:22:00.000-04:002012-11-01T09:22:00.503-04:00Madrid<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We only
had one day to spend in Madrid … a Monday.
Everything closes in Europe on Monday.
So we couldn’t go to the museum we really wanted The Museum of the Americas. We were excited to see the treasure taken
from the Americas but it was closed so we made other plans. We started with churros con chocolate
at La Chocolateria San Gines. Just
imagine a pot of dark, rich, delicious chocolate! Honestly the best thing ever!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We visited the Royal Palace. </div>
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<a href="http://www.gothereguide.com/Images/Spain/Madrid/Royal_Palace_madrid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.gothereguide.com/Images/Spain/Madrid/Royal_Palace_madrid.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Image found <a href="http://www.gothereguide.com/Images/Spain/Madrid/Royal_Palace_madrid.jpg" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Elizabeth decided that she wanted a mansion too.</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.sprachcaffe.com/typo3temp/fl_realurl_image/travel-guide-madrid-8b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.sprachcaffe.com/typo3temp/fl_realurl_image/travel-guide-madrid-8b.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Image found <a href="http://www.sprachcaffe.com/english/cities/madrid.htm" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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Then we visited San Miguel Market
for lunch. I thought it would be more
like the Market Boquería and it wasn’t.
I was a little disappointed. We finished our day at <span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">Reina Sofía</span> because I wanted to see <i>Guernic.</i> I
didn’t love the museum and wished that I’d chosen to go to the Prado instead
but c’est la vie.<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Life as the mother of 4http://www.blogger.com/profile/16195257033811529612noreply@blogger.com0