tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21573139686107619962024-03-12T21:58:43.975-04:00loving albanyraising three little boys in a century old home in the annex.Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.comBlogger258125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-24844828003302025262016-02-21T23:47:00.001-05:002016-02-21T23:51:30.923-05:005 turns 10 turns 5Today is my baby's 5th birthday. Which is a total trick of the mind for me, because my oldest was five when my baby was born.<br />
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This was the old five.<br />
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And now the new five.<br />
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And the old five!<br />
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That's as good as it gets at old five, AKA ten. Ten! Oh my goodness, double digits.<br />
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But let's go back to the good old days.<br />
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They were made for each other.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ten and Five</td></tr>
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It blows my mind that my oldest was five when our family was complete. Today, my youngest is five. It's happy but sad. No more diapers! But no more babies. No more midnight wake-ups! But no more soft smells. No more 5-point harnesses! But no more help putting on seat belts. Oh my god...that last one is a god-send. <br />
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Jake loves George and George loves Jake. They look alike, they act alike and I think they have the same sensibility. They are brothers through and through.<br />
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But Henry loves George, too. He can't keep his right hand off of him.<br />
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And it's still the same to this day. He'll walk right up to him and put his hand on George's face for no reason at all. It must be a brother thing. Or just a Henry thing.<br />
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Either way...they are brothers, they run in a pack and they're getting so big.<br />
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Happy Birthday, my big boys. Here's to another five...and then some!!!<br />
<br />Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-44927386634617532342015-12-12T23:56:00.000-05:002015-12-12T23:56:33.371-05:00Thanksgiving Through The Eyes Of An 8-Year OldI consider my kids lucky because they have two Thanksgivings - Canadian and American. The tricky part about celebrating two? Ditching school in Canada for the American holiday. They're not old enough to miss too much, but a whole week away can interrupt things. So I always ask what homework we can bring along. This year, Henry's teacher said he needs to write every day and please keep a journal. <br />
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A journal. I love journals! I'm terrible about keeping one myself. But my kids love writing one when we go away. And I LOVE reading them when we get back! <br />
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Our Thanksgiving trip was no different. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day One</td></tr>
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His picture is perfect. We left for Niagara Falls right after school, so it got dark on the drive. But 3 hours was actually only 1-1/2. It's ok. He's 8. And although we met up with seven other people too, Uncle Joe is all that matters to him. <br />
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Great picture. We packed the car when we left the hotel, and all five of us helped do it. But this 3 hours was actually 4-1/2 to Ithaca, NY with a huge grocery stop along the way. <br />
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I agree. Pie Face was the highlight of the day.<br />
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We brought our footballs because I've created monsters and our boys are obsessed. It's for the best, though. Thursday nights, Monday nights and all day Sundays are exactly as they should be. Nothing but football on TV and everyone is happy. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Uncle and Bubba (Grandpa)</td></tr>
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This is his great uncle, my father's brother. He lives in Ithaca, NY and is the reason we spend Thanksgiving there each year. This was our 8th year celebrating in Ithaca and I can't ever imagine us not making the trip. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hike</td></tr>
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Oh we hiked. And hiked! We took all the kids who could walk (ages 9, 8, 4, 4, 2) and went to find the waterfall. Did we ever! But...this 3 hours was actually 1-1/2. Should I be worried? <br />
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The pictures don't do it justice. The gorges were breathtaking. The sound of rushing water was beautiful. And those chain link fences did a great job of keeping us all alive. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day Four</td></tr>
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Take careful notice of today's entry. No mention of turkey or family or even pumpkin pie. The highlight for this 8 year old was his brother's near death experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bridge</td></tr>
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Ok, it wasn't near death. It wasn't even really very close. It was a lapse in judgement that could have turned into a something bad, but it was over before it even started. One word: Boys.<br />
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See that bridge? See the people (us) on that bridge? And the gorge down below? We walked across the bridge, took a look around and decided to walk back. When we walked back, Jake went first and decided to climb up on the waist-high fence along the bridge to do pull-ups on the bar connected to the fence running along the other side of the bridge. The problem was...the fence was behind that tree you see on the right side of the bridge. Jake saw a fence next to a tree growing in dirt. We all saw a fence next to a 200 foot drop into a gorge. <br />
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Henry's picture captures it perfectly. My brother grabbed Jake before the word "Noooooo!!!" even started coming out of my mouth. It was slow motion. We all kinda felt like throwing up. <br />
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And then we walked home and ate turkey. <br />
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The day after Thanksgiving always includes a visit to my Aunt and Uncle's house in Ithaca. It happened to be a beautiful balmy day, so we had a big bonfire after our traditional Chinese take-out dinner. Highlight for sure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day Six</td></tr>
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Thank you, Henry. This 5 hours to drive home actually was about 5 hours, so now I'm not worried anymore. But maybe I should be worried that the highlight of the entire trip was McDonald's???<br />
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The highlights for me were definitely:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir4opRCzNAQ/VmzvbV0ofHI/AAAAAAAATow/tB9zR5hGNFg/s1600/IMG_6289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir4opRCzNAQ/VmzvbV0ofHI/AAAAAAAATow/tB9zR5hGNFg/s320/IMG_6289.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-azxVtdTAvp0/VmzvY_Z_cTI/AAAAAAAAToc/vC48ad5dqjo/s1600/IMG_6250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-azxVtdTAvp0/VmzvY_Z_cTI/AAAAAAAAToc/vC48ad5dqjo/s320/IMG_6250.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quiet Time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In no particular order ;)<br />
<br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-57112253227716674742015-10-30T20:31:00.000-04:002015-10-30T20:31:58.255-04:00And Then I Turned 40It was actually two weeks ago today. But I celebrated it with my husband three weeks ago today. And with my girlfriends a week and a half ago today. <br />
<br />
Yet, finally, today...I am really truly enjoying it. <br />
<br />
<br />
The best part? I celebrated my birthday day with my family. My mom, dad, brother and sister all came in town for the annual visit to celebrate Henry's birthday. So they all happened to be here on my day. Planned but not planned. Unintentional. But totally great. <br />
<br />
I made my better half take a picture of the five of us to mark the occasion. But because I'm old now, and it happened to be taken after dinner AND dessert, I'm just going to share the dessert picture.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yUQnbBZwp3I/VjQIynLGXzI/AAAAAAAAS00/c9Z2RnQrapk/s1600/IMG_5907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yUQnbBZwp3I/VjQIynLGXzI/AAAAAAAAS00/c9Z2RnQrapk/s320/IMG_5907.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4-O</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When my kids were little, we used to celebrate "donut day", which meant we ran to Tim Horton's every Saturday morning to get donuts. Now that they're getting bigger, "donut day" has gone to the wayside. But whenever my dad is in town, he keeps the tradition alive. So when he got a box of donuts that Friday afternoon, we couldn't help but use them as part of the celebration. <br />
<br />
Unintentionally totally great. Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-90154995839344860962015-09-10T22:50:00.000-04:002015-09-10T22:50:51.811-04:00And Then School StartedThe summer was long and short. I clearly remember the very last day of school, since it was just yesterday, saying to the handful of teachers I followed out the front door, "I can't wait until September 8!"<br />
<br />
Which was totally just yesterday. -ish.<br />
<br />
Anyway, on September 8, these fools started school.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zgx2aAF8Wqg/VfI79R8R6aI/AAAAAAAASdU/tU2IEMsjMh8/s1600/GHJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zgx2aAF8Wqg/VfI79R8R6aI/AAAAAAAASdU/tU2IEMsjMh8/s320/GHJ.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry, George, Jake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Jake is starting 4th grade, which is obviously as hilarious to him as it is to me. He's not almost 10. He's my baby that is now 100 lbs. In a size 5 1/2 shoe. Who is starting to smell stinky. See? He and I are doubled over in laughter.<br />
<br />
Henry is starting 3rd grade, which is clearly unbelievable to him, too. It's inconceivable that he's almost 8. Don't even try telling me he's going to learn cursive. And be part of organized sports at school. No. No way. Not happening.<br />
<br />
And on September 8, George wasn't starting school. But try telling him that. It didn't go over well...<br />
<br />
Instead, he started today.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R6TUUqROtjc/VfI79IJoE5I/AAAAAAAASdQ/NUpFKfwo-Rk/s1600/GHJ%2BBackpacks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R6TUUqROtjc/VfI79IJoE5I/AAAAAAAASdQ/NUpFKfwo-Rk/s320/GHJ%2BBackpacks.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THREE BACKPACKS!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today, I packed three backpacks. It was amazing. I will make three lunches every morning. I will! Because I am making three. All three. <br />
<br />
Did you hear me say three???<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jk0S1ey0I9s/VfI78CalJGI/AAAAAAAASdY/zXWFGmRyTH8/s1600/G%2BSign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jk0S1ey0I9s/VfI78CalJGI/AAAAAAAASdY/zXWFGmRyTH8/s320/G%2BSign.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When we got to school, of course he took the obligatory photo in front of the handmade school sign. <br />
<br />
Because...who doesn't want a picture in front of the handmade school sign?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3iONBnqVDg/VfI78JtqlII/AAAAAAAASdc/GdYKP4KV6RU/s1600/G%2BLine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3iONBnqVDg/VfI78JtqlII/AAAAAAAASdc/GdYKP4KV6RU/s320/G%2BLine.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Eyes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
His brothers bolted to their friends. So I took him by the hand to line up. Then tried to take a million pictures, of which none turned out. No kisses. No smiles. All business. Then I snuck this one of ol' blue eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ_1LupFp7s/VfI781O1w4I/AAAAAAAASdI/DX6vJZ1mAHQ/s1600/G.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ_1LupFp7s/VfI781O1w4I/AAAAAAAASdI/DX6vJZ1mAHQ/s320/G.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I Got This</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
His teacher led the line inside, and he followed the girl in front of him to the double doors. I called his name and he turned around. Typical George. The eyebrow. Just like his dad. I sent this picture to my mom and she spotted it right away.<br />
<br />
I spent the day working at home, but thought about George ALL DAY. Surely he peed in his pants. I bet he got tired or bored and started whining & crying. Which little kid did he pick a fight with...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-Rm9ahI1jU/VfI78NrqlrI/AAAAAAAASdM/PYLA5oPo9mE/s1600/G%2BPickup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-Rm9ahI1jU/VfI78NrqlrI/AAAAAAAASdM/PYLA5oPo9mE/s320/G%2BPickup.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickup</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Mom! I had a cupcake because today was my friend's birthday!"<br />
<br />
Now, that's the best first day ever.Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-2668897216294914062015-07-08T11:31:00.003-04:002015-07-08T11:31:50.988-04:00We Went To Spain - Part 1I turn 40 this Fall. So for the last almost 3 years, I've been
saving up for my 40th birthday trip to Spain. With the whole family.
Kids included. I know. Everyone did a double take when I told them.
Kids too? Kids too.<br />
<br />
So. Great. Loved. It.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mzf5aF1miUw/VZywvF8jGtI/AAAAAAAAK-Y/3mFPxpqRQbE/s1600/IMG_3151.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mzf5aF1miUw/VZywvF8jGtI/AAAAAAAAK-Y/3mFPxpqRQbE/s320/IMG_3151.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 backpacks, 3 suitcases, 2 computer bags, 1 purse</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We did so much. Here's part one.<br />
<br />
Part
one includes visiting my oldest dearest friend, Maria. She was a
foreign exchange student that stayed with my family the summer after I
graduated 8th grade. The story goes...I was all signed up and ready to
study French in my first year of high school. But after her visit, I
changed to Spanish and spent a month the following summer with her in
Spain. A few years later, she stayed with us again, I stayed with her
again, and the rest is history.<br />
<br />
Which means...we have far too many embarrassing photos of each other.<br />
<br />
So, of course, our trip to Spain included visiting Maria immediately.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xsSHACdSpvU/VZywR_r4obI/AAAAAAAAK-A/FDbGoxutxEg/s1600/001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xsSHACdSpvU/VZywR_r4obI/AAAAAAAAK-A/FDbGoxutxEg/s320/001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maria, my boys, Plaza Mayor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Surreal. My friend, my places, my
memories...all coming back to me with my kids at my side. Worlds
colliding. Ice cream in Plaza Mayor. Best day ever.<br />
<br />
Until the next day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kGcuTVv6p04/VZywPzf4j_I/AAAAAAAAK90/SynM61jtmSs/s1600/002.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kGcuTVv6p04/VZywPzf4j_I/AAAAAAAAK90/SynM61jtmSs/s320/002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McDonald's Espana</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When we had McDonald's for lunch. I was
told the ketchup tastes different and so do the burgers, kind of. But
the fries? Same. :)<br />
<br />
And then we visited Maria's ranch and had a tour. In case my worlds weren't colliding enough already.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maJXkcBWsw8/VZywSmA-77I/AAAAAAAAK-E/_kcJJtWkBm8/s1600/003.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maJXkcBWsw8/VZywSmA-77I/AAAAAAAAK-E/_kcJJtWkBm8/s320/003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very very close up view.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Maria's family raises hundreds of cattle.
Most for meat, some for bullfighting. We saw them all. In a ranch
truck, without seatbelts, communicating in different languages.
(Maria's dad speaks no English - my kids speak no Spanish) It was
amazing. The words were there - but they weren't. It didn't matter.
Which brought me back to the first time I visited their ranch and had NO
idea what her mom and dad were saying to me. Did I mention my worlds
were colliding? <br />
<br />
And the next day...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EyzJ1R58HzI/VZywT-A-N2I/AAAAAAAAK-M/a8QVnDeiUpk/s1600/004.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EyzJ1R58HzI/VZywT-A-N2I/AAAAAAAAK-M/a8QVnDeiUpk/s320/004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Tentadero - Maria's brother Curro</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They hosted a beautiful party. In English
terms: it was an event to test brave cows and determine which are
suited to be sold for meat or kept to bear bulls for bullfighting. No
cows were hurt in the tentadero. But the boys got a bird's eye view of a
bullring, even standing behind a wall inside the ring. Worlds
colliding...!!!<br />
<br />
In the end, we got to stage a few pictures.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-28uQZOQZ7q0/VZywUt4-GNI/AAAAAAAAK-U/x-CIR7JIqoI/s1600/005.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-28uQZOQZ7q0/VZywUt4-GNI/AAAAAAAAK-U/x-CIR7JIqoI/s320/005.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toreros</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
These guys may not be torero material, but this one might be a framer.<br />
<br />
<br />Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-21670902836096972472015-05-23T23:11:00.000-04:002015-05-23T23:12:17.109-04:00Featuring...The Front GardenHow long has it been? Too long. <br />
<br />
I got a job! A wonderful, flexible, perfect part-time job. I love it. It's hourly. I work from home, I can volunteer at the school occasionally and I pick the kids up every single day. Heaven!<br />
<br />
But it's not very conducive to blogging. Sorry, dad.<br />
<br />
So now that I've explained where I've been...how about I show one of the (few) projects we've done lately?!?<br />
<br />
Like I said, it's been too long. Way too long. Last summer, we <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/07/cant-stop-wont-stop.html" target="_blank">demolished</a> and <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/08/progress-on-porch.html" target="_blank">rebuilt our porch</a>. Then we <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/09/perfect-porch-paint.html" target="_blank">got as far as painting it</a>...and stopped. Which was fine - it was September. The garden can wait. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hXFlIFwF11o/VWE2TXSItPI/AAAAAAAAK8E/0kBBYDv1yEM/s1600/IMG_0422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="249" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hXFlIFwF11o/VWE2TXSItPI/AAAAAAAAK8E/0kBBYDv1yEM/s320/IMG_0422.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painted...and done.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Here's October. Which is exactly how it looked the following April. A bunch of dirt and some leaves.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHp4c8vkq6Q/VWE2TWO4eXI/AAAAAAAAK8A/ZovTZLnROdg/s1600/IMG_1057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHp4c8vkq6Q/VWE2TWO4eXI/AAAAAAAAK8A/ZovTZLnROdg/s320/IMG_1057.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Until last weekend, when the kids went to Grandma's house for a Victoria Day mega-sleepover!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d290eOmWd_k/VWE2T8mlpcI/AAAAAAAAK8I/mW7LQD5jMk8/s1600/IMG_3038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d290eOmWd_k/VWE2T8mlpcI/AAAAAAAAK8I/mW7LQD5jMk8/s320/IMG_3038.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I decided to keep it simple. No flowers. Low maintenance. Modern-ish.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ErlbRvSPRys/VWE2UeW8pJI/AAAAAAAAK8U/zuTi61dnOoM/s1600/IMG_3040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ErlbRvSPRys/VWE2UeW8pJI/AAAAAAAAK8U/zuTi61dnOoM/s320/IMG_3040.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hakonechloa macra "All Gold"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In the front, I chose a shade tolerant yellow ornamental grass. Yellow, because it POPS in front of the green porch. Shade tolerant, because the front garden gets minimal direct sunlight. <br />
<br />
It faces east, so it gets morning sun...which the car mostly blocks since it's against our parking pad. I learned long ago, don't fight the sunlight your garden gets - work with it. So with any luck, this variety of Japanese forest grass should be happy here. <br />
<br />
And if it's happy, I sure will be too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dRDx7A1t458/VWE2UBai2bI/AAAAAAAAK8M/sArrBgrwaEg/s1600/IMG_3039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dRDx7A1t458/VWE2UBai2bI/AAAAAAAAK8M/sArrBgrwaEg/s320/IMG_3039.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buxus "Green Gem"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Behind that, I chose a row of boxwood bushes. This variety, "Green Gem", is different because it tolerates full sun/full shade. I've planted other bushes here over the last decade. Some have worked (hydrangea, variegated dogwood - kind of) and some have not (spirea, burning bush - never turned red in fall, and countless full-sun/part-shade perennials). Sunlight has been the problem. So finding a variety that can tolerate a full range of light gives me hope these will survive, too. <br />
<br />
I stressed and slept on and changed my mind and revisited and reconfirmed my simple plan for two rows of bushes and grasses. A few times. Multiple times. Then one more time. But when the boys were gone and we had a few open hours, Steve decided to pull the trigger. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IfC8LQkk79k/VWE2UizTTKI/AAAAAAAAK8g/H_EmtAu23Vk/s1600/IMG_3041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IfC8LQkk79k/VWE2UizTTKI/AAAAAAAAK8g/H_EmtAu23Vk/s320/IMG_3041.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newly Planted</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We visited our local nursery and almost fainted at the prices. So right then and there, in the 'ornamental grasses' section, we googled a nursery outside the city and took a little trip. Best decision ever. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.islingtonnurseries.com/" target="_blank">Islington Nurseries</a> had a variety of boxwoods in a smaller size (which were 20% off at the register - surprise!) and multiple containers of the grass at a better price than downtown. <br />
<br />
Sold!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRSTt4zdNg0/VWE2UvEJ35I/AAAAAAAAK8c/LuHXxPn6D9k/s1600/IMG_3043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRSTt4zdNg0/VWE2UvEJ35I/AAAAAAAAK8c/LuHXxPn6D9k/s320/IMG_3043.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loooove!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Combined with the pop of color at the door in the background, I just love pulling up to our house. The front garden is complete. Finally!!!!<br />
<br />Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-27370871851299398492015-04-16T13:34:00.001-04:002015-04-16T13:35:12.448-04:00Fiddle Leaf Figs Do Not Like MeI love to garden. I can't wait to dive into my backyard and get dirty. I don't have a black thumb. <br />
<br />
But fiddle leaf figs do not like me. <br />
<br />
Actually, I think they just don't like my bay window. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7S_003vjQAs/VS_sILpzPhI/AAAAAAAAK08/OhWFN9aJDX8/s1600/IMG_8291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7S_003vjQAs/VS_sILpzPhI/AAAAAAAAK08/OhWFN9aJDX8/s1600/IMG_8291.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fig #1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It faces north. It gets little indirect light. The semi-transparent shades that hide the neighbors' cluttered backyards don't help.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wa_jA5O-kdE/VS_sH0HqzCI/AAAAAAAAK00/MZ0SIYOdrzY/s1600/IMG_8287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wa_jA5O-kdE/VS_sH0HqzCI/AAAAAAAAK00/MZ0SIYOdrzY/s1600/IMG_8287.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fig #2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But the first one lasted almost a year. So I <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/06/still-on-fig-wagon.html" target="_blank">got a 2nd one</a>. And then it died.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D_9tDlFhFUo/VS_sFjIhJMI/AAAAAAAAK0Q/n9SywjZsCLA/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D_9tDlFhFUo/VS_sFjIhJMI/AAAAAAAAK0Q/n9SywjZsCLA/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I'll spare you the sadness.<br />
<br />
I swore off plants. Nothing alive will live here. Instead, I started googling other options. Artwork. Sculptures. DIY something! Nothing inspired me.<br />
<br />
But then I remembered <a href="https://instagram.com/p/zFmiVQns4O/?taken-by=modernjane" target="_blank">Modern Jane's Instagram shot</a> of a vase filled with greenery. No flowers. Just green. Yes, it's alive...but how much light could simple greenery need...???<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wZkC6fLHA9Y/VS_sFjI8GlI/AAAAAAAAK0I/NMrTHctEcRI/s1600/IMG_2742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wZkC6fLHA9Y/VS_sFjI8GlI/AAAAAAAAK0I/NMrTHctEcRI/s1600/IMG_2742.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
The very next day, a West Elm coupon landed in my inbox. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P4sAiWeajTs/VS_sGTuK_2I/AAAAAAAAK0Y/eCNqgqvbosI/s1600/IMG_2744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P4sAiWeajTs/VS_sGTuK_2I/AAAAAAAAK0Y/eCNqgqvbosI/s1600/IMG_2744.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Isn't that awesome? Such a great view through those shades. Light be damned, I can't live without those shades. <br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2SLwc4ObUbE/VS_sGpM5z6I/AAAAAAAAK0g/WHkM-3-TsZM/s1600/IMG_2772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2SLwc4ObUbE/VS_sGpM5z6I/AAAAAAAAK0g/WHkM-3-TsZM/s1600/IMG_2772.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
And I filled those vases with something tall, something ferny and something small. I need the height in this window. Anything short looks really awful. Filling the space at least 3/4 high is a must. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The vases were an investment. But the branches and greenery? So cheap! That bundle of branches was $15. $15!!!! You can guess how much those little green sprigs cost. Less than a latte.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OqHCUL__mBg/VS_sHDJMNcI/AAAAAAAAK0k/nmLE4ES2L6s/s1600/IMG_2776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OqHCUL__mBg/VS_sHDJMNcI/AAAAAAAAK0k/nmLE4ES2L6s/s1600/IMG_2776.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherry Blossoms</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The branches are blooming. I guess I got flowers, afterall. She said low light would be fine, they just might not open up...but I see some!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbyRs7ltoWk/VS_sHRN776I/AAAAAAAAK0o/jUsqn-c2C34/s1600/IMG_2777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbyRs7ltoWk/VS_sHRN776I/AAAAAAAAK0o/jUsqn-c2C34/s1600/IMG_2777.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I can almost ignore what's outside that window. Almost. Just look for little flowers.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lwnhDNEM_Y/VS_sHohCGKI/AAAAAAAAK0s/-vabpN1YBZc/s1600/IMG_2778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lwnhDNEM_Y/VS_sHohCGKI/AAAAAAAAK0s/-vabpN1YBZc/s1600/IMG_2778.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the entryway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I left the price tags on the vases, just in case. I wavered between loving the new setup and feeling like I lived in a West Elm store when I walked into my house. <br />
<br />
But after a few days, when Steve noticed I made the change, he gave me a thumbs up. I think those vases are staying ;) <br />
<br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-72406420400887531032015-03-24T14:00:00.000-04:002015-03-24T14:00:09.822-04:00Easy-To-Change Artwork DisplayMy last post was a <a href="http://4mothers1blog.com/2015/03/11/diy-hook-it-upbut-not-forever-guest-post-by-meg-gardner/" target="_blank">guest post</a> about my oldest son's decorating skills in his own (new) room. And how I cringed. Then got inspired. And thought about more...<br />
<br />
Here's more!<br />
<br />
First. Let's recall.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XkQ3Nfjtq90/VRGfq4zBRfI/AAAAAAAAKzw/acW93qY730o/s1600/photo%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XkQ3Nfjtq90/VRGfq4zBRfI/AAAAAAAAKzw/acW93qY730o/s1600/photo%2B2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMIzmia5aW0/VRGfeEuji7I/AAAAAAAAKyg/7Imr6LBr9mI/s1600/head%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMIzmia5aW0/VRGfeEuji7I/AAAAAAAAKyg/7Imr6LBr9mI/s1600/head%2B1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
So. Much. Better.<br />
Even close up! <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lh8Qk4cxwBo/VRGfeFrl8RI/AAAAAAAAKyc/T9QQyw3qlug/s1600/head%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lh8Qk4cxwBo/VRGfeFrl8RI/AAAAAAAAKyc/T9QQyw3qlug/s1600/head%2B2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
I've created a monster. It's my own doing. I'm okay with it. Repeat.<br />
<br />
Repeat? Yes! Other side of the room? Why not! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KUl5LTwpquo/VRGfezV-l8I/AAAAAAAAKzc/pWW1VD_b3_E/s1600/wall%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KUl5LTwpquo/VRGfezV-l8I/AAAAAAAAKzc/pWW1VD_b3_E/s1600/wall%2B1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ro6dcXVpLZU/VRGfe0PvbJI/AAAAAAAAKys/HvGkpAZ80ag/s1600/wall%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ro6dcXVpLZU/VRGfe0PvbJI/AAAAAAAAKys/HvGkpAZ80ag/s1600/wall%2B2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Again. BETTER. <br />
<br />
Waaaaay better than a calendar duct taped to the wall. That was the before-before picture I missed. I was too busy slowly peeling back tape hoping it wouldn't take strips of drywall with it. Ugh. <br />
<br />
So this wall. Same painted wood with hooks and command strips as before. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ld9gC6JloSk/VRGffJydh1I/AAAAAAAAKyw/XvE35l5fY4I/s1600/wall%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ld9gC6JloSk/VRGffJydh1I/AAAAAAAAKyw/XvE35l5fY4I/s1600/wall%2B3.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Plus a ledge. IKEA's <a href="http://www.ikea.com/ca/en/catalog/products/50152595/" target="_blank">RIBBA</a> picture ledge. I didn't use command strips there. Just 3 screws into the wall, one into a stud. The frames are much heavier than paper with a bulldog clip, so I didn't want to risk it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8K9CsWy7hjg/VRGfflILvCI/AAAAAAAAKy8/yG_K0I6pLGE/s1600/wall%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8K9CsWy7hjg/VRGfflILvCI/AAAAAAAAKy8/yG_K0I6pLGE/s1600/wall%2B4.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
It's perfectly shallow enough for this wall in this room. Because there ain't much space between the foot of the bed and that wall. There's enough. But no extra. It's perfect!<br />
<br />
More close up? Yes! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XCjjjJjScUI/VRGffo9XerI/AAAAAAAAKzE/GC9nOmFywkc/s1600/wall%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XCjjjJjScUI/VRGffo9XerI/AAAAAAAAKzE/GC9nOmFywkc/s1600/wall%2B5.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z04lGpHaRUs/VRGfgK6tQ4I/AAAAAAAAKzM/MevNDsdHNpA/s1600/wall%2B6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z04lGpHaRUs/VRGfgK6tQ4I/AAAAAAAAKzM/MevNDsdHNpA/s1600/wall%2B6.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
It perfectly hides the outlet and cat5 connection for a future TV. (All our bedrooms have this now and it's dreamy. The bedrooms on the 2nd floor have them in the middle of the wall instead of at the baseboard so we can mount a TV without seeing wires.) I made sure to space out the hooks above them so a double-wide art collage can cover them. <br />
<br />
Because a 9-year old doesn't need a TV...yet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1w_hO_X5Kdg/VRGfgi50FPI/AAAAAAAAKzo/7HILK5zRYfc/s1600/wall%2B7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1w_hO_X5Kdg/VRGfgi50FPI/AAAAAAAAKzo/7HILK5zRYfc/s1600/wall%2B7.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
I chose the ledge because having framed photos is just as important as his art. And he can change the pictures out as he wants. But who's gonna swap out a signed photograph from #70 TJ Lang?!?!<br />
<br />
Really. Who's the monster here?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zduHo1wvfTU/VRGfg5Oo9UI/AAAAAAAAKzY/7ufyXRstAr8/s1600/wall%2B8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zduHo1wvfTU/VRGfg5Oo9UI/AAAAAAAAKzY/7ufyXRstAr8/s1600/wall%2B8.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
We still need to put something in that upper left corner. I'm thinking a clock. Something big? Silly? Modern? He was thinking a Green Bay Packers wall decal. <br />
<br />
I know who the monster is...!!! <br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-47034717814513397962015-03-11T13:41:00.000-04:002015-03-11T13:41:27.492-04:00Guest Post: Hook It Up!I'm <a href="http://4mothers1blog.com/2015/03/11/diy-hook-it-upbut-not-forever-guest-post-by-meg-gardner/" target="_blank">guest postin</a>g over on <a href="http://4mothers1blog.com/" target="_blank">4mothers1blog</a> again!<br />
<br />
It's a follow up to my <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2015/02/jakes-room.html" target="_blank">last post</a> on Jake's "new" room and the pictures he randomly taped to the wall. <br />
<br />
Sometimes inspiration hits at the perfect moment. And sometimes it works out so well, you need another post to show how you've used it further. Stay tuned...!Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-13465560236872521502015-02-18T13:02:00.000-05:002015-03-11T13:41:35.851-04:00Jake's Room...?!?!I find being a stay at home mom is rewarding because your boss (kids) are ones you love (mostly) and the work is steady (until they fire you). As if turning 9 wasn't enough, I feel like my term of employment is ending soon with the oldest. He's got his own room.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T81boSvbldc/VOTM-y1JMQI/AAAAAAAAKw4/Ef3Em94il9s/s1600/new%2Blamp%2Bin%2Broom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T81boSvbldc/VOTM-y1JMQI/AAAAAAAAKw4/Ef3Em94il9s/s1600/new%2Blamp%2Bin%2Broom.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Guest Room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Pardon this super old, pre-reno, spring-in-the-window-is-mocking-you picture of the guest room. This is the tiny 3rd bedroom we have on our 2nd floor. It's next to the bathroom, to the right at the top of the main staircase. It's the room my parents stay in when they visit, but otherwise it's empty. <br />
<br />
(I can't believe I didn't have a real "before" picture of this room taken after the reno. I feel like I've photographed every inch of the finished project to death. I searched!! But, to be honest, this room changed the least from before to after the renovation. A new window, new light fixture and a few throw pillows are all that were different. There's your visual.) <br />
<br />
Empty, until one night when the 3 boys sleeping in the same room wouldn't fall asleep. <br />
<br />
Me: That's it. Jake, sleep in the spare room.<br />
<br />
Jake: No! I don't want to!!!<br />
<br />
Me: I'm sorry, but you have to do it. <i>whisper: I think you might like it.</i><br />
<br />
And then he kinda moved in.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEOaAztDTwA/VOTM-kNUGRI/AAAAAAAAKww/tKHahsTAcS4/s1600/jakes%2Broom%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEOaAztDTwA/VOTM-kNUGRI/AAAAAAAAKww/tKHahsTAcS4/s1600/jakes%2Broom%2B1.jpg" height="320" width="262" /></a></div>
<i> </i><br />
While I appreciate all the details you can see in this picture...his toddler bedspread, his old pillow, alarm clock, hats, sports stuff and random picture taped to the wall...something more permanent had to be done. <br />
<br />
So we hit IKEA.<br />
<br />
Now, Jake is my son with a mind of his own. We didn't walk in cold turkey. That would mean the first item he saw in each department would come home with us. Oh no. I had a strategy. And that strategy was browsing the catalog first. When I turned the page to a dresser, I pointed one out to him.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CwXItuEdeJA/VOTNZ2BpfRI/AAAAAAAAKxI/vGl7agJCN5M/s1600/jakes%2Bdresser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CwXItuEdeJA/VOTNZ2BpfRI/AAAAAAAAKxI/vGl7agJCN5M/s1600/jakes%2Bdresser.jpg" height="320" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Assembling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He loved it. Then we went to the store and he searched for it. He helped me put it in the cart, load it into the car and put it together (mostly) until I fired him for slacking. Actually, he heard the Spongebob opening song on the TV downstairs and disappeared. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8dc3kqjXXvQ/VOTM-3Ne3vI/AAAAAAAAKw0/osN1xO1jyEc/s1600/jakes%2Broom%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8dc3kqjXXvQ/VOTM-3Ne3vI/AAAAAAAAKw0/osN1xO1jyEc/s1600/jakes%2Broom%2B2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So Far, So Good</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's a nice pop of color in the corner of the room. And the dimensions are perfect. Plus, he's a kid and I need furniture that's not precious. And bedding that's not precious...which he also picked out.<br />
<br />
Because those pictures move everyday and I don't want to care where that tape ends up.<br />
<br />
Which is my next challenge for this room...!Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-81568024980506642462015-02-06T14:15:00.000-05:002015-02-18T13:03:58.972-05:00The Newborn is 9So, just yesterday my firstborn arrived. Well, that's what it feels like. Except yesterday he was 8. And today he's 9.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWHDBWbSDvU/VNUPGVcsn3I/AAAAAAAAKvs/gwOJ3U9gF3I/s1600/Jake%2B9%2Binsta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWHDBWbSDvU/VNUPGVcsn3I/AAAAAAAAKvs/gwOJ3U9gF3I/s1600/Jake%2B9%2Binsta.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attitude</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But I swear this was yesterday. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qBHau5QQO64/VNUPHLx8vxI/AAAAAAAAKv4/dH1aSe3ti3M/s1600/jake%2Bnewborn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qBHau5QQO64/VNUPHLx8vxI/AAAAAAAAKv4/dH1aSe3ti3M/s1600/jake%2Bnewborn.jpg" height="320" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newborn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Because I can remember him creeping.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RU1gUdZ6RBQ/VNUPG3RHXbI/AAAAAAAAKv0/ggrN9LvCz7Q/s1600/jake%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RU1gUdZ6RBQ/VNUPG3RHXbI/AAAAAAAAKv0/ggrN9LvCz7Q/s1600/jake%2B1.jpg" height="320" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1 Year Old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And learning to count.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_WT9wwkgfY/VNUPFgUM_mI/AAAAAAAAKvc/gZyinxYg0Zg/s1600/Jake%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_WT9wwkgfY/VNUPFgUM_mI/AAAAAAAAKvc/gZyinxYg0Zg/s1600/Jake%2B3.jpg" height="320" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 Years Old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And cutting his hair too short.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hrn_p2NDGVw/VNUPF9osbgI/AAAAAAAAKvo/xA1dSh8436A/s1600/Jake%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hrn_p2NDGVw/VNUPF9osbgI/AAAAAAAAKvo/xA1dSh8436A/s1600/Jake%2B5.jpg" height="320" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 Years Old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Or leaving it go too long.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hNuxIOfQdFs/VNUPFyOfdUI/AAAAAAAAKvg/UDt_GB_1TyU/s1600/Jake%2B7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hNuxIOfQdFs/VNUPFyOfdUI/AAAAAAAAKvg/UDt_GB_1TyU/s1600/Jake%2B7.jpg" height="320" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7 Years Old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But now I'll always remember his last night of 8.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k6z4gx-9-64/VNUPE6a95dI/AAAAAAAAKvM/r15yIOH8l08/s1600/IMG_2120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k6z4gx-9-64/VNUPE6a95dI/AAAAAAAAKvM/r15yIOH8l08/s1600/IMG_2120.jpg" height="320" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">8 Years and 364 Days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Those 9 years went by in a flash. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sMH1cg23fV0/VNUPE_pataI/AAAAAAAAKvQ/9quUDOK4OXU/s1600/IMG_2130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sMH1cg23fV0/VNUPE_pataI/AAAAAAAAKvQ/9quUDOK4OXU/s1600/IMG_2130.jpg" height="320" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">9 Years Old - No Smiling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So we went out for pizza at lunchtime :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HiJUndM603Y/VNUPFFFm38I/AAAAAAAAKvU/HuhltZZRIls/s1600/IMG_2132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HiJUndM603Y/VNUPFFFm38I/AAAAAAAAKvU/HuhltZZRIls/s1600/IMG_2132.jpg" height="320" width="277" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy Birthday, my Jake. I'm saving my tears for double digits!!<br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-76720500042622202015-01-30T14:05:00.000-05:002015-02-18T13:03:51.671-05:00Growing Like WeedsThe days are long, but the years are short. <br />
<br />
I am living this cliche. I think it happened somewhere during the holidays. Visiting with friends and family you haven't seen in a while who all say: "Wow, your boys are getting so big!" "Oh my gosh, Jake is so tall now." "Henry's catching up to his older brother!" "George sure isn't a baby anymore." <br />
<br />
Then in mid-January, we started back up at the community center. We hadn't been there since last spring, but this mom needed after school sports classes for some energetic boys. It just so happened that their favorite counselor is scheduled to work the nights we're there. They've known him since Jake was 3, Henry 2 and before George was a thought. The look on his face when he saw the boys again was utter shock. It was then I realized they really are growing up.<br />
<br />
Literally. Jake is now less than a foot shorter than that counselor. !!!<br />
<br />
These weeds are growing in many other ways, too....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E92YPSYPfM0/VMqFM1t0mLI/AAAAAAAAKuo/n2ct6oEfqXw/s1600/georgetoilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E92YPSYPfM0/VMqFM1t0mLI/AAAAAAAAKuo/n2ct6oEfqXw/s1600/georgetoilet.jpg" height="320" width="296" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Someone's potty trained. Halle-frickin-lujah. <br />
<br />
I am not a master in potty training. I actually hate it. Diapers are a pain in the neck, but oh so convenient. It's a beautiful thing when you don't have to navigate public bathrooms with a child who touches everything on, around or near a toilet when peeing. Not to mention the standoff I had with my oldest when trying to potty train him at 2-1/2 or 3 years old because everyone said I should. It was hell. So I gave up, let it go, and made sure he could do it by the time Kindergarten came around. And he did it. In one weekend.<br />
<br />
I have no idea how Henry did it. Poor middle child.<br />
<br />
But George? I think he could have done it for months already. He only needed some underwear of his own to get him going. He started the first week of January and just did it. Only one accident last week...he was having too much fun playing with his toys downstairs, so he forgot and soaked his pants. Won't do that again! Lately, even his overnight pull-up is dry in the morning.<br />
<br />
Finally. After 9 years of diapers, we are almost done.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SY4NHu_6m6c/VMqFM4SCpgI/AAAAAAAAKus/Z6Q2piMDjUg/s1600/henryshaving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SY4NHu_6m6c/VMqFM4SCpgI/AAAAAAAAKus/Z6Q2piMDjUg/s1600/henryshaving.jpg" height="307" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Then there's this kid. Henry has a lot of scratches on his face at all times. He's the lover. He needs to kiss, hug and be close to someone every minute of his life. Unfortunately, that person is usually George. And George lets Henry know he doesn't like it. But Henry doesn't listen. His heart won't let him. So George pushes and pushes and pushes away until he scratches. Poor Henry. It's not good. That scratch on his cheek is a scar. But it's hard to blame George when I see him being suffocated. By love. Oh my heart!<br />
<br />
But those scratches under his nose? Not from George. See, Henry is also curious. You can warn him, beg him, even tell him directly not to do something, but he will do it. He has to figure it out for himself. When Henry wandered upstairs to find a band-aid (also not George related), he was gone for a long time. Then he came back downstairs with those marks on his face.<br />
<br />
Me: Hey! What happened to your lip? What are those marks?<br />
Henry: Oh nothing. I bumped into something.<br />
Me: What? When? Just now?<br />
Henry: Yeah! It's fine. It doesn't hurt.<br />
Me: I don't understand. What did you bump into?<br />
Henry: Nothing! It's fine! Really!!!<br />
Me: <i>(getting up from the couch)</i> Show me.<br />
<br />
He leads me to the bathroom, pulls out the toothbrush drawer and picks up Steve's razor. My eyes get really big. He shows and tells me how he went up his cheek, down his other cheek and then (in a fast voice) "went side-to-side" on his upper lip. Aaaaaah! Did it hurt? "Yeah." Are you ever going to do that again? "No!!!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sTmc5eMaf9k/VMqFNfYRJ8I/AAAAAAAAKu0/SVlyqYhTDsw/s1600/jakeconcert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sTmc5eMaf9k/VMqFNfYRJ8I/AAAAAAAAKu0/SVlyqYhTDsw/s1600/jakeconcert.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
And this kid. The eldest. His behavior's been off lately. So over the holidays, I googled "9-year old behavior". He's almost 9. Actually, in two weeks he's 9. Wait, one week from today. Jesus Christ, he's almost 9. I have a 9-year old. What the hell happened???<br />
<br />
So when I googled, the responses were "pre-teen" this and "pre-teen" that. Wait, whaaaa??? Pre-teen is 9? Well, yeah, the pre-teen age group is 9-12, especially when referring to behavior. So we have a pre-teen. Jesus *%^#*$^ Christ!!!! A pre-teen!!!! I'm not ready.<br />
<br />
But he is.<br />
<br />
Before the school winter break was over, I went to a brunch at a friend's house. She lives in the neighborhood, but a few good, long blocks away. As soon as I got there, I realized I forgot something at home. An ingredient for the sparkly drink. It wasn't worth leaving the party to get it. But I felt bad for forgetting. So I texted Steve: "get Jake to bring it over!" <br />
<br />
It was perfect. He was home. I was there. We both had our phones. We knew how long it would take him. Jake could walk from home to me and back while Steve and I texted his departure and arrival. And...his route would be the same as the walk to and from school. No brainer. My palms were sweating. <br />
<br />
He showed up at the door with delivery in hand. In the other hand was a post-it note with my brunch friend's address and Steve's phone number. I gave him a huge hug and tried to lean in for a kiss. Nope. He just said, "Ok, ok, I gotta go, I only have 10 minutes to get home." <br />
<br />
That's my pre-teen boy!!! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-15598687975667072572014-12-24T14:26:00.000-05:002015-02-18T13:03:22.345-05:00Merry Christmas CardEvery year, I get a Christmas picture of the boys taken at the Superstore. I don't take it seriously. They might wear red, I try to brush their hair and they pick whatever props they want. <br />
<br />
I expect the shots to be terrible, and I pick the best of the worst. It goes in the Christmas card. <br />
<br />
Except this year. I forgot to make the appointment until it was too late. So I searched for a family picture on the computer. AND COULDN'T FIND ONE.<br />
<br />
Ok, I found one. From Easter. I don't even have the same haircut. <br />
<br />
So instead, I did this.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ydcB5woj_zA/VJsQQLDynmI/AAAAAAAAKuU/BvYC1E8hFVk/s1600/CCard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ydcB5woj_zA/VJsQQLDynmI/AAAAAAAAKuU/BvYC1E8hFVk/s1600/CCard.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It says: "Wishing you moments of peace in your house, too"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />I think Jake hates it. But our friends and family love it. And so do I!!!<br />
<br />
(proven <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/01/not-happy-new-year-and-challenge.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.com/2014/02/food-family-and-fun.html" target="_blank">here</a>)<br />
<br />
Here's to a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. <br />
<br />
During which time, I might know a mother who runs to the Superstore for a belated Christmas picture that could look terrible. ;)<br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-29085149887676604722014-12-23T16:31:00.000-05:002014-12-23T16:31:59.027-05:00Holiday Downtime: 5 Amazing Netflix DocumentariesIt's the homestretch to Christmas. A couple more days, and that's it.<br />
<br />
It's over. <br />
<br />
What to do on those nights when the holiday movies aren't on tv and neither are any of your favorite shows?<br />
<br />
Netflix. Docs.<br />
<br />
These are my five recent faves that are available in the US AND CANADA! (Those of you up here with me know that is not always the case...)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TbLlAP6GPcc/VI8PKwf_KLI/AAAAAAAAKrM/W8VzEcHZk7w/s1600/bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TbLlAP6GPcc/VI8PKwf_KLI/AAAAAAAAKrM/W8VzEcHZk7w/s1600/bill.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://zeitgeistfilms.com/billcunninghamnewyork/" target="_blank">Bill Cunningham New York</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"We all get dressed for Bill." - Anna Wintour, Vogue Magazine<br />
<br />
This documentary is based in my favorite city in the whole wide world. But it's more than that - it's about a fixture in and the character of that city. Bill is an unassuming, humble artist who simply loves fashion. Not the celebrity or the attention, just the clothes. This film shares a part of New York that I'd never really paid close attention to, and introduced me to someone who has dedicated his whole life to it. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pp5lVMewsas/VI8U62RACLI/AAAAAAAAKr8/JETo_6LPq9k/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pp5lVMewsas/VI8U62RACLI/AAAAAAAAKr8/JETo_6LPq9k/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blackfishmovie.com/" target="_blank">Blackfish</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Sad, yet eye-opening. What struck me most about this film was its attempt at being objective. The presentation of the history of captive whales and the bloodline to the main character. Though I knew theme parks weren't the best habitats, now I can tell you why. This film moved me and changed my perspective, which is why it should be shared.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRM_SWjIlYg/VI8VOBkUEmI/AAAAAAAAKsE/7B1nzBwILHc/s1600/brooklyn%2Bcastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRM_SWjIlYg/VI8VOBkUEmI/AAAAAAAAKsE/7B1nzBwILHc/s1600/brooklyn%2Bcastle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.brooklyncastle.com/" target="_blank">Brooklyn Castle</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Uplifting, hopeful, heroic. It's that inspirational story of the less fortunate working hard to change their future. But the difference here is they are doing it themselves and within a public school setting. I will never look at chess the same way again. And now I really want my kids to play...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8evdiFTnBOQ/VI8VOG_2LPI/AAAAAAAAKsI/ztb5vi7Gk5c/s1600/bully.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8evdiFTnBOQ/VI8VOG_2LPI/AAAAAAAAKsI/ztb5vi7Gk5c/s1600/bully.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thebullyproject.com/about_film" target="_blank">Bully</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh I cried. And you will, too. But that's why you need to watch this film. Life isn't the same as it was when I was growing up. Environment, circumstances, cultures - they are all different. It is mortifying to think this actually happens today in our schools and neighborhoods, but it does. Being aware of it and communicating with others can make a world of difference. Watching this documentary reminded me to keep this discussion going with my own kids.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Dml9-0wz28/VI8VOA_a9kI/AAAAAAAAKsM/z76ycKvFikU/s1600/undefeated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Dml9-0wz28/VI8VOA_a9kI/AAAAAAAAKsM/z76ycKvFikU/s1600/undefeated.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1860355/" target="_blank">Undefeated</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
You don't have to like football, you don't have to like an underdog story, and you don't have to like feeling good after watching a documentary. But you will get all three. It's a story of a school who's football team never (NEVER) had a winning season, but a volunteer (VOLUNTEER!!!) coach changed all that. And their lives. It's hard to believe this is a real story. It's stayed with me since I watched it.<br />
<br />
<br />
Happy Holiday Netflix-ing!!!!Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-65488837047251068742014-12-15T13:04:00.000-05:002015-02-18T13:02:44.547-05:00Holiday-ing Around Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjmgHVns-Ck/VI8bilZoy3I/AAAAAAAAKss/6Qu7qFKwXY4/s1600/IMG_1486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjmgHVns-Ck/VI8bilZoy3I/AAAAAAAAKss/6Qu7qFKwXY4/s1600/IMG_1486.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugXC_AP0jZ0/VI8bj5uWtDI/AAAAAAAAKs4/QhJriKGifYw/s1600/IMG_1509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugXC_AP0jZ0/VI8bj5uWtDI/AAAAAAAAKs4/QhJriKGifYw/s1600/IMG_1509.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jMAMWAn43tQ/VI8bjjaZ1VI/AAAAAAAAKtA/yzxx47mfsI8/s1600/IMG_1507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jMAMWAn43tQ/VI8bjjaZ1VI/AAAAAAAAKtA/yzxx47mfsI8/s1600/IMG_1507.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
We don't really go all out. There are 3 weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. And we're away for both. So we have two small bins of stuff and a tree. <br />
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Translation: the kids do the decorating. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G25qEpEOMc0/VI8exz_c2yI/AAAAAAAAKtQ/-VSSapu2q2Y/s1600/niche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G25qEpEOMc0/VI8exz_c2yI/AAAAAAAAKtQ/-VSSapu2q2Y/s1600/niche.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div>
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My 1% is the niche above the tree. This year, I found two glass trees at CB2, which were the perfect height and depth. I only stopped in early November to measure them, but the salesperson said they sell out immediately, so home they came. True to his word, they are gone!!!<br />
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But, as with children decorating, that cute little snowflake in a globe was vetoed because he had to come down and live with the other closer-to-the-touch decorations. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OFe6VxjNp0g/VI8bi9IPMCI/AAAAAAAAKsk/xkIuugTT2X8/s1600/IMG_1502.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OFe6VxjNp0g/VI8bi9IPMCI/AAAAAAAAKsk/xkIuugTT2X8/s1600/IMG_1502.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here is the other 99%. <br />
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Pseudo-chocolate advent calendars - check.<br />
Random statues, globes and mini-trees grouped together - check.<br />
Stockings that can't be left alone* - check.<br />
Random reindeer in the corner because he can't stand up - check.<br />
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*They lasted about 5 minutes. The next day, George pulled on one as he walked by, causing the reindeer holder to fall, dent the floor and break into a million pieces. Lesson learned, next year we're going with command strips.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACJ4bG5kPUM/VI8ex-H8TkI/AAAAAAAAKtU/_9_wgzyBvDU/s1600/IMG_1505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACJ4bG5kPUM/VI8ex-H8TkI/AAAAAAAAKtU/_9_wgzyBvDU/s1600/IMG_1505.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Last but not least, although we went with the broken-tipped silver star on the big tree, warm-hearted Henry didn't want our homemade star from nobody-knows-when-it-was-made to go unused. So he wrapped it around the top of the mini-tree on the table. Which is in everyone's way when they eat dinner and want to watch the end of Spongebob ;)<br />
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Here's to the holidays of 2014. And maybe next year George will finally learn not to open multiple random numbers on his advent calendar and run out of chocolate with 9 days to go. <br />
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Merry Christmas ;)<br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-23511635345335728302014-12-04T13:54:00.000-05:002014-12-04T13:54:31.345-05:00Inspiration: Boys Bedroom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nIp0eVxsK0Y/VICgOgkNJII/AAAAAAAAKow/tfI3f_G7u5c/s1600/IMG_1529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nIp0eVxsK0Y/VICgOgkNJII/AAAAAAAAKow/tfI3f_G7u5c/s1600/IMG_1529.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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When I walk down the hall, I love to peek into their room. Natural light bounces off the white walls. <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/01/out-with-old-in-with-newdresser.html" target="_blank">The dresser</a> is still in good shape. And it's so small, it only takes 3.0937523 seconds to tidy everything up.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3FfsOl5EDQ/VICgPfDQWZI/AAAAAAAAKo8/zltvGDyt8RA/s1600/IMG_1525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3FfsOl5EDQ/VICgPfDQWZI/AAAAAAAAKo8/zltvGDyt8RA/s1600/IMG_1525.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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But this wall? I'm stumped. They need more storage, now that Lego and Skylanders are a major part of our lives. And I need a place for dirty laundry. It just has to be shallow and it can't be another dresser. <br />
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Pinterest to the rescue...with its partner in crime, Ikea. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D0DmaoADO-A/VICgONiFkfI/AAAAAAAAKoo/8LNVy-_wdQg/s1600/IMG_1127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D0DmaoADO-A/VICgONiFkfI/AAAAAAAAKoo/8LNVy-_wdQg/s1600/IMG_1127.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://honeyandfitz.com/2013/05/10/reeds-nursery/" target="_blank">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I'm kinda in love with this set up. The double-wide <a href="http://www.ikea.com/ca/en/catalog/products/S79002478/" target="_blank">Ikea shelves</a> would fit between the door and the wall. Hanging shorter shelves on top towards the wall would help the narrow entrance to the room (because of the bunk bed). And I'd use <a href="http://fluf.ca/collections/organic-cotton-bins" target="_blank">these adorable bins</a> under the lowest shelf. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UMzajK7UMrw/VICgOJsI3oI/AAAAAAAAKok/Cnx4WnPgGgc/s1600/IMG_1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UMzajK7UMrw/VICgOJsI3oI/AAAAAAAAKok/Cnx4WnPgGgc/s1600/IMG_1125.jpg" height="320" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.babble.com/baby/overflowing-toys-10-organized-playrooms/" target="_blank">Source</a></td></tr>
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This set up is a close second. Ikea's <a href="http://www.ikea.com/ca/en/catalog/products/00275848/" target="_blank">shelving unit</a> or <a href="http://www.ikea.com/ca/en/catalog/products/30252360/#/50252359" target="_blank">wall cabinet</a> would do the trick. Stacked or spread out, the cabinets have major potential. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nct5-nLC8zI/VICoSbClJhI/AAAAAAAAKpM/OxBiDKHf6D0/s1600/IMG_8302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nct5-nLC8zI/VICoSbClJhI/AAAAAAAAKpM/OxBiDKHf6D0/s1600/IMG_8302.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/" target="_blank">Source</a></td></tr>
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And then there's my absolute fave. Maybe it's the yellow brackets? Or the chair? Or the plants?!?! Or the fact that I can close my eyes and see this in their room just like it is. Right. Here.<br />
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Suddenly, I picture Henry balancing on that chair's edge while George hangs from the bottom shelf as Jake cheers them on, racing to see who can get their toy down first... <br />
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So...maybe it's a mix of all three. With the rule: shelves are for toys, not boys ;)<br />
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Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-8915402421285848452014-11-22T00:59:00.000-05:002014-11-22T00:59:36.416-05:00The Week Before ThanksgivingAnother kid-filled post. Avert your eyes! Unless you're my dad.<br />
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For the last few years, I've been lucky enough to spend the week before US Thanksgiving back home with my folks. Steve drives us down on the weekend and flies back to Toronto to work. Then we meet him in Niagara Falls on the way to our big Thanksgiving get together in upstate New York. It's a highly orchestrated event involving a car, an airplane, a train and sometimes a bus. <br />
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But it's all worth it because we get to do stuff like this:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EIeqKwl1fD0/VHAWAQQ3CpI/AAAAAAAAKm0/0forENy97LA/s1600/IMG_1287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EIeqKwl1fD0/VHAWAQQ3CpI/AAAAAAAAKm0/0forENy97LA/s1600/IMG_1287.jpg" height="285" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green Bay Packers Autograph Signing</td></tr>
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Since I've managed to successfully turn my children into enormous Packer fans, this random event completely blew their minds. <br />
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The only lead up I gave them was: You only get a few seconds with these guys. Maybe you should ask them a question!?!<br />
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Henry: What's your favorite animal?<br />
Quarless: A Lion!<br />
Pennel: An Elephant.<br />
Jake: Is it easier to catch the ball in the heat or in the cold?<br />
Quarless: Haha, good question! Definitely the heat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ALIO9NUYr2A/VHAWAry5GzI/AAAAAAAAKm4/7U7gaFIp5-M/s1600/IMG_1290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ALIO9NUYr2A/VHAWAry5GzI/AAAAAAAAKm4/7U7gaFIp5-M/s1600/IMG_1290.jpg" height="320" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike Pennel #64</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SuCvsEbaf3s/VHAWBCIsbKI/AAAAAAAAKnA/Pe3dE2_k9l4/s1600/IMG_1292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SuCvsEbaf3s/VHAWBCIsbKI/AAAAAAAAKnA/Pe3dE2_k9l4/s1600/IMG_1292.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew Quarless #81</td></tr>
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I heard about it on the radio the day before. It was taking place at a local haircut chain. We stood outside in a freezing cold lineup for 1/2 hr. But only about 35 people showed up, so we could have arrived 1/2 hr after the event started and walked right in. <br />
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Oh, smalltown, WI. You're so not Toronto. <br />
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Then we took a roadtrip. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L72tXmLRkBU/VHAWCNI6o0I/AAAAAAAAKnM/heHtFYNuvKo/s1600/IMG_1303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L72tXmLRkBU/VHAWCNI6o0I/AAAAAAAAKnM/heHtFYNuvKo/s1600/IMG_1303.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ella's Deli - Madison, WI</td></tr>
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The state capitol is Madison, WI...only 60 minutes away from my parents' front door. So why not?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6n-B9zkFDEA/VHAWFxOUZMI/AAAAAAAAKnY/KrjkpsYwfRg/s1600/IMG_1334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6n-B9zkFDEA/VHAWFxOUZMI/AAAAAAAAKnY/KrjkpsYwfRg/s1600/IMG_1334.jpg" height="318" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The State Capitol</td></tr>
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It was really really cold. But still, I told them to run around as much as they could outside, because it was gonna be all business inside. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SjUmPl98bDA/VHAWGYR3zhI/AAAAAAAAKng/000iom4T89c/s1600/IMG_1341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SjUmPl98bDA/VHAWGYR3zhI/AAAAAAAAKng/000iom4T89c/s1600/IMG_1341.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2nd Floor</td></tr>
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But, by looking at this picture, you can tell that middle child was anything but business. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sDM91E_R2w0/VHAWHl2B0mI/AAAAAAAAKns/q6FTz7gGMNo/s1600/IMG_1346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sDM91E_R2w0/VHAWHl2B0mI/AAAAAAAAKns/q6FTz7gGMNo/s1600/IMG_1346.jpg" height="320" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State Senate Chamber</td></tr>
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Thank goodness, our close family friend sits in that very desk. I only found this out when my mom was reading the self guided tour info. "...and the president of the Senate sits in the desk at the front of the room. Oh! That's Mary!!" <br />
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She was elected to the position by her Senate peers just a few weeks ago. The first female Senate President of the State of Wisconsin. I've known her since I was in 4th grade. Go <a href="http://legis.wisconsin.gov/senate/lazich/Pages/default.aspx" target="_blank">Mary</a>!!!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz64QbsaBtM/VHAWIbtN_sI/AAAAAAAAKn0/0hTmYjcyYEM/s1600/IMG_1348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz64QbsaBtM/VHAWIbtN_sI/AAAAAAAAKn0/0hTmYjcyYEM/s1600/IMG_1348.jpg" height="301" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rub The Nose For Luck</td></tr>
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Then we found the bronze badger, our official state animal, and rubbed the nose for luck. He sits right outside the Governor's office, so we had to ask the security guard to let us in. He asked if we might be Packer fans. I have no idea why.<br />
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And here's a picture without children...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-beMLtE4rDRc/VHAWFrKqpgI/AAAAAAAAKnU/b1vgX-9sUWE/s1600/IMG_1335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-beMLtE4rDRc/VHAWFrKqpgI/AAAAAAAAKnU/b1vgX-9sUWE/s1600/IMG_1335.jpg" height="320" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dome</td></tr>
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The inside of the Capitol Dome. It's gorgeous. Even the kids were drawn in. <br />
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Oh yes! Those kids...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Du0ocdWkwCA/VHAWJ4Y_uII/AAAAAAAAKn8/JwMrC-ABQBM/s1600/IMG_1372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Du0ocdWkwCA/VHAWJ4Y_uII/AAAAAAAAKn8/JwMrC-ABQBM/s1600/IMG_1372.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving It</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9NVksGbsWKg/VHAWLh20VII/AAAAAAAAKoE/-9tyvW5_V6Y/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9NVksGbsWKg/VHAWLh20VII/AAAAAAAAKoE/-9tyvW5_V6Y/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turning In Tickets</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6C7kdFwk3No/VHAWMm6zyJI/AAAAAAAAKoM/AHiAG0rwcMk/s1600/IMG_1378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6C7kdFwk3No/VHAWMm6zyJI/AAAAAAAAKoM/AHiAG0rwcMk/s1600/IMG_1378.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His Loot</td></tr>
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Today was our Grand Finale. We leave tomorrow for my brother's house and then on to the east coast. So, of course, we hit Chuck E. Cheese for lunch. I never ever EVER go there in Toronto, so it's a real treat for these guys. The games, the tickets and the prizes. I don't think I've ever paid so much for a twisty lollipop in my life. <br />
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But look at that face. He's just so happy.<br />
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And part two of the finale?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hEe3i5MKiis/VHAWNFUcjWI/AAAAAAAAKoQ/7kk6BncU2Gc/s1600/IMG_1404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hEe3i5MKiis/VHAWNFUcjWI/AAAAAAAAKoQ/7kk6BncU2Gc/s1600/IMG_1404.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helium Trampoline Park</td></tr>
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My kids are the three blurs in the foreground. There is nothing more satisfying than burning off energy, and this is the place to do it. <br />
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These videos kill me. He's 3-1/2. I had to drag him out kicking and screaming.<br />
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Happy almost Thanksgiving / Black Friday!!!!Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-2347049863089710712014-11-13T11:48:00.000-05:002014-11-13T11:49:05.226-05:00Halloween...And Then SomeI've decided to get into the mode of posting less more often instead of a lot less often. I'm short on time. Like everyone. So if I put it out there, maybe I'll do it. <br />
<br />
After this one.<br />
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My "blogiversary" came and went. November 1st. Three years! I did a <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2011/11/halloween-fun-x3.html" target="_blank">Halloween recap</a><a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2011/11/halloween-fun-x3.html" target="_blank"> then</a>, and <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2012/11/our-halloween-rain-sirens-and-er.html" target="_blank">again</a>, and <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2013/11/the-most-boring-halloween-ever.html" target="_blank">again</a>, so I must do one now. No matter how late is is...<br />
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George and I visited Henry's classroom Halloween party. This black cat got to pose with The Hulk...aka his 3rd costume choice in the week leading up to the big event. Argh!!<br />
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After school, we ran home to decorate. I just can't get it together to decorate even one day in advance. It's last minute every single year. But the joy of kids getting older, means they pitch in. Jake did the caution tape and I took care of the faux-pumpkins. (For a full explanation, visit <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2012/11/our-halloween-rain-sirens-and-er.html" target="_blank">this link</a>, we will never carve again!!!)<br />
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Recurring themes: Zombie (this year there were two), Rain (at least it's not snow) and CANDY (more than ever). We have the kids pour all the loot onto the table for a picture right after trick-or-treating. This makes for no individual stashes. I can't believe they haven't caught onto my trick yet. <br />
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And because it's been two weeks since Halloween, here's some other random things going on in our terribly busy lives:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ui_KJiImcH8/VGTVEJcdd-I/AAAAAAAAKk0/d4apl6J8-bI/s1600/IMG_1123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ui_KJiImcH8/VGTVEJcdd-I/AAAAAAAAKk0/d4apl6J8-bI/s320/IMG_1123.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter Is Coming</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Winter gear goes on sale incredibly early. I gave him the chance to pick out his own hat. I think he loves it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This came home in Jake's backpack. His class was taking a trip to the "Century Schoolhouse" here in Toronto, and he was actually excited about it! I was skeptical. I know my resistant-to-any-kind-of-change child, but he really wanted to participate. So we headed to Value Village and Dollarama. He picked it all out.<br />
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And then this happened. <br />
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He settled down, went off to school and met up with his classmates who looked just as <strike>crazy</strike> cute. A friend of mine called it "adorkable". Yes. Every 3rd grade child must go through the rite of passage. <br />
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Then he came home and told us how he got "punished" and had to hold a log for 2 minutes. A classmate got her hair pinned to the wall and another had to stand on his tippy toes and hold his nose to the wall for a minute. Awful field trip that it was.<br />
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"Henry, you're gonna hate it next year." <br />
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Since we're going with a Jake theme here, I have to mention how insanely into football he is right now. I admit, we've been brainwashing him with my beloved Green Bay Packers from very young. But he not only watches it, he plays it. Daily. At school. Begs us to go outside and "throw the football around." His brothers, too. I love it. <br />
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(And we loved watching the Packers dismantle the Bears on Sunday Night Football. All three boys may have been a little tired at school the next day...)<br />
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And on this active note:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fRQUv4-WbAg/VGTVH9dEJaI/AAAAAAAAKmI/rfhp-g6Soak/s1600/IMG_1219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fRQUv4-WbAg/VGTVH9dEJaI/AAAAAAAAKmI/rfhp-g6Soak/s320/IMG_1219.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random iPad Picture</td></tr>
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<br />
We're neck deep in the electronics war. Our kids have taken over the iPad. And an old laptop. Yesterday, Jake found my old iPhone. <br />
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It's still the kid phase. Facebook, Instagram and Twitter accounts aren't in our near future. But usage is getting out of hand. Our general family belief is: everything in moderation. So we're doing our best to limit the time spent on electronics, taking turns, managing the games. <br />
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But some days, that iPad just seems to disappear. Nobody can find it! Hmmm...let's go play football, instead ;) <br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-1969045224341121132014-10-26T14:17:00.000-04:002014-11-13T11:49:13.797-05:00How I Know We're Meant To BeBack in early April, while I was dreaming of summer, I hit the mall to look for sunglasses and took this shot.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZWAYB83-ZU/VE0ub-Bdf-I/AAAAAAAAKjk/RL0RZCZMguQ/s1600/IMG_7613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZWAYB83-ZU/VE0ub-Bdf-I/AAAAAAAAKjk/RL0RZCZMguQ/s1600/IMG_7613.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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He picked them out himself, got a thumbs up from a hipster standing next to us, and the cashier even smiled. I sent the pic to my husband. Because why not. <br />
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End of story.<br />
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It's the fall. We've lived with our renovation for a year. And we both decide we need to get on some art. Like really need. Minimal / Modern suits us well. But we need something on the wall! Especially this one. <br />
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It's in the living room, opposite the TV. You can see a tour and before/after of the room <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2013/11/house-tour-living-room.html" target="_blank">HERE</a> from a year ago. Where I mentioned we need art. A YEAR AGO!<br />
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So, I finally put up some taped-together paper to get a sense of the size and location....for a little DIY idea that I found <a href="http://www.bowerpowerblog.com/2013/11/dumpster-texture-art/" target="_blank">here</a>. Oh, how I love it. It's totally my vibe. But I live in the city. There are no random large canvasses just sitting out on the curb. <br />
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(Well, there was one. In the spring. I pulled over, measured it and started putting it in my trunk. Then a lady walking by said, "Be careful. That's a rooming house." I looked at her with a question mark on my face. She leaned in and whispered, "Bedbugs." And walked away. Then I saw dog poo on a corner of the canvas.)<br />
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Once I figured out the size, I looked into buying one. The size of that paper is 5 feet wide by 3.5 feet high. Any guesses? $200. For a DIY that might or might not turn out great. I couldn't pull the trigger. <br />
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So the paper stayed. People asked if it was art. I started saying yes. <br />
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And then it was my birthday. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gA9Li8_13Ac/VE0ua6KfXHI/AAAAAAAAKjU/vrPKTbQE8to/s1600/IMG_0830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gA9Li8_13Ac/VE0ua6KfXHI/AAAAAAAAKjU/vrPKTbQE8to/s1600/IMG_0830.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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My husband was sick of seeing the paper on the wall. So he took a big gamble. <br />
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And won. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w8GydF2wIbI/VE059-MvrPI/AAAAAAAAKkE/5KVSzm_lmXw/s1600/IMG_0995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w8GydF2wIbI/VE059-MvrPI/AAAAAAAAKkE/5KVSzm_lmXw/s1600/IMG_0995.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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He downloaded a free app called <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/ca/app/glaze/id521573656?mt=8" target="_blank">Glaze</a>, to give the picture a more painted look instead of a photograph. Then he sent it to <a href="http://www.canvaspop.com/" target="_blank">Canvas Pop</a>, an online company that prints photos on canvas. He had the canvas sent to our home address, and amazingly enough, our neighbor intercepted the delivery. Then Steve ran it around the corner to our local framer. <br />
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And funny enough, it matches the size of the paper. He didn't even measure it. He just went for the biggest canvas. <br />
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It's not a DIY and it wasn't cheap. But good, big art isn't. What it is, is something better than a photo. Or a gallery. Or collage. It's pop art of my own kid. <br />
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(That the other two think "looks creepy.")<br />
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And I love it. ;)Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-91272360572508296022014-10-03T20:09:00.000-04:002014-10-03T20:10:03.604-04:00Someone's SevenSuddenly, I found myself picking up a child at school today for a birthday lunch. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qti3LYAUvck/VC8wVYO-XoI/AAAAAAAAKh8/j5iH5ptFYkU/s1600/01Hborn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qti3LYAUvck/VC8wVYO-XoI/AAAAAAAAKh8/j5iH5ptFYkU/s1600/01Hborn.jpg" height="320" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We walked to Pizza Pizza. He wouldn't hold my hand until we crossed the street. And then he forgot to let go for a while.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fz8QNsGzSX8/VC8wV5eYRgI/AAAAAAAAKiE/cIiUZ5q08Fg/s1600/02H6mos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fz8QNsGzSX8/VC8wV5eYRgI/AAAAAAAAKiE/cIiUZ5q08Fg/s1600/02H6mos.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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He had to go to the bathroom SO BAD. He wanted to go on a tree in the park, but we made a pitstop at a coffee shop instead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-obW5oZcUvhA/VC8wVtRaHoI/AAAAAAAAKiA/8lzBPwtlSh8/s1600/03H1year.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-obW5oZcUvhA/VC8wVtRaHoI/AAAAAAAAKiA/8lzBPwtlSh8/s1600/03H1year.jpg" height="320" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1 year</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We went to Pizza Pizza because he got a Birthday coupon in the mail for a free slice and soda. He reeeeeally wanted bacon, but he had to choose between cheese or pepperoni. He chose cheese. And a root beer. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9AZwUmaY1sQ/VC8wWQD-LhI/AAAAAAAAKiQ/7XDKc7_I5OU/s1600/04H2years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9AZwUmaY1sQ/VC8wWQD-LhI/AAAAAAAAKiQ/7XDKc7_I5OU/s1600/04H2years.jpg" height="320" width="205" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
His birthday fell on a Friday, so a bunch of 6th graders from his school were at the pizza place, too. That was sooooo cool. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Y32Tk2Ueu4/VC8wW53MSgI/AAAAAAAAKiY/T2v8oLwYNMM/s1600/05H3years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Y32Tk2Ueu4/VC8wW53MSgI/AAAAAAAAKiY/T2v8oLwYNMM/s1600/05H3years.jpg" height="320" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cool enough that he didn't feel like talking to me, just looking at the big kids. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DoUjLNBP2vM/VC8wXe9oUpI/AAAAAAAAKik/_X9S0l9dzmQ/s1600/06H4years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DoUjLNBP2vM/VC8wXe9oUpI/AAAAAAAAKik/_X9S0l9dzmQ/s1600/06H4years.jpg" height="320" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He did say he couldn't remember if he had math that morning, he wasn't sure if he had gym that afternoon and he really wanted to get back in time for lunch recess. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PTDnwoFhdNg/VC8wX6-EVGI/AAAAAAAAKio/zyGIOWw9QQk/s1600/07H5years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PTDnwoFhdNg/VC8wX6-EVGI/AAAAAAAAKio/zyGIOWw9QQk/s1600/07H5years.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We went back to school. I walked on the sidewalk. He walked on everything but. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5m2tRGCOYc/VC8wYHjnbBI/AAAAAAAAKis/2pXsEQzBjU8/s1600/08H6years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5m2tRGCOYc/VC8wYHjnbBI/AAAAAAAAKis/2pXsEQzBjU8/s1600/08H6years.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He wouldn't stop talking. All about random things that I couldn't follow. I don't think he even knew what he was talking about after a while.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2p6rE5a_K0c/VC8wY6bIrdI/AAAAAAAAKi8/q1XBZY1vSAg/s1600/09H7years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2p6rE5a_K0c/VC8wY6bIrdI/AAAAAAAAKi8/q1XBZY1vSAg/s1600/09H7years.jpg" height="320" width="269" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The second we got back to school, he wrapped his arms around my waist and said "Love you, mom." Then he walked up to the front entrance, in through the doors and disappeared up the stairs. <br />
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He didn't look back even once. Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-20460207530715438622014-09-22T17:42:00.000-04:002014-09-22T17:42:17.516-04:00Closetmaid with Ikea Hack (I Mean) HelpA million years ago, I ripped this out of a magazine:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8zW8zvFEAiY/VCBi3y0nt6I/AAAAAAAAKfM/arRC-P0iTKU/s1600/IMG_0286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8zW8zvFEAiY/VCBi3y0nt6I/AAAAAAAAKfM/arRC-P0iTKU/s1600/IMG_0286.jpg" height="320" width="267" /></a></div>
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If you squint, you can see it's from the June 2013 issue of Real Simple. Soooo, it just feels like a million. Because I've been dreaming of it for the kid's closet. <br />
<br />
In fact, when we did the big reno, I asked my contractor to build this for their room. He laughed and said, "I'll do it, but it's gonna cost you about 5 times the price of that kit." Done. Don't. <br />
<br />
Didn't. <br />
<br />
A few months later, I got all inspired by <a href="http://aubreyandlindsay.blogspot.ca/2014/01/organizing-our-closet-with-closet-maid.html" target="_blank">another blogger's closet</a>, who used the same Closetmaid system. I got all "if she can do it, I can do it". <br />
<br />
And took 6 months to buy the kit. <br />
<br />
Then went on summer vacation.<br />
<br />
But I finally put it together!!! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6muUyENvt8/VCBi3CT9p5I/AAAAAAAAKe8/Z5kfGG7lTu0/s1600/IMG_0279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6muUyENvt8/VCBi3CT9p5I/AAAAAAAAKe8/Z5kfGG7lTu0/s1600/IMG_0279.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double Door Closet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m6R4801wy68/VCBi3GgJ34I/AAAAAAAAKe4/vrvpHxhTkcA/s1600/IMG_0280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m6R4801wy68/VCBi3GgJ34I/AAAAAAAAKe4/vrvpHxhTkcA/s1600/IMG_0280.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mess Inside</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This was as far as I got in organizing their closet a year after moving back in. Fail. HUGE FAIL. <br />
<br />
The space is not small. It's 4 feet wide, over 8 feet tall and 20 inches deep. So with those specs, I was able to match the <a href="http://store.closetmaid.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10051&storeId=10151&langId=-1&top_category=10001&parent_category_rn=10067&categoryId=10153&productId=10319" target="_blank">Closetmaid Selectives 16" Starter Kit</a>. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zsOANiydu8w/VCBi33MWWII/AAAAAAAAKfQ/HxLjd6WKoBs/s1600/IMG_0287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zsOANiydu8w/VCBi33MWWII/AAAAAAAAKfQ/HxLjd6WKoBs/s1600/IMG_0287.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />
It's sold at Home Depot for around $100. It was surprisingly easy to assemble. If you can put together Ikea, you can do this. If you can't put together Ikea, you can definitely do this. The instructions have words (in many languages!) along with pictures and helpful hints and what-not-to-do's. <br />
<br />
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NP5D7Jik-AQ/VCBi4L2pCQI/AAAAAAAAKfU/HyKR0Lm8DA4/s1600/IMG_0290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NP5D7Jik-AQ/VCBi4L2pCQI/AAAAAAAAKfU/HyKR0Lm8DA4/s1600/IMG_0290.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bottom Half</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eIsLMOjpFW8/VCBi4Zk2XEI/AAAAAAAAKfY/aLdQX_u-cEA/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eIsLMOjpFW8/VCBi4Zk2XEI/AAAAAAAAKfY/aLdQX_u-cEA/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Secured to the Wall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xf-wK6xDzdo/VCBi4v37ShI/AAAAAAAAKfc/8RHTMaWHhTg/s1600/IMG_0294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xf-wK6xDzdo/VCBi4v37ShI/AAAAAAAAKfc/8RHTMaWHhTg/s1600/IMG_0294.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top Half</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ltO47hL_Baw/VCBi44yiRRI/AAAAAAAAKfg/QXHNtyOrG-8/s1600/IMG_0295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ltO47hL_Baw/VCBi44yiRRI/AAAAAAAAKfg/QXHNtyOrG-8/s1600/IMG_0295.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click-In Adjustable Hanging Rod</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QC0WiWUJ7pw/VCBi5LCIAvI/AAAAAAAAKfk/nAjbpzpxDfg/s1600/IMG_0297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QC0WiWUJ7pw/VCBi5LCIAvI/AAAAAAAAKfk/nAjbpzpxDfg/s1600/IMG_0297.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank God It's Level</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tKkJEok2T-4/VCBi5ujUXxI/AAAAAAAAKfw/c0fwfWOdRuk/s1600/IMG_0304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tKkJEok2T-4/VCBi5ujUXxI/AAAAAAAAKfw/c0fwfWOdRuk/s1600/IMG_0304.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus Room On Top</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0hQLUeqTElk/VCBi5OWFgSI/AAAAAAAAKfo/5lidpekgL-c/s1600/IMG_0301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0hQLUeqTElk/VCBi5OWFgSI/AAAAAAAAKfo/5lidpekgL-c/s1600/IMG_0301.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bones</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YuH6i-ZBXWg/VCBi54OeYpI/AAAAAAAAKf8/et2g9yiQiZE/s1600/IMG_0303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YuH6i-ZBXWg/VCBi54OeYpI/AAAAAAAAKf8/et2g9yiQiZE/s1600/IMG_0303.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complete...???</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What it does not have is enough shelves. The three you see in the 2nd last picture above cannot move. They are screwed in place to keep the tower stable. <br />
<br />
I get that. <br />
<br />
But...then there are a million pre-drilled holes on each side for additional shelf placement. Annnnnd...two extra shelves. What a tease :(<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BaAaDc4hfvE/VCBq6bUsEsI/AAAAAAAAKhg/ljtTZKwPXzE/s1600/closet%2Bcloseup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BaAaDc4hfvE/VCBq6bUsEsI/AAAAAAAAKhg/ljtTZKwPXzE/s1600/closet%2Bcloseup.jpg" height="320" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reference</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So I check my magazine reference. Seven shelves! I only have five. I need two more to recreate the dream. Back to Home Depot. Nothing. No extra shelves for sale. Not even an empty shelf of shelves. Uh oh.<br />
<br />
I call Closetmaid. Explain. Plead. Beg. Nope. Not for sale. <br />
<br />
Really? <br />
<br />
I'm not buying a whole other kit to get two dang shelves. I tell them that. I tell them I regret buying their system. And they should think about selling the shelves.<br />
<br />
(Here's where you ask - why not put in drawers instead? Those are sold separately! I would. But if I move the tower to the right, so the drawers clear the door jamb, the hanging rod doesn't fit. Boo.)<br />
<br />
So I get to cleaning up and a light bulb goes off. If I can't make a shelf from the bottom, what about from above? Enter Ikea.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sTr9k12VKkg/VCBskaoNSiI/AAAAAAAAKhs/5JbeaQNnjBk/s1600/observator-clip-on-basket__0138905_PE298808_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sTr9k12VKkg/VCBskaoNSiI/AAAAAAAAKhs/5JbeaQNnjBk/s1600/observator-clip-on-basket__0138905_PE298808_S4.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Aha? Aha!<br />
<br />
I have two of these <a href="http://www.ikea.com/ca/en/catalog/products/80198101/" target="_blank">Observator clip-on baskets</a> in my basement pantry/closet from the good old Ivar system days. So I thought, yes! Instead of throwing my Closetmaid out the window, which would be hard after securing it through the wall into STUDS, those would work!<br />
<br />
So off to Ikea I went.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cakv3whSExw/VCBi6-kPSoI/AAAAAAAAKgU/9PLiUsI3SpQ/s1600/IMG_0528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cakv3whSExw/VCBi6-kPSoI/AAAAAAAAKgU/9PLiUsI3SpQ/s1600/IMG_0528.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BETTER!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And since you can never leave Ikea with just the one thing you came for, I got hangers and a box, too. Score!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bT6xNzNrimU/VCBi7CnMoNI/AAAAAAAAKgY/xE0ZDN0j08w/s1600/IMG_0530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bT6xNzNrimU/VCBi7CnMoNI/AAAAAAAAKgY/xE0ZDN0j08w/s1600/IMG_0530.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Boy George</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The closet organizer is for George's things, so the hanging baskets are perfect for diapers/pullups and wipes. When he outgrows those -I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait- he can decide what to put in them. <br />
<br />
For now, everything is in the open instead of baskets. He likes to pick out his own clothes in the morning and a book from the bottom at night. And no matter how messy it gets, I can just close the doors!<br />
<br />
(Those hats aren't his...yet. But this IS the house of hand-me-downs.)<br />
<br />
I never think of Ikea as the help for something else. I always think how something else can help Ikea. So this was a nice surprise. And although the lack of shelves is a bummer, I'm impressed with how versatile and <i>sturdy</i> the Closetmaid system is. It's not flush with the wall to the left because of the baseboard...but this thing ain't goin' nowhere. <br />
<br />
Good on ya, Closetmaid, but get on those shelves. And thank you, Ikea, for keeping the dream alive.<br />
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<br />
<i>(Nothing came for free / Neither of these companies know I exist. I'm just happy I finally got this project <b>done</b>.)</i><br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-71937484123668627062014-09-07T15:27:00.000-04:002014-09-07T15:27:18.951-04:00Perfect Porch PaintWe made it back home. The kids are back in school. I'm back on a schedule. Perfection.<br />
<br />
Kinda how I like my porch. The porch! It's been a month!<br />
<br />
Behold, the perfectly painted porch.<br />
<br />
But, wait! <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/08/progress-on-porch.html" target="_blank">Last time we spoke</a>, I was figuring out paint. From afar. With a neighbor who is attached. I had a game plan going in...to paint it exactly like it was. <br />
<br />
See, we painted our old porch a few times after first moving in. The first time, was to neutralize the dark brown floor that showed every single speck of dirt the moment after you finished sweeping. The second time was to fix that too-light-shade-of-grey on the floor, which competed with the white divider and columns. The times after that were to freshen up the peeling, scarred, chipped spots after renovating. <br />
<br />
We made the mistakes and finally found the colors we liked. I crossed my fingers and hoped our neighbor would, too. And he did. Mostly... But we get along well, so it all worked out. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZ8hZ06JILQ/VAykUWJ5LAI/AAAAAAAAKcQ/yxVpEEPxoCY/s1600/paint%2Bcolors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZ8hZ06JILQ/VAykUWJ5LAI/AAAAAAAAKcQ/yxVpEEPxoCY/s1600/paint%2Bcolors.jpg" height="310" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Color Scheme</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We chose the same white as the interior of our house. Landed on a green that matched our existing brick. And then found a grey we could both live with. He wanted darker, I wanted lighter. Steve couldn't care less. <br />
<br />
Then this happened. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQsjaiUvdaI/VAykTLmZA0I/AAAAAAAAKb8/KlJ6uFkzMEI/s1600/paint%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQsjaiUvdaI/VAykTLmZA0I/AAAAAAAAKb8/KlJ6uFkzMEI/s1600/paint%2B1.jpg" height="320" width="243" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awcnOyJtawQ/VAykTmQhsHI/AAAAAAAAKcE/_FipfMSWe5U/s1600/paint%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awcnOyJtawQ/VAykTmQhsHI/AAAAAAAAKcE/_FipfMSWe5U/s1600/paint%2B2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Osv1LHhgdTc/VAykUMkWlfI/AAAAAAAAKcM/yOxp_S0Q7ps/s1600/paint%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Osv1LHhgdTc/VAykUMkWlfI/AAAAAAAAKcM/yOxp_S0Q7ps/s1600/paint%2B3.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
EEEK! In the course of two days, the house and porch were complete. Our neighbor even decided to paint his house the same color as ours. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5OGfkZIxGI/VAykXuhw34I/AAAAAAAAKdU/fbvZ5x40eNc/s1600/porch%2Bfront3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5OGfkZIxGI/VAykXuhw34I/AAAAAAAAKdU/fbvZ5x40eNc/s1600/porch%2Bfront3.jpg" height="242" width="320" /></a></div>
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But, of course, we all agree to disagree. That's why we get along as neighbors. So, while our sides aren't exactly alike, they have the same structure. <br />
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Not that this is a complete before and after. We're not done painting. No, sir. Remember how I mentioned we had to re-paint the floor before? Well, learning from mistakes is hard when you're out of town and the old floor paint can is somewhere in your basement. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4RosCZy1omU/VAykVFVMuOI/AAAAAAAAKcc/OB6JLjwT3Gk/s1600/porch%2Bfloor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4RosCZy1omU/VAykVFVMuOI/AAAAAAAAKcc/OB6JLjwT3Gk/s1600/porch%2Bfloor.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Floor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-foU_kDWoHwk/VAykVeKPyKI/AAAAAAAAKck/8KeN40XA088/s1600/porch%2Bfloor2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-foU_kDWoHwk/VAykVeKPyKI/AAAAAAAAKck/8KeN40XA088/s1600/porch%2Bfloor2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Floor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />It's just...too...light blue? Even for an iPhone???<br />
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(Don't mind the chips in the threshold. The silicone holding the old floor boards in place was reeeeeally strong. Our doormat hides them.)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePVozhzO9dY/VAykWerrffI/AAAAAAAAKc8/3lSroFlIY6U/s1600/porch%2Bfloor5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePVozhzO9dY/VAykWerrffI/AAAAAAAAKc8/3lSroFlIY6U/s1600/porch%2Bfloor5.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bench (and bikes, etc)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And...since we decided to paint the bench the same color as the floor, so the porch wouldn't look and feel super small on the inside, it kills me EVEN MORE to see the wrong color. <br />
<br />
So, I did what any normal neighbor would do. I found the next darker chip on the strip (that actually matches the old floor paint that I finally FOUND), and told my neighbor he was right the first time. ;)<br />
<br />
And, besides. It's paint. Just. Paint.<br />
<br />
I even offered to redo both sides myself, if our contractor can't work a deal with the painter. I love to paint. And with the kids in school, what else do I have to do these days?!?!? Ha.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Akm01ce5ER0/VAykV41uLYI/AAAAAAAAKcw/sb7bgIisTS0/s1600/porch%2Bfloor4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Akm01ce5ER0/VAykV41uLYI/AAAAAAAAKcw/sb7bgIisTS0/s1600/porch%2Bfloor4.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Wrong paint aside, I'm finally cleaning and pretty-ing. We re-installed the light, put up a mailbox and numbers (sorry internet, but they do look beautiful) and I even went out on a limb and bought a planter. Yes, the wrapping is still on because I don't know if it's staying....<br />
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Once the painting is finished, I'll update with more details. But for now, she's lookin' pretty perfect from the street.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-peU1MkIZSv4/VAykW7bKs8I/AAAAAAAAKdE/WnlKacU55VQ/s1600/porch%2Bfront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-peU1MkIZSv4/VAykW7bKs8I/AAAAAAAAKdE/WnlKacU55VQ/s1600/porch%2Bfront.jpg" height="209" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PQaKUK3OBP0/VAykXJWJmxI/AAAAAAAAKdM/6IJZIClxBgQ/s1600/porch%2Bfront2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PQaKUK3OBP0/VAykXJWJmxI/AAAAAAAAKdM/6IJZIClxBgQ/s1600/porch%2Bfront2.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I guess she's more blue-green now, than before. But that's ok. Still pretty perfect.<br />
<br />
That front garden, on the other hand, not perfect at all.....!!!! <br />
Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-71479243734995505532014-08-07T16:56:00.000-04:002014-08-07T16:56:59.139-04:00Progress on the PorchStill away with the kids. While they still <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/07/cant-stop-wont-stop.html" target="_blank">work away on the porch</a>. And I'm loving the progress in all the pictures being sent to me!!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSy47F4kvoU/U-PcifFBGgI/AAAAAAAAKZc/822QeGF3ZQo/s1600/before+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSy47F4kvoU/U-PcifFBGgI/AAAAAAAAKZc/822QeGF3ZQo/s1600/before+1.jpg" height="250" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bIg1PvuicyQ/U-PZnXA911I/AAAAAAAAKWc/39MuUwirNlI/s1600/before+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bIg1PvuicyQ/U-PZnXA911I/AAAAAAAAKWc/39MuUwirNlI/s1600/before+2.jpg" height="252" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I Left</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m8_sIXkGBeM/U-PZoWzpv0I/AAAAAAAAKWg/O7K4_iWR66M/s1600/before+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m8_sIXkGBeM/U-PZoWzpv0I/AAAAAAAAKWg/O7K4_iWR66M/s1600/before+3.jpg" height="267" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Come on!!! Can you believe it? Could I be more in love? Actually, I could. <br />
<br />
But first let me tell you why I'm in love in the first place. We live in the city. The city gives us big garbage bins to use (which we must, or they don't collect). But they are so big on lots that are so small. They turn into eyesores against the beautiful curb appeal of the neighborhood. <br />
<br />
Unless you have a contractor who likes to think inside a box. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t4IPyjlUdP4/U-PZrgmJZ_I/AAAAAAAAKXM/CoPMLzo4440/s1600/bench+side+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t4IPyjlUdP4/U-PZrgmJZ_I/AAAAAAAAKXM/CoPMLzo4440/s1600/bench+side+1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side - Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YUqqihuWag4/U-PbcCCNajI/AAAAAAAAKZI/i1SWZGseGrw/s1600/IMG_9825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YUqqihuWag4/U-PbcCCNajI/AAAAAAAAKZI/i1SWZGseGrw/s1600/IMG_9825.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side - After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Or a bench.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UNW8x3SvliA/U-PbcruMoCI/AAAAAAAAKZM/4TVKbaAqbX8/s1600/IMG_9827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UNW8x3SvliA/U-PbcruMoCI/AAAAAAAAKZM/4TVKbaAqbX8/s1600/IMG_9827.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Genius</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
You can sit on it - it's normal bench height. Or you can open it and throw your trash away without your feet hitting the pavement. It's dreamy. And it will be amazing in winter. Yes, I'm excited to throw my trash away in the middle of winter. <br />
<br />
This porch would do that to you, too.<br />
<br />
Notice the slats at the back, above the bench. They echo the fence. It's the details.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTxbyBSSL84/U-PbUvFAFPI/AAAAAAAAKZA/3ivBIHly824/s1600/IMG_9826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTxbyBSSL84/U-PbUvFAFPI/AAAAAAAAKZA/3ivBIHly824/s1600/IMG_9826.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side & Front</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And although they don't match, they work together. Form and function in both.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C2G6FImtFAU/U-PZtSvjq1I/AAAAAAAAKXo/R_k7ODzJE3I/s1600/column+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C2G6FImtFAU/U-PZtSvjq1I/AAAAAAAAKXo/R_k7ODzJE3I/s1600/column+1.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close Up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I'm loving the details. It helps to have a carpenter who is so good at what he does.<br />
<br />
And by good, I mean great.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O9skZAjifI0/U-PZvhBs1PI/AAAAAAAAKYI/3KUn0ZAWsIU/s1600/divider+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O9skZAjifI0/U-PZvhBs1PI/AAAAAAAAKYI/3KUn0ZAWsIU/s1600/divider+1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Side</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Actually, fabulous. <br />
<br />
Every project has it's story. And this one is the divider. We used to have a wobbly, jerry-rigged, 100-coats-of-paint divider. It was hideous. Probably slapped up 4 decades ago, and only meant to last until the next neighbor moved in. <br />
<br />
When we started the project, the most discussion was had over the divider. Wood, glass, slopes, triangles, planters, shorter, taller, wider, you name it. Then, when the porch was ripped down and the new base was up, our neighbor preferred a divider-less look. Which was just too hard for a family with three young kids who have a cluttered porch fulls of bikes and boys who wouldn't understand that the neighbor's porch isn't our porch, too. So, after one last long discussion, we landed on slats. To compliment the back, above the bench. But privacy? Height? Depth? <br />
<br />
Our carpenter asked if we trust him. We said yes. We were both also out of town.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9LoOVITbYDo/U-PZwb077RI/AAAAAAAAKYM/oh0npn5t29s/s1600/divider+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9LoOVITbYDo/U-PZwb077RI/AAAAAAAAKYM/oh0npn5t29s/s1600/divider+2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His Side</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The open slats are opposite on each side. It is the same height as it was before. There is no jerry-rigged support from above anymore. He dug down to install support from below. And he jogged the depth back, so the divider starts just a few inches behind the first step. <br />
<br />
Open, yet private, and oh so pretty. It's true love. <br />
<br />
Who would have thought we could go from this... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O1vb-zm8gqk/U-PZuJ7Mw0I/AAAAAAAAKX8/TOmPCHQOhOg/s1600/demo+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O1vb-zm8gqk/U-PZuJ7Mw0I/AAAAAAAAKX8/TOmPCHQOhOg/s1600/demo+1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
to this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ObHM0eNaKZ0/U-PZuSxcZfI/AAAAAAAAKX4/Tr_l9mpSOw8/s1600/demo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ObHM0eNaKZ0/U-PZuSxcZfI/AAAAAAAAKX4/Tr_l9mpSOw8/s1600/demo+2.jpg" height="178" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And we're not even done. The shingles were just applied and the eaves just installed. Soon it's paint and finishing up the electrical.<br />
<br />
But for now, the husband enjoys a pretty view from the garbage bins. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UrfAEdbwZU4/U-PajYsgP0I/AAAAAAAAKY4/LD4cg4u4n5U/s1600/IMG_9763.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UrfAEdbwZU4/U-PajYsgP0I/AAAAAAAAKY4/LD4cg4u4n5U/s1600/IMG_9763.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Which will probably look even better in the middle of winter.<br />
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Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-19764758249638417772014-07-24T00:47:00.000-04:002014-07-24T00:48:01.140-04:00Can't Stop Won't StopThat's the thing about renovating. It's like getting a tattoo. Finish one. Think about another. Suddenly, it's on your skin. (Be it ink or demo dust)<br />
<br />
For us, it was a case of necessity. Our porch was falling down. Not like tomorrow, but pretty soon after that. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9S8H-D6A6M/U9CDeiJQytI/AAAAAAAAKSI/skirpsfM3Ms/s1600/IMG_8600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9S8H-D6A6M/U9CDeiJQytI/AAAAAAAAKSI/skirpsfM3Ms/s1600/IMG_8600.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who Lives Here!?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh yeah. Falling down for sure. Even photobomber George thinks it's pretty bad.<br />
<br />
We are lucky, as semi-detached homeowners, to not only get along with our shared neighbor, but to take on exterior home improvement projects together. We replaced our (rare in the Annex) parking pads together in 2006. And at that time, we decided to build a single staircase with railings, too. Best decision ever. <br />
<br />
But two major renovations for us, one rotting railing for him and a sagging century-old porch structure that supported a basement dig later...? <br />
<br />
Thank goodness we <a href="http://caliberbuilds.com/" target="_blank">knew a certain trusted contractor</a> who could help us out. <br />
<br />
So, after I left for summer vacation with our kids, they got to work.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8FlPz7Ggz-g/U9CDdf5VOrI/AAAAAAAAKSE/ZIposEU_RNI/s1600/IMG_8598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8FlPz7Ggz-g/U9CDdf5VOrI/AAAAAAAAKSE/ZIposEU_RNI/s1600/IMG_8598.jpg" height="304" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H4afTMzQ9mY/U9CDbPwpf7I/AAAAAAAAKRs/K5OGXdO22Vc/s1600/IMG_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H4afTMzQ9mY/U9CDbPwpf7I/AAAAAAAAKRs/K5OGXdO22Vc/s1600/IMG_0002.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh. My. God. We gutted two entire floors of our house and found fewer problems than the front 160 square feet that we call a porch. Rodent -squirrel- carcasses, urine soaked drywall in the ceiling and rotting chewed up beams (thus the sag). <br />
<br />
Eeeeewwwww. <br />
<br />
And we were hoping to save the roof. Ha! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H3-TytNOWEs/U9CDiqCvfaI/AAAAAAAAKS4/eHVQr4hqZJg/s1600/IMG_9219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H3-TytNOWEs/U9CDiqCvfaI/AAAAAAAAKS4/eHVQr4hqZJg/s1600/IMG_9219.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's Build A New Porch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is why I love our contractor and his guys. They're only interested in doing it right. One could look at it as 'job creep', but he knows it's our forever house. And our neighbor's side was in worse falling down shape than anyone could have predicted. So...a totally brand new porch it is. <br />
<br />
With proper brick pillars that are a) able to hold the weight of the new forever porch and b) in keeping with the neighborhood. Sold.<br />
<br />
Then I came home to Toronto for a weekend. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hJIenLmvoKs/U9CDcueD9PI/AAAAAAAAKR0/MMw-SKQ77bo/s1600/IMG_8589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hJIenLmvoKs/U9CDcueD9PI/AAAAAAAAKR0/MMw-SKQ77bo/s1600/IMG_8589.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4qzXmx9J2g/U9CDiu-pQJI/AAAAAAAAKS8/dZ9zzPiCt7g/s1600/IMG_9215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4qzXmx9J2g/U9CDiu-pQJI/AAAAAAAAKS8/dZ9zzPiCt7g/s1600/IMG_9215.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is our side. I can't wait to share the little life-altering upgrades we're making. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjjGz6NQzJU/U9CDdLdxYsI/AAAAAAAAKSA/UTyQLI-1m1M/s1600/IMG_8594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjjGz6NQzJU/U9CDdLdxYsI/AAAAAAAAKSA/UTyQLI-1m1M/s1600/IMG_8594.jpg" height="320" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W8iXZ1DeyI8/U9CDhithvPI/AAAAAAAAKSs/_ZJNZia1504/s1600/IMG_9213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W8iXZ1DeyI8/U9CDhithvPI/AAAAAAAAKSs/_ZJNZia1504/s1600/IMG_9213.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
View towards the neighbor. Same upgrades there. Kid-barricading divider to come. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_-8cdbAGSwA/U9CDfvJqznI/AAAAAAAAKSY/ckEnaH15J80/s1600/IMG_8605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_-8cdbAGSwA/U9CDfvJqznI/AAAAAAAAKSY/ckEnaH15J80/s1600/IMG_8605.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNzibc51Zus/U9CDgN3hNUI/AAAAAAAAKSg/Mq4ObJcJJFo/s1600/IMG_9163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNzibc51Zus/U9CDgN3hNUI/AAAAAAAAKSg/Mq4ObJcJJFo/s1600/IMG_9163.jpg" height="290" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9bQKIFH7Ee4/U9CDgssw9tI/AAAAAAAAKSk/dkFx3taibCY/s1600/IMG_9195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9bQKIFH7Ee4/U9CDgssw9tI/AAAAAAAAKSk/dkFx3taibCY/s1600/IMG_9195.jpg" height="320" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then I Left</td></tr>
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This is as far as things got while I was home. Which was perfect timing, because I got to see the progress and make some important decisions about structure, electrical and finishing. I'm not used to being gone while work continues...but that's why my better half is there.<br />
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And thank goodness it's just him instead of this guy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site Supervisor</td></tr>
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My father would be out there every hour of every day, if he could. But I brought him back to Wisconsin with the kids and I. Let those guys do what they do best!!!<br />
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Stay tuned for those upgrades, the new porch "look" and pictures of the progress :)Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2157313968610761996.post-10218273495089272992014-07-21T23:28:00.000-04:002014-07-21T23:28:46.076-04:00Here, Not ThereHere is New Berlin, WI. A city of 40,000. The place, the neighborhood, the house where I grew up. And <a href="http://lovingalbany.blogspot.ca/2014/04/dreaming-of-summer.html" target="_blank">we're spending 7 weeks in it</a>. <br />
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The difference between home in Toronto and here in New Berlin is...well, everything. Just completely, totally different. Country, population, landscape, density - it's all opposite.<br />
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But the biggest difference we've noticed is the wildlife. Yes. Wildlife. These city kids are astounded.<br />
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For example, every single night, these are in the backyards.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xB_wkebWPgg/U83SoOytCaI/AAAAAAAAKRE/__6YBwQ6mUs/s1600/deer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xB_wkebWPgg/U83SoOytCaI/AAAAAAAAKRE/__6YBwQ6mUs/s1600/deer.jpg" height="318" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Of Many</td></tr>
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It's gotten to the point where the kids who used to say, "Mom! Look! Deeeeeer!!!" now just say, "Deer again." How quickly city boys are jaded. <br />
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But what astounds me is the long list of wildlife they've seen in 2 weeks that they've never seen in the city in their entire lives. Such as: a muskrat, hawk, cardinal, frog, woodpecker, rabbit, owl, daddy long leg spider, a doe and her fawn, a million lightning bugs, a bird fly into a window and take an hour to recover in the grass, and...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What!?!?</td></tr>
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...a grasshopper. <br />
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All of these in nature, near the house, mostly in the backyard. I should add a reported coyote sighting by the neighbor, but we won't go there. Won't talk about last summer's grass snake, either. I think you get the city vs country point ;)<br />
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I guess it's just me taking growing up here for granted, and then realizing how truly amazing it is when I see it through my children's eyes. <br />
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To be honest, we've seen more animals than this. But we cheated. At the zoo.<br />
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Ten points for the person who can spot the rhino, hawk and peacock in this picture. I know. Me either.<br />
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Hooray for city kids having a "country" summer. Maybe by the time we go back, they'll be excited to see squirrels, pigeons and raccoons-who-aren't-afraid-of-people again. <br />
<br />Meg {lovingalbany}http://www.blogger.com/profile/05011975282223658762noreply@blogger.com0