tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34696572024-03-07T22:12:48.192-05:00Castle in the CloudsKrista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.comBlogger1344125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-24400169820562126632023-04-18T13:04:00.001-04:002023-05-11T08:50:00.593-04:00Camping with Little Boys<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqL49UHZtSxiaVK_LCmBZFm0hYIVnka_2mSwTE-NvtNV5mQxiqsnn7SQ-kqZiTUwCUwSQ8qwOdXaAmbmyxJbUbNSE91y5ZR8RzJ836VvR8HMM6G0zPOp-4wCTyJqEmIS0GKuSrCZqGJ74O-j3AnnHFiHGLR2ENGJIkMtjZg2n9uzr8UxeC_oY/s2118/2023-04-08-20-05-0019.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1450" data-original-width="2118" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqL49UHZtSxiaVK_LCmBZFm0hYIVnka_2mSwTE-NvtNV5mQxiqsnn7SQ-kqZiTUwCUwSQ8qwOdXaAmbmyxJbUbNSE91y5ZR8RzJ836VvR8HMM6G0zPOp-4wCTyJqEmIS0GKuSrCZqGJ74O-j3AnnHFiHGLR2ENGJIkMtjZg2n9uzr8UxeC_oY/w400-h274/2023-04-08-20-05-0019.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first travel trailer.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div>I don't remember camping much with my family as a kid. This is likely because we always had the same vacation destination: a family plot in Baldwin, MI. There was no cabin there. Instead, there were two structures: a small, silver camper and an old single-wide trailer. The silver camper is gone but the single-wide still sits there and is used by extended family members to this day. </div><div><br /></div><div>It wasn't until I was a teenager that my step-mom and dad bought a pop-up trailer and we started camping elsewhere in the state. My memory isn't the greatest, but I'm almost certain they got the pop-up after I started dating Ken. Eventually, my parents upgraded to a fifth wheel that my dad still pulls around to various nearby camping spots.<br /><br />Ken, by contrast, didn't have a set vacation destination growing up. His family camped. They started out with a truck-bed camper, I believe, and eventually upgraded to a fifth wheel. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ken and I vacationed both in Baldwin and by borrowing our parents' rigs. We also did a few tenting trips early on, but we preferred to borrow the pop-up or the truck-bed camper. We did this until the boys were almost done with their daycare days. Then, after a particularly horrid trip where there was vomit and diarrhea in a non-airconditioned truck-bed camper, we decided to stop camping until we could afford to buy our own trailer. One with a bathroom and air conditioning! It took a few years but, eventually, we purchased a Wildwood with bunks for the boys. </div><div><br /></div><div>We used that trailer for many years. Looking back, I am so grateful my boys got to grow up this way even if they don't remember all the places we visited. <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='473' height='394' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dygJJ0neB7xtJgAkVkOwMrDAXAsFrN3GNk7T3m7QDtW_hHVLhJwmOaEHRvlMM_VF81-7i7wg4XZ1gM' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-87220598616624858032023-03-29T22:42:00.000-04:002023-03-30T11:42:06.300-04:00Scanning Old Photos<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GdOpFcDq3UqFhv6scilXBljIjq1MRH1JiTlx81JLt2QMQTrMTu1p6taFwDneb7T5A4nByguuf9Rnt4loHf2C85Mzsh-YRwoS8FhVlAn6wUQafuBRjqVr0nQlrqQoBJBpSQ2K5QItD7DONl7kIlSoMRbt4dSRQwH-2AiQbtOZSDvgbc6iJq0/s1744/2023-03-28-21-21-0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1744" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GdOpFcDq3UqFhv6scilXBljIjq1MRH1JiTlx81JLt2QMQTrMTu1p6taFwDneb7T5A4nByguuf9Rnt4loHf2C85Mzsh-YRwoS8FhVlAn6wUQafuBRjqVr0nQlrqQoBJBpSQ2K5QItD7DONl7kIlSoMRbt4dSRQwH-2AiQbtOZSDvgbc6iJq0/w400-h271/2023-03-28-21-21-0018.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Ken with the Stanley Cup</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>I recently went away for a scrapbooking weekend with my friends and family. I wasn't in the mood to lug my scrapbooking supplies around, so I only brought a few smaller projects. I had coloring books and colored pencils for those moments when I really didn't want to do anything. I also had my laptop, tablet, photo scanner, and several boxes of old photos. </p><p>My first priority was to finish up my nephew's senior pictures. I had some editing left to do from our summer session. I am happy to report I am all caught up now! I finished up his baseball pics and sent them off to his mom. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIFpk6qzTIIyffmOh27yIPl40q0iJ1oKGKvXq9xYJEYhYWdf2oGgkmxmDLw2V9APMNTADuodxTiUXTp3Kk9npXUk-nQFmn03bOydqKakVIug7oo9ffs4ULVYwsDYZIu3n81Q2NgILrVzk6jEtM-pLhChDNe-iJ0eWbxo1O1iz7M9hBjuieZo/s1957/DSC_0839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1304" data-original-width="1957" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIFpk6qzTIIyffmOh27yIPl40q0iJ1oKGKvXq9xYJEYhYWdf2oGgkmxmDLw2V9APMNTADuodxTiUXTp3Kk9npXUk-nQFmn03bOydqKakVIug7oo9ffs4ULVYwsDYZIu3n81Q2NgILrVzk6jEtM-pLhChDNe-iJ0eWbxo1O1iz7M9hBjuieZo/w400-h266/DSC_0839.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Once I had completed that task, I colored for a bit. Eventually, after my sister finished borrowing my computer to do some video editing for her job, I hooked up my photo scanner and started feeding in pictures. I have a feeling I have some of these floating around on an external drive or CD somewhere, but, just in case I can't find them in the future, I scanned them in any way. Once they were scanned in, I saved them to the cloud and organized them into folders. Here's a brief overview of the type of photos I stumbled across in this emotional trip down memory lane.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8zLAmAUzu2ab0L1wLIsQG-3g7f9aPpu4Alk2smevR7i2Atj-kscoMORuf1mH0r4FFodw8myvAxUqzEG0wGljPKMaM0soI17lcAV6609Wc-NI2KpKdokvM0NfSSuf1wKplvOYDBPuf9cf_3mCBeSv1RB6-O1yjNKjuKI_S6S7oLXPgb0T0bk/s1782/2023-03-28-21-26-0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1782" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8zLAmAUzu2ab0L1wLIsQG-3g7f9aPpu4Alk2smevR7i2Atj-kscoMORuf1mH0r4FFodw8myvAxUqzEG0wGljPKMaM0soI17lcAV6609Wc-NI2KpKdokvM0NfSSuf1wKplvOYDBPuf9cf_3mCBeSv1RB6-O1yjNKjuKI_S6S7oLXPgb0T0bk/w400-h266/2023-03-28-21-26-0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Years Eve party in Sandusky.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dKmwgx_1nvZ6SypyM7A--Frz_zy8YosoqS8y-7iO3MbpLdc85el3_rr7LZNOE4iskccYbYP2UbJOxky4FsSNJP5zTniZM_FJVJY_0xexVLcFrMJoecMmC-E28gaL9w-TCxc1-OMlUHQGtn8eruOfkmmRf-3kK_zK3NzCid0TlQcI1JyOPuM/s1752/2023-03-28-21-16-0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1752" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dKmwgx_1nvZ6SypyM7A--Frz_zy8YosoqS8y-7iO3MbpLdc85el3_rr7LZNOE4iskccYbYP2UbJOxky4FsSNJP5zTniZM_FJVJY_0xexVLcFrMJoecMmC-E28gaL9w-TCxc1-OMlUHQGtn8eruOfkmmRf-3kK_zK3NzCid0TlQcI1JyOPuM/w400-h270/2023-03-28-21-16-0044.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan, a very pregnant me, Gail Kaspar, and Chrissy.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAl0ABfOGDv5H9mg407UKC2gE7vPxv6IXAYCYBugtYWFT1T-YX4NtEWyDshoOR9XP8EhkroUMjN7aO-q4ehIAyrdUyhvF_Pg_w7Pwl8oVg6k3xtTGaMDNxQiFlQSGB4906kbH7IJ8ecyqQJhzE1AwveCw3gGLRsklOufDJLrikmrkYUSR45U/s1768/2023-03-28-21-16-0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1768" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAl0ABfOGDv5H9mg407UKC2gE7vPxv6IXAYCYBugtYWFT1T-YX4NtEWyDshoOR9XP8EhkroUMjN7aO-q4ehIAyrdUyhvF_Pg_w7Pwl8oVg6k3xtTGaMDNxQiFlQSGB4906kbH7IJ8ecyqQJhzE1AwveCw3gGLRsklOufDJLrikmrkYUSR45U/w400-h268/2023-03-28-21-16-0037.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan, Kellie, and me at the Halloway Reservoir.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJQkMvQ0LNFrgtePs71ujXDVWlRGo5fFFkh8U4VWINhi6LatSN60bcd5n_g6QJp3WQMhSJFoxitFAuqBWS3lCnsyfHEt9ybeWbuPJaTYvnE0dsDAqjGdD5b4x8bgkPSRc2gt_B95OpKp4kDJP9N5vVEj-ToImpwtddHoMwc2sWHml7kXiG_k/s1752/2023-03-28-21-16-0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1752" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJQkMvQ0LNFrgtePs71ujXDVWlRGo5fFFkh8U4VWINhi6LatSN60bcd5n_g6QJp3WQMhSJFoxitFAuqBWS3lCnsyfHEt9ybeWbuPJaTYvnE0dsDAqjGdD5b4x8bgkPSRc2gt_B95OpKp4kDJP9N5vVEj-ToImpwtddHoMwc2sWHml7kXiG_k/w400-h271/2023-03-28-21-16-0024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scrapbooking on Cleveland Ave. Approximately 23 years ago!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcyfTYv2Dn9nT6-EvqY38BE6gynC2x1UT035cprA6wDdB5G7npaH0MJTtQ2TT59MqqOIzVTabewnA5LXFiYaez7xSTFe2gR7FGFydHo5qdvAZghgqVTVzfLQ4ydt2nCePyQQ-1AZaKu40n-VyxQgJ9a8VfK4iPRb2pLZfCGiOITGeXAF91Fg/s1452/2023-03-28-21-05-0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1452" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcyfTYv2Dn9nT6-EvqY38BE6gynC2x1UT035cprA6wDdB5G7npaH0MJTtQ2TT59MqqOIzVTabewnA5LXFiYaez7xSTFe2gR7FGFydHo5qdvAZghgqVTVzfLQ4ydt2nCePyQQ-1AZaKu40n-VyxQgJ9a8VfK4iPRb2pLZfCGiOITGeXAF91Fg/w400-h285/2023-03-28-21-05-0038.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bachelorette party.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HRie1D5sah5zrHw2MaqeUXszd2597X3tZRImSWVP3eOoZ11Nq9wdLDkWAp550yT5kevD0jvTzIZeCgBerrhaD1kLJaLvY7x4MQMednnwS4Xm0VJ8JvPwRtTSSZ18pfn0lhCSZTjLdgMavSp9T3DsCRJRFG3wDrbBLl_uZgH-zSe-X_hpNc0/s1756/2023-03-28-21-05-0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1756" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HRie1D5sah5zrHw2MaqeUXszd2597X3tZRImSWVP3eOoZ11Nq9wdLDkWAp550yT5kevD0jvTzIZeCgBerrhaD1kLJaLvY7x4MQMednnwS4Xm0VJ8JvPwRtTSSZ18pfn0lhCSZTjLdgMavSp9T3DsCRJRFG3wDrbBLl_uZgH-zSe-X_hpNc0/w400-h270/2023-03-28-21-05-0021.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A surprise romantic weekend getaway with Ken.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTc4j63ZgNaHoc1fTTuRBOugKtXhda5bAxdYh1ggOjV9mO9c25IBqK1Xu1wsNA7WNPFb0_zL5hd5TfFoiKdXalhHuTBScx2hz9_HP2IhEKTutGqCFclqkLG34S4gurbMyxBfy8TpTrLXcuS2r4z4cp_TqZ7_T55X30vtGiPWtt54ZnCnZeJac/s2046/2023-03-28-21-05-0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="1474" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTc4j63ZgNaHoc1fTTuRBOugKtXhda5bAxdYh1ggOjV9mO9c25IBqK1Xu1wsNA7WNPFb0_zL5hd5TfFoiKdXalhHuTBScx2hz9_HP2IhEKTutGqCFclqkLG34S4gurbMyxBfy8TpTrLXcuS2r4z4cp_TqZ7_T55X30vtGiPWtt54ZnCnZeJac/w289-h400/2023-03-28-21-05-0003.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All dressed up for Archie and Angie's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXTjlvpgJPciHtkLtXwVLs2vzocNNTHpYGd37tvr_F5z7WSR3vWz6rRKZGbEO5x68jlWHL4m7etOb9YEhlvtr7YT7GFRVwu8zc4894ke8XsvnKHJPY5e_9MuoZLk8u7UCt5lzMFKgzjD_QGTBIU7Lpr8kTnmB78XSyqZsIgbVWXtqiRKqb1o/s1200/underdress3_7008731977_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXTjlvpgJPciHtkLtXwVLs2vzocNNTHpYGd37tvr_F5z7WSR3vWz6rRKZGbEO5x68jlWHL4m7etOb9YEhlvtr7YT7GFRVwu8zc4894ke8XsvnKHJPY5e_9MuoZLk8u7UCt5lzMFKgzjD_QGTBIU7Lpr8kTnmB78XSyqZsIgbVWXtqiRKqb1o/w400-h400/underdress3_7008731977_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXldcX2UhO71R8kO4VlpoREXpNLw4R-C4T-DLpI3R8psj-rIqoEPwd-Hd3JT37YSFxYywjRP9qIi9MqxrmzUCA7iLrbCGA3nwNEqsHPfG8ShGiP3D4P9uBL_7eQrHM0H8Uo8IVjmRNa30S_Avis6vmn03i5DsaX9MyjVQ6CE03r2uVbHSxOYs/s1786/2023-03-26-21-02-0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1786" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXldcX2UhO71R8kO4VlpoREXpNLw4R-C4T-DLpI3R8psj-rIqoEPwd-Hd3JT37YSFxYywjRP9qIi9MqxrmzUCA7iLrbCGA3nwNEqsHPfG8ShGiP3D4P9uBL_7eQrHM0H8Uo8IVjmRNa30S_Avis6vmn03i5DsaX9MyjVQ6CE03r2uVbHSxOYs/w400-h265/2023-03-26-21-02-0006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken Young, Uncle David, Ken, and my dad in Wawa, Canada.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBAzddbs2azLVruC3wg5X6SF3y2rT7AoqbheeGUNhOrkStk7dfgNg79fSPBaohKHbw2UABGt0LQZDzellCfrLydNPt2qYH-0lWL6HNQDCXmk5OEqdZotovekuDja2Q_399n_locWN4eZw3J5Cp1piwKGTJukVLotuEBzYB4Nk8az2Oh_bPDg/s1746/2023-03-26-20-54-0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1746" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBAzddbs2azLVruC3wg5X6SF3y2rT7AoqbheeGUNhOrkStk7dfgNg79fSPBaohKHbw2UABGt0LQZDzellCfrLydNPt2qYH-0lWL6HNQDCXmk5OEqdZotovekuDja2Q_399n_locWN4eZw3J5Cp1piwKGTJukVLotuEBzYB4Nk8az2Oh_bPDg/w400-h271/2023-03-26-20-54-0037.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken mowing the lawn with the boys on his lap. That had to be a challenge!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg2YSNGuxZsRbQ9mnlZoPNbgeVlsgK4P1O6AjEp0v9OXIyTKw7F7p06fOXe09-HVpSmxRHcooxvyh3_koXELWbaARSIU_9NdhQI-bH_L-kInSxNR2BZqQ5bRhgtkU6TsLIpjTD0ppY6gX6YRTyKYvZOLEnJxW5ibMkCvxSxdyVTdv6h3s2I4/s1744/2023-03-25-23-17-0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1744" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg2YSNGuxZsRbQ9mnlZoPNbgeVlsgK4P1O6AjEp0v9OXIyTKw7F7p06fOXe09-HVpSmxRHcooxvyh3_koXELWbaARSIU_9NdhQI-bH_L-kInSxNR2BZqQ5bRhgtkU6TsLIpjTD0ppY6gX6YRTyKYvZOLEnJxW5ibMkCvxSxdyVTdv6h3s2I4/w400-h271/2023-03-25-23-17-0033.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearing the property so we could build our house.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsTRFOqQXvNLD6gFZ0YiA0vTevoUZ7EaqQnde7FhLnO_T4o1J6vCkJMV4vNBzR9VauCfZc4KLU0tosSVMi_Ac6BzN-rdgvnIIDM8bFCMsEcP7aobzRkZRuR2UHHQy56UKwO-csxGDocepj7BsQb5O7b15TlvLQZFwv4kx997SQNUdpBP_L6A/s1764/2023-03-25-23-21-0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1764" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsTRFOqQXvNLD6gFZ0YiA0vTevoUZ7EaqQnde7FhLnO_T4o1J6vCkJMV4vNBzR9VauCfZc4KLU0tosSVMi_Ac6BzN-rdgvnIIDM8bFCMsEcP7aobzRkZRuR2UHHQy56UKwO-csxGDocepj7BsQb5O7b15TlvLQZFwv4kx997SQNUdpBP_L6A/w400-h268/2023-03-25-23-21-0012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mural in KC's nursery on Cleveland Ave. Drawn and painted by Jessica and Megan.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7QvrVRwQEzQVVVycvuVVB97MZrYWM7WvMIkmZ2kVXPiHsABPj5uqZ35U0MSS12MYrzHavJ0XbxB-BeGo0oCDP2mvI7yJ5G0AkuUyVp8sPeXl0uMx2xesnull_O91nNl6HPbZzwOtbI42_tPvUZvhEF3NRpxOm64op0KIju4w7oyVyMlQkfE/s1460/2023-03-26-17-37-0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1460" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7QvrVRwQEzQVVVycvuVVB97MZrYWM7WvMIkmZ2kVXPiHsABPj5uqZ35U0MSS12MYrzHavJ0XbxB-BeGo0oCDP2mvI7yJ5G0AkuUyVp8sPeXl0uMx2xesnull_O91nNl6HPbZzwOtbI42_tPvUZvhEF3NRpxOm64op0KIju4w7oyVyMlQkfE/w400-h283/2023-03-26-17-37-0011.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ronnie and Troy's wedding. I wasn't even dating Ken yet!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIO_EXp4b9ndk2v2ozvOgheNmvxtKQ_ga68uxCx1TGiXIPE9AgDeL7-o2FfGUf5GANylAkNd6WGtYs8ZJymcZ1fW8LVWsuqm_r157r0YI8Ahnx3tahKGGY3njrf4FQXz9BFba30NMeZls3khjP9Jh9QdmI7RWDbSPOkgwjBfwvchEMtZjSqao/s1462/2023-03-26-20-54-0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1462" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIO_EXp4b9ndk2v2ozvOgheNmvxtKQ_ga68uxCx1TGiXIPE9AgDeL7-o2FfGUf5GANylAkNd6WGtYs8ZJymcZ1fW8LVWsuqm_r157r0YI8Ahnx3tahKGGY3njrf4FQXz9BFba30NMeZls3khjP9Jh9QdmI7RWDbSPOkgwjBfwvchEMtZjSqao/w400-h283/2023-03-26-20-54-0016.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Las Vegas honeymoon. Me standing in front of the Luxor.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE9YpamP9WbVFr0mdAzkHEVsfpuRsD3o-8f70XcV73kRcXukwt7uQQx6D1l5eoD92LlQPBqQprRKv3KZ-nbjAbLybedF7vL5ZqeiqEL3cdi7sigwtOQnA7_e_vP-4NZ8FlVhwGudeXYE1c4-sRUm0W9hXvKzQTl0Qprn8LfqTYkL4oK_VhOs/s1464/2023-03-26-10-57-0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="1464" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE9YpamP9WbVFr0mdAzkHEVsfpuRsD3o-8f70XcV73kRcXukwt7uQQx6D1l5eoD92LlQPBqQprRKv3KZ-nbjAbLybedF7vL5ZqeiqEL3cdi7sigwtOQnA7_e_vP-4NZ8FlVhwGudeXYE1c4-sRUm0W9hXvKzQTl0Qprn8LfqTYkL4oK_VhOs/w400-h281/2023-03-26-10-57-0027.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My junior prom.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauI4i_VsOdZw47ojmE6ynLSFpZOPBqnIAjaae7QG7r0HORAIgQzQUZOJcyl3yRyZii7QiY4izoUczA-3h290_BADGo7taiev8Wl-EwgZliDRSGpMQB99qJEUX-Q6mzs9oinCkUlevZQt4gBvTXybGr1KuaFW3Pohy9eILevohl0dojogqVeo/s1466/2023-03-26-10-57-0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1466" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauI4i_VsOdZw47ojmE6ynLSFpZOPBqnIAjaae7QG7r0HORAIgQzQUZOJcyl3yRyZii7QiY4izoUczA-3h290_BADGo7taiev8Wl-EwgZliDRSGpMQB99qJEUX-Q6mzs9oinCkUlevZQt4gBvTXybGr1KuaFW3Pohy9eILevohl0dojogqVeo/w400-h283/2023-03-26-10-57-0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken's senior prom with my cousin Tonya and her future husband, Eric.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNdi_tGznv9dlbFqi0GHy5OGuDKAMTkqUhYxmHxcUG2d3ElFljX7tFI2bzbFPckFXc3x4_Y3tbPyGqnuEHnR8HWAqDOMPT359JLXeGd1DTCQlFtJKP5ibtJktArWmRD99olgxyRvd61-J9S_f5gyOez2IyiPBGCttfLJugrFqHS8iFBeyAP8/s2080/2023-03-26-20-46-0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1482" data-original-width="2080" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNdi_tGznv9dlbFqi0GHy5OGuDKAMTkqUhYxmHxcUG2d3ElFljX7tFI2bzbFPckFXc3x4_Y3tbPyGqnuEHnR8HWAqDOMPT359JLXeGd1DTCQlFtJKP5ibtJktArWmRD99olgxyRvd61-J9S_f5gyOez2IyiPBGCttfLJugrFqHS8iFBeyAP8/w400-h285/2023-03-26-20-46-0024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken fishing in the Gulf of Mexico when he and Kenny went to Louisiana.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Px4pZjtusGVOxPg_qKKJV_xyeM5AO9ZqIbA44RwPuLwKfMiLsg5O-ZtHfee_BNkWrw8m6oOVo-pg4XBpH5NiuQ7hvfdfoKXck-X1-gEbclRS9ke4OeR6VJCyGjDkWsnb_fmZa-5VRAsl2AvqvC1DEUKjLX59pxMFXKidohLpkEfzeuyHJKM/s1758/2023-03-26-20-39-0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1758" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Px4pZjtusGVOxPg_qKKJV_xyeM5AO9ZqIbA44RwPuLwKfMiLsg5O-ZtHfee_BNkWrw8m6oOVo-pg4XBpH5NiuQ7hvfdfoKXck-X1-gEbclRS9ke4OeR6VJCyGjDkWsnb_fmZa-5VRAsl2AvqvC1DEUKjLX59pxMFXKidohLpkEfzeuyHJKM/w400-h269/2023-03-26-20-39-0031.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cash. He was the first Yorkie I ever owned. Such a good boy.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxSPRtjLBrqJ-5-KO8nmLeqgs5kPAgRJw2GtmeyNTRbsNl_4dacdgJMJk-KdHYw8DYQRr2tXb8JKxwlO8iKeugCzLwI02zku0jmsccp1-gW7ZFrOSOjdHttOSK3Oze2zDAlb8PzcC6HPr8USjxM3RWNb9hXW1E3sMSx3L0xHAEcKgVbT63LE/s1754/2023-03-26-20-39-0047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1754" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxSPRtjLBrqJ-5-KO8nmLeqgs5kPAgRJw2GtmeyNTRbsNl_4dacdgJMJk-KdHYw8DYQRr2tXb8JKxwlO8iKeugCzLwI02zku0jmsccp1-gW7ZFrOSOjdHttOSK3Oze2zDAlb8PzcC6HPr8USjxM3RWNb9hXW1E3sMSx3L0xHAEcKgVbT63LE/w400-h270/2023-03-26-20-39-0047.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken went on an ice fishing trip with his friends. I think this is Ken.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcivhs0OOw2kdYTn6NUZst2o0rPUICGwG0uD9yYtyxDOwg5yXk-evEgeWW924Kp2D3lMkg7AUxDy6PxPzfe3mBCUi_r-xUEDDFtGQ-Yb_W-nc9LVNpAzDXqjvCZ8LMKZJ6nzeZc6a0J18ID5UQfv77ncQiXsJgDh025ruY-Tg8YcEdteyEftk/s1758/2023-03-26-20-39-0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1758" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcivhs0OOw2kdYTn6NUZst2o0rPUICGwG0uD9yYtyxDOwg5yXk-evEgeWW924Kp2D3lMkg7AUxDy6PxPzfe3mBCUi_r-xUEDDFtGQ-Yb_W-nc9LVNpAzDXqjvCZ8LMKZJ6nzeZc6a0J18ID5UQfv77ncQiXsJgDh025ruY-Tg8YcEdteyEftk/w400-h269/2023-03-26-20-39-0025.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KC, Gage, and Trevor going fishing with Grandpa Sherman.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfpT0dZt16SCKP3ecL3-eEA7hOKM0vT6vsRPMJODiPdSJ9IxJJMkPGpyDr7yjfX60UrM8w8uJOsuNk33rAAV-0wAPvZEYzeVtYp_B0fhW_z7Muk9x6LTHILvizCVyQvEQFW8Q3LjPp1xc0YmU9Vc_cfoz0LsMWfgN6ZQd9DIG7-7kEP-Utl8/s1754/2023-03-26-20-39-0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1754" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfpT0dZt16SCKP3ecL3-eEA7hOKM0vT6vsRPMJODiPdSJ9IxJJMkPGpyDr7yjfX60UrM8w8uJOsuNk33rAAV-0wAPvZEYzeVtYp_B0fhW_z7Muk9x6LTHILvizCVyQvEQFW8Q3LjPp1xc0YmU9Vc_cfoz0LsMWfgN6ZQd9DIG7-7kEP-Utl8/w400-h270/2023-03-26-20-39-0014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KC at hunter's safety.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxe3j4VgAhUfX9VEqYIdGr5TH4YGIyzwStCgFFWU4vFu9uP6h6ScoBSSokreWFX0Z5DSMCm74ZR0_DuYYs900_CP8stQehXdoR-y0b5xNImEkQRymogGC_WFfKJ4L7KCepW-dbFAotin95w7xgCq9Hn7FaOs1HayvrXYLu_fP8_uUBnJ5NReM/s1778/2023-03-26-20-39-0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="1778" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxe3j4VgAhUfX9VEqYIdGr5TH4YGIyzwStCgFFWU4vFu9uP6h6ScoBSSokreWFX0Z5DSMCm74ZR0_DuYYs900_CP8stQehXdoR-y0b5xNImEkQRymogGC_WFfKJ4L7KCepW-dbFAotin95w7xgCq9Hn7FaOs1HayvrXYLu_fP8_uUBnJ5NReM/w400-h266/2023-03-26-20-39-0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michigan's inland waterway with Phil and Beth.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6FfpU1-WE2iT7tUd8mxNZosU8FAFdKCVGwg-JJZN5LtwCHVtcZ7LETKcAOAdPqq8UQg7wUyp0BPGIqVh5VuHViaQDbjp8_VxC8jVQPsNd-Kgox6g0iID7i-ImOlmPry5YzefAyPbTPyTBpseQOLvdKjTofSZgH0JvzybZmD5cN-Ikr9K4-8/s1336/2023-03-26-17-16-0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1336" data-original-width="1034" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6FfpU1-WE2iT7tUd8mxNZosU8FAFdKCVGwg-JJZN5LtwCHVtcZ7LETKcAOAdPqq8UQg7wUyp0BPGIqVh5VuHViaQDbjp8_VxC8jVQPsNd-Kgox6g0iID7i-ImOlmPry5YzefAyPbTPyTBpseQOLvdKjTofSZgH0JvzybZmD5cN-Ikr9K4-8/w310-h400/2023-03-26-17-16-0003.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bridal shower in 1994!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgrzNUioSeGf1XPnQuuy8QCg260sPGBQArn9L6U-Lt7wUEmfsy2XM7kQ5beJr1o2tQj3uO_t2282-hsFIerJGQlDVpkPd5jfR8CvQ6H-oiXDSNRxebxgAN6H9aGPj_bxSEEwQSYtIAnekAMrmyog8DbkK-nn8HWa7kGoFgxWR0hvNUmVvUO4/s1440/2023-03-25-23-45-0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1440" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgrzNUioSeGf1XPnQuuy8QCg260sPGBQArn9L6U-Lt7wUEmfsy2XM7kQ5beJr1o2tQj3uO_t2282-hsFIerJGQlDVpkPd5jfR8CvQ6H-oiXDSNRxebxgAN6H9aGPj_bxSEEwQSYtIAnekAMrmyog8DbkK-nn8HWa7kGoFgxWR0hvNUmVvUO4/w400-h288/2023-03-25-23-45-0018.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan and Sarah's powderpuff team.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit2Nyfdw1HhSZX0A8ihGDIqbbEI5PYacLEKWWNKjhmp1oo8D8gjBn26a7gsEKkD7qR6JPv35tM5upGj-jdGy6OdlvMvyuK5VfASMrqJUA6AWdu5fWkUJbR98UqJxEfUsru0wy1SbpE4tl266CnImvDUqnJa9JNEH2Z2ieEVqDEacecB1FAjoA/s1454/2023-03-26-00-25-0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1454" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit2Nyfdw1HhSZX0A8ihGDIqbbEI5PYacLEKWWNKjhmp1oo8D8gjBn26a7gsEKkD7qR6JPv35tM5upGj-jdGy6OdlvMvyuK5VfASMrqJUA6AWdu5fWkUJbR98UqJxEfUsru0wy1SbpE4tl266CnImvDUqnJa9JNEH2Z2ieEVqDEacecB1FAjoA/w400-h284/2023-03-26-00-25-0038.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spring vacation in Florida. Went to visit my wintering great-grandparents.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWvALU2HmiImRAtcTrrgqJjYlJVoI7Ar_xicpqXelsbc8_RcwkqkRIW6EqSaOAMoCIt0UWMP5MXcQOnsgdXnPrrZuf0e0hxPxDTTdk2ctrS-kkMZJoeJtkiSBGNOX250t8id86s-SIz9VnjEnXxAuYi1383EGh-xec-tUcZuX6gL_0CS7q38/s1454/2023-03-26-10-57-0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1454" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWvALU2HmiImRAtcTrrgqJjYlJVoI7Ar_xicpqXelsbc8_RcwkqkRIW6EqSaOAMoCIt0UWMP5MXcQOnsgdXnPrrZuf0e0hxPxDTTdk2ctrS-kkMZJoeJtkiSBGNOX250t8id86s-SIz9VnjEnXxAuYi1383EGh-xec-tUcZuX6gL_0CS7q38/w400-h285/2023-03-26-10-57-0041.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graduating with my Associate's degree.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1C9cVzHF3l5QZjiZ1PJM3Il7JbeHXcuAVR_JHS8FrZnWsfUOq4BbefhNLnsHD9xcWHbC0S0f2T465UeaX0nde3Mp-tocjYXYeWJPzWYbU6nQRUksMRRTWSknbahmSL2dgMwp341vQuKM88Wqe2TVeEQqetQiSM0yC9ajM6mTz8AblV398Cg/s1766/2023-03-26-11-43-0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1766" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1C9cVzHF3l5QZjiZ1PJM3Il7JbeHXcuAVR_JHS8FrZnWsfUOq4BbefhNLnsHD9xcWHbC0S0f2T465UeaX0nde3Mp-tocjYXYeWJPzWYbU6nQRUksMRRTWSknbahmSL2dgMwp341vQuKM88Wqe2TVeEQqetQiSM0yC9ajM6mTz8AblV398Cg/w400-h268/2023-03-26-11-43-0017.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason admiring dad's 12-point buck.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAprzYhoYcvebvITbtRAwTWepdTMsCrZWzRSd74Hrfmcz49Is9WU61Ihc8dYXDd3msRhYCvtk4qBA-vJ7RgbT-8XCBdsRusDTJsiz8w80SO_QCl8I8BN5riY_iXUdeuVDiACmMtZ5Rc9CcA4ZFu-58ghinHAx2_0PvbkB7sD04VTFhvuNnQ-k/s1746/2023-03-26-11-32-0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1746" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAprzYhoYcvebvITbtRAwTWepdTMsCrZWzRSd74Hrfmcz49Is9WU61Ihc8dYXDd3msRhYCvtk4qBA-vJ7RgbT-8XCBdsRusDTJsiz8w80SO_QCl8I8BN5riY_iXUdeuVDiACmMtZ5Rc9CcA4ZFu-58ghinHAx2_0PvbkB7sD04VTFhvuNnQ-k/w400-h271/2023-03-26-11-32-0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken and KC getting ready to go bunny hunting.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwvapESb1gKQ00vySjUAd2OSKYnAkzyr8hQcZZfaQeDxINJAyw0fwPGiJEiKLdF0AEZYR2nvXLWS421-SIkGIvpgJnfbQom59JFSLvPOh08R67jYWioF1VgcGzr-VZEYD6xGyQHr2DQSNR3qFZA4yW-WAG6D1PZpxemCGX6WdJQQ_KoZIHXM/s1758/2023-03-26-11-22-0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1758" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwvapESb1gKQ00vySjUAd2OSKYnAkzyr8hQcZZfaQeDxINJAyw0fwPGiJEiKLdF0AEZYR2nvXLWS421-SIkGIvpgJnfbQom59JFSLvPOh08R67jYWioF1VgcGzr-VZEYD6xGyQHr2DQSNR3qFZA4yW-WAG6D1PZpxemCGX6WdJQQ_KoZIHXM/w400-h269/2023-03-26-11-22-0010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Ty's family's cabin.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvdJKgefJjdKZ1KlOHRIXgkj-3_ABYmegZHCwVzDwsqPh5d_rDOOO5UT8r7QePERUfAUiofTCP82m9y1CLPOekqPjozjDb-IliU-AQcaAq3UUjHB0AgLcAABe5MjhXXGBtbqIEA8ASsp-6Ha0Y0re48nHgCBWFy47cHBL7WLUEorZZiPk5R8/s1458/2023-03-26-11-22-0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1458" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvdJKgefJjdKZ1KlOHRIXgkj-3_ABYmegZHCwVzDwsqPh5d_rDOOO5UT8r7QePERUfAUiofTCP82m9y1CLPOekqPjozjDb-IliU-AQcaAq3UUjHB0AgLcAABe5MjhXXGBtbqIEA8ASsp-6Ha0Y0re48nHgCBWFy47cHBL7WLUEorZZiPk5R8/w400-h284/2023-03-26-11-22-0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken, Ty, and Archie at Ty's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf4l0DJ3h462w8l9qFmfUoh7-q8TlUwY5YPCM4jXb0uCJrH0XGZDIacJNvMyIvpscm0JS13Aut9ls8aebNfmOwCPEXyhumvWkW3FNmEpJuFbTWHUVs32ZGBbI-mHG_A-7Hw4nZwTOBoLqUejGPoIWodxxy9hT1q949x3pygA0wjWQmDaMmiHc/s1772/2023-03-26-10-33-0047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="1772" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf4l0DJ3h462w8l9qFmfUoh7-q8TlUwY5YPCM4jXb0uCJrH0XGZDIacJNvMyIvpscm0JS13Aut9ls8aebNfmOwCPEXyhumvWkW3FNmEpJuFbTWHUVs32ZGBbI-mHG_A-7Hw4nZwTOBoLqUejGPoIWodxxy9hT1q949x3pygA0wjWQmDaMmiHc/w400-h269/2023-03-26-10-33-0047.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason and Jaime's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVugKJNKD4ZEnzIFqawW6OrP-GPMmL-6o627FZXAZERH1XeYIT2BtpCmgVXsX677mpE4po6r1jV4x66RxzRvE6RP1EFk78bXWqsGsUroUMMbtcMGWZaAJiw5h6zImmrG-m6dQGCrvbM2G4aEBNrbhhANyakv3ak_xp70hXN6iJch5HAIV4VE/s1482/2023-03-26-10-33-0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1482" data-original-width="1146" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVugKJNKD4ZEnzIFqawW6OrP-GPMmL-6o627FZXAZERH1XeYIT2BtpCmgVXsX677mpE4po6r1jV4x66RxzRvE6RP1EFk78bXWqsGsUroUMMbtcMGWZaAJiw5h6zImmrG-m6dQGCrvbM2G4aEBNrbhhANyakv3ak_xp70hXN6iJch5HAIV4VE/w309-h400/2023-03-26-10-33-0007.jpg" width="309" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken's senior pictures - 1989.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjiX4fhmc_EyAQ8aPr2X_WXr7TZ90fC9mfwT_sbGI_hj1un8uMc1-c5ASezuMOv4UdZAPe-silzSU7u0jxT7Ca22MFwYX1mazYBIa4iH4Ejuhb90FqGEGjuYh8BQ7yl9bvVncVIDQTUqC6ph3Biqog7foaG-iqVXxR8iextS7jtrrBcVpxW4/s991/2023-03-26-10-20-0047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="991" data-original-width="696" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjiX4fhmc_EyAQ8aPr2X_WXr7TZ90fC9mfwT_sbGI_hj1un8uMc1-c5ASezuMOv4UdZAPe-silzSU7u0jxT7Ca22MFwYX1mazYBIa4iH4Ejuhb90FqGEGjuYh8BQ7yl9bvVncVIDQTUqC6ph3Biqog7foaG-iqVXxR8iextS7jtrrBcVpxW4/w281-h400/2023-03-26-10-20-0047.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terri's senior picture.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAZhlz-yQ6x9nW7pPGjYJJYIenANihwblT3wqY9Ogt7-PfHZOtEykFo8tID6DxsJO880yfZHBK7AUvrnpNxzT7Lk8O28F1Aw05gnWcsQOx2RI2N6giFwFW8ku2R5WpfIuvgYERVtIRilqJEeRziivEY-H0mNXG1__i4KalK8wcUlzB8ss1MU/s1544/2023-03-25-22-23-0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1544" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAZhlz-yQ6x9nW7pPGjYJJYIenANihwblT3wqY9Ogt7-PfHZOtEykFo8tID6DxsJO880yfZHBK7AUvrnpNxzT7Lk8O28F1Aw05gnWcsQOx2RI2N6giFwFW8ku2R5WpfIuvgYERVtIRilqJEeRziivEY-H0mNXG1__i4KalK8wcUlzB8ss1MU/w400-h268/2023-03-25-22-23-0035.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken and his mom on a beach in Hawaii.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCMRCu5EDeXAcrZA7AqUyMl1bsNuS03TK9VGA0mm_Sh4pA_9z8P9ZaTswvIE4WSLnEmoMrSw1cJONJapW_-Nwj55RY9X9juK7NlpeNJxuyU4jgGj2Q-axkZOqDPpEQHfdI5-MNz-iJfjWGHR6TB0DBy4munJ5NG9-7T6qK7-rfDfJoGqRHug/s908/2023-03-26-10-20-0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="908" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCMRCu5EDeXAcrZA7AqUyMl1bsNuS03TK9VGA0mm_Sh4pA_9z8P9ZaTswvIE4WSLnEmoMrSw1cJONJapW_-Nwj55RY9X9juK7NlpeNJxuyU4jgGj2Q-axkZOqDPpEQHfdI5-MNz-iJfjWGHR6TB0DBy4munJ5NG9-7T6qK7-rfDfJoGqRHug/w400-h388/2023-03-26-10-20-0018.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken and Ronnie with their mom.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjquttMEoYcgLwC5yoKTEvhiUrB3C6cSqabxWlO-bixkwRxjb2e-rWJyj9-fJuHk6eSsFp1UZrKPn6zyp4MNg4A-yvc8Qb0w5vQwll9CXnG29J63q53IBy8gGIMId9jyf_bxwnOyCszPMI9WllqhDjdPEKEgvecs4eobykLNcQYGW0bB8_4ukk/s1462/2023-03-26-00-04-0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1462" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjquttMEoYcgLwC5yoKTEvhiUrB3C6cSqabxWlO-bixkwRxjb2e-rWJyj9-fJuHk6eSsFp1UZrKPn6zyp4MNg4A-yvc8Qb0w5vQwll9CXnG29J63q53IBy8gGIMId9jyf_bxwnOyCszPMI9WllqhDjdPEKEgvecs4eobykLNcQYGW0bB8_4ukk/w400-h246/2023-03-26-00-04-0029.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing at Ken and Terri's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfZpw1X8Uj7E9emwvuvUSRzV9bYXjjiPGx-RGNP9WlY4udIQpgNm0Vc8JrV_NyPDwuBoW1YDU1qppNw_DlVt7tsYHHmXji34tC4KUOf9BUaivHddRpm2jij2VN4VSeyD855_WSAWfeT48VvzQOwPtLb5lJ3HTkFnapPNEMl2Xt1uxHkH6d9Q/s1544/2023-03-26-10-05-0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="1544" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfZpw1X8Uj7E9emwvuvUSRzV9bYXjjiPGx-RGNP9WlY4udIQpgNm0Vc8JrV_NyPDwuBoW1YDU1qppNw_DlVt7tsYHHmXji34tC4KUOf9BUaivHddRpm2jij2VN4VSeyD855_WSAWfeT48VvzQOwPtLb5lJ3HTkFnapPNEMl2Xt1uxHkH6d9Q/w400-h260/2023-03-26-10-05-0034.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken's high school baseball team.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RcvH_L-lDNtVW2W9RqJipYpbj66Ote7ruVrRMEuKBVkMyAV7lw3j5usZ3tY6KYFrTvnJbaJytgxVGfJX9Xj855dFC_jFy78Rw8S7YiRIqwvL4W6ChCEdJGJCkNV43f18cE89fg0dF0wq9ZbwyTA2xPX0_Omoq_odjHdUBS-FuknPFg3Qjt4/s1452/2023-03-26-10-05-0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1452" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RcvH_L-lDNtVW2W9RqJipYpbj66Ote7ruVrRMEuKBVkMyAV7lw3j5usZ3tY6KYFrTvnJbaJytgxVGfJX9Xj855dFC_jFy78Rw8S7YiRIqwvL4W6ChCEdJGJCkNV43f18cE89fg0dF0wq9ZbwyTA2xPX0_Omoq_odjHdUBS-FuknPFg3Qjt4/w400-h285/2023-03-26-10-05-0042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uncle Terri, Aunt Lorraine, and Tonya at the derby.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcEofMlUFncXG7ESHiKTNlFJLkWWKObW5a0nGAMs01V-6SBWGkiEFyXg0Anddn7doyoCOUkEel_xjozxyvJqBpOrJqjpTz13sKuzJquIePvIOiH5Odvt9HfmcBRpxe2kj9W78ZeYGHXCmQ47NbyZAquJW7doa1LUET5ODQt3ID8n9Sjaiz_Q/s1302/2023-03-26-10-05-0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1302" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcEofMlUFncXG7ESHiKTNlFJLkWWKObW5a0nGAMs01V-6SBWGkiEFyXg0Anddn7doyoCOUkEel_xjozxyvJqBpOrJqjpTz13sKuzJquIePvIOiH5Odvt9HfmcBRpxe2kj9W78ZeYGHXCmQ47NbyZAquJW7doa1LUET5ODQt3ID8n9Sjaiz_Q/w400-h318/2023-03-26-10-05-0028.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken getting his Associate's degree. Pictured with Troy, Ronnie, and Andrew.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1TVlyzsQJkrhnDFtmOHkfNCdz395ZhBluZI49M8pLM4EXeA4q5zfoBrRIzbwEMDmhv9bNaINKerPyGSjlfU0gxkUeO7y8Qq_Zxc2S46xtTzxjcA8_M2oEqeOrf0d5qPghRY3VFK0Qt13vxsrERpkxYiKoZcJ_jqV_ZTPxdnw5xTaTIP2wzQ/s1460/2023-03-26-00-25-0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1038" data-original-width="1460" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1TVlyzsQJkrhnDFtmOHkfNCdz395ZhBluZI49M8pLM4EXeA4q5zfoBrRIzbwEMDmhv9bNaINKerPyGSjlfU0gxkUeO7y8Qq_Zxc2S46xtTzxjcA8_M2oEqeOrf0d5qPghRY3VFK0Qt13vxsrERpkxYiKoZcJ_jqV_ZTPxdnw5xTaTIP2wzQ/w400-h285/2023-03-26-00-25-0049.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Ken at Dave Dickie's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnm8CStAnFiPva6BUTa1EwyroJideD4qdEfo_GH2sJFaiK8JO0ABHORj-324jEID4hZ6iKkZaGyysP9MJYVg8jC3iC6o_kvWaG7gEhKvOVNSg013P784FWzwAebHd1NxcvnPEIv16MUq7c1cGiXCtKEvWn2iT8kvkXKSR1iIqRi4AEkh7NHo/s1490/2023-03-26-00-25-0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1038" data-original-width="1490" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnm8CStAnFiPva6BUTa1EwyroJideD4qdEfo_GH2sJFaiK8JO0ABHORj-324jEID4hZ6iKkZaGyysP9MJYVg8jC3iC6o_kvWaG7gEhKvOVNSg013P784FWzwAebHd1NxcvnPEIv16MUq7c1cGiXCtKEvWn2iT8kvkXKSR1iIqRi4AEkh7NHo/w400-h279/2023-03-26-00-25-0014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tina playing ball for WKRP.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINixn5ED7FVLxsXf-UHss16P9zHGdLF8WHj6Cq0CCk_QdLSX31PS-8XqXyG1khmfeuIfVVRPIPMQYM8uK0WMUzt3xWYuuCbFcJhVRwlrZsVW5Wp9GuD1Ab4a58KfjUanjUeiD4KhkggWODXfULHDjsNBlUH9rPG4DE83OEbaMbHirAAM-zuA/s1542/2023-03-26-00-25-0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1542" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINixn5ED7FVLxsXf-UHss16P9zHGdLF8WHj6Cq0CCk_QdLSX31PS-8XqXyG1khmfeuIfVVRPIPMQYM8uK0WMUzt3xWYuuCbFcJhVRwlrZsVW5Wp9GuD1Ab4a58KfjUanjUeiD4KhkggWODXfULHDjsNBlUH9rPG4DE83OEbaMbHirAAM-zuA/w400-h269/2023-03-26-00-25-0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken with Todd and Terri Oliver while camping somewhere.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdtx_9nxj1-Uy5p1lx0a-FX6_9cB9N2O-H7s-hfpNsUYIfWnB21BnrT70MThgQirzxukEoymcSXW26bO_lllxMYVz5WnfITZZqCmCOpoescXztF_1piZcx4l7KtnJpxDVhA4ztNivGH0MMQIhv_MVzxXNic_Ty-BqoMHA8pyQTD1tGR6uJ_A/s1750/2023-03-25-23-17-0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1750" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdtx_9nxj1-Uy5p1lx0a-FX6_9cB9N2O-H7s-hfpNsUYIfWnB21BnrT70MThgQirzxukEoymcSXW26bO_lllxMYVz5WnfITZZqCmCOpoescXztF_1piZcx4l7KtnJpxDVhA4ztNivGH0MMQIhv_MVzxXNic_Ty-BqoMHA8pyQTD1tGR6uJ_A/w400-h271/2023-03-25-23-17-0002.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken trying to help Gage at the Stover parade. KC is in the corner. Ken Young and Zach above him.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfGtYISaN7voLAnUkFl9WSw9pNWxC2LHPywdOcscvl0lvFKL9X7bEyjgUCeq6hr5ophUt39bkiAqJ2NYMlV9VHmdvGKD73GC4rar4JjWhR3yEmSvxgm1d3TSocu7VaWNEmaFvvFkAC3EtuoovjACF7HmTaOweT1XueonLyKyrKrbKPZaQs7A/s1754/2023-03-25-22-55-0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1754" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfGtYISaN7voLAnUkFl9WSw9pNWxC2LHPywdOcscvl0lvFKL9X7bEyjgUCeq6hr5ophUt39bkiAqJ2NYMlV9VHmdvGKD73GC4rar4JjWhR3yEmSvxgm1d3TSocu7VaWNEmaFvvFkAC3EtuoovjACF7HmTaOweT1XueonLyKyrKrbKPZaQs7A/w400-h270/2023-03-25-22-55-0025.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rennaisance Festival. Megan, Donna, Chrissy, Jenny, and Jeanie.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAWK9wHnQwZxjrmSOUKMZ7WllS88qEmKy2SDjKl5rhCdS_QDO5Kt_d1WYCWNohrWtGYBaCWDhtmn2ELN40AmuEn_UCvWgYJWtbhh7Bgx9YJHuqP2rBzjfZ_c4rW021pJNvrWUmk2VQ4sddtljKPc22SMbqQRpIy8iLIyc_3YcHzOhaagskto/s1454/2023-03-25-22-45-0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1454" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAWK9wHnQwZxjrmSOUKMZ7WllS88qEmKy2SDjKl5rhCdS_QDO5Kt_d1WYCWNohrWtGYBaCWDhtmn2ELN40AmuEn_UCvWgYJWtbhh7Bgx9YJHuqP2rBzjfZ_c4rW021pJNvrWUmk2VQ4sddtljKPc22SMbqQRpIy8iLIyc_3YcHzOhaagskto/w400-h285/2023-03-25-22-45-0039.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I believe was Eric Friday's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPWlplj12451T4MROv0vIXQ6IEJGVqbr8yk9Lqed0s3JJqAzgf6LZYAavB0oz3AKMD1413SuPZXbAW6sPKjzEXeVuhuit2WvRyWpVjzjtLPhzy_gTdE79aMbsrde0PhrhXWlz7Pz1G-gjRir72TozHUWjFdsDQcd_Gy810ztn9v5xbyeGTfY/s1760/2023-03-25-22-01-0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1760" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPWlplj12451T4MROv0vIXQ6IEJGVqbr8yk9Lqed0s3JJqAzgf6LZYAavB0oz3AKMD1413SuPZXbAW6sPKjzEXeVuhuit2WvRyWpVjzjtLPhzy_gTdE79aMbsrde0PhrhXWlz7Pz1G-gjRir72TozHUWjFdsDQcd_Gy810ztn9v5xbyeGTfY/w400-h270/2023-03-25-22-01-0041.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Ken at Tonya and Eric's wedding.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>And these were just pictures I put into albums. There are so many scans just free-floating on my cloud that still need to be sorted. I think I probably scanned close to a thousand pictures over the weekend and into Monday night. </p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-73023595694838538932023-03-26T10:35:00.000-04:002023-03-30T11:46:37.971-04:00Disney Dream Vacation<p> </p><table 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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBpkW1CvzW0mWW7IEG9fkKzIPHby11fUwqiUHxGSJx58kewTuqW8mXvq-Ndg8yGh5nl6HpQJNuAW4YgOqt_9fIQCJTErD9gVWm2rsfsc26Tw4Ger0hg6rW0P__oPWWXdkzB-p1zI0hA2R3-L6jWrihDq8ehg9E21COF7TozxwkdOyLhLaJHx4/s4000/20230228_144015.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBpkW1CvzW0mWW7IEG9fkKzIPHby11fUwqiUHxGSJx58kewTuqW8mXvq-Ndg8yGh5nl6HpQJNuAW4YgOqt_9fIQCJTErD9gVWm2rsfsc26Tw4Ger0hg6rW0P__oPWWXdkzB-p1zI0hA2R3-L6jWrihDq8ehg9E21COF7TozxwkdOyLhLaJHx4/w640-h360/20230228_144015.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Disney Dream docked at Castaway Cay.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>I hope to be able to take a major vacation every year. Most of the time, I expect I will be traveling alone because the kids are all getting to that point in their lives when vacation time is precious and they have adventures they want to have that don't include mom. Luckily, that time has not fully materialized just yet. </p><p>In the summer of 2022, I took KC, Allie, and Riley down to Florida for a week's worth of Universal Studios. That meant my 2023 trip would be with Gage and Hallie. For some reason, I really wanted to do a cruise. A Disney cruise, specifically. </p><p>Why Disney? Well, my cousin had taken her kids on a couple of Disney cruises over the years and she loved it. In fact, to this day, she says Royal Caribbean and Disney are her two favorite cruise lines. Knowing this and being a huge Disney fan myself, I was determined to spend the little bit extra (okay a lot more extra) and book with Disney. When I suggested this to the kids, they were open to the idea so we started browsing the options. </p><p>We knew we needed to plan our vacation during their winter break from college. When we spotted the voyage featuring a Marvel Day at Sea, we let our love of the Marvel Universe lead the way. We would visit Disney's private island, Castaway Cay, and Cozumel in the last week of February / first week of March. </p><p>We loved the cruise. Loved it! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V3NPW8gqkqNQW6bYAESw-rQ7OMJgeA2CKjRASwdYW-2KQjUd57zEF2Ajv8nsiNw0Wg5QdGd7DIzKEvm0anX5RCwSsCLjvhmK0YF2TujojWTExCgxEmmrue4rXF59ul_ecl9Z7zYbyZ2r8248a2rH0zzs8kwE-cntjgA6gsG4VXjxXsLTogQ/s4000/20230227_153451.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V3NPW8gqkqNQW6bYAESw-rQ7OMJgeA2CKjRASwdYW-2KQjUd57zEF2Ajv8nsiNw0Wg5QdGd7DIzKEvm0anX5RCwSsCLjvhmK0YF2TujojWTExCgxEmmrue4rXF59ul_ecl9Z7zYbyZ2r8248a2rH0zzs8kwE-cntjgA6gsG4VXjxXsLTogQ/w400-h225/20230227_153451.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hallie, Gage, and Mom at the bar.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When you first walk on the boat, the employees announce your party's surname to the entire boat. I wasn't expecting that and, thinking back on it, imagine I was blushing quite a bit even as I laughed and smiled ear to ear. My face certainly felt hot!<p></p><p>Our room was cozy but we managed to stow away our luggage in the closets and under the bed. There was even a porthole big enough to sit in! The kids took the queen-sized bed and I took the couch, which folded down into a sleeping space big enough for one. It probably helped that I'm pretty much the same height as most ten-year-old children.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9epjb0sd02w7eEk4p0t1IqksRJCjROXC-EKP6BFTrnYQaAmUcCC48f5PPNWfzfaU2GVTviQOIb4AbYhF-UOzB6n33JMZGhDiRHA9aSP4KMVdTKZoWeGNYSFQ7xxXScHCwGUOveS4uDfGxuWXl_bSfRr-TmY6xzclod_s0zAVo9Z5E3l6Xh0/s4000/20230227_142702.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9epjb0sd02w7eEk4p0t1IqksRJCjROXC-EKP6BFTrnYQaAmUcCC48f5PPNWfzfaU2GVTviQOIb4AbYhF-UOzB6n33JMZGhDiRHA9aSP4KMVdTKZoWeGNYSFQ7xxXScHCwGUOveS4uDfGxuWXl_bSfRr-TmY6xzclod_s0zAVo9Z5E3l6Xh0/w225-h400/20230227_142702.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me in my mouse ears.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It should also be noted that while there were a lot of kids on the boat, they were not everywhere. We were easily able to slip away from their chatter and high energy because Disney does an excellent job of creating adult-only spaces. There were entire sections of the ship where children were not allowed, sections we spent a lot of time frequenting. <div><br /></div><div>We were treated to live-action shows in the theatre. The first was The Golden Mickeys. It was cute. Fun. The second show, though, was beautiful and definitely was the theatre highlight for me. The cast recreated the magic of Beauty and the Beast with song, dance, and committed acting. We couldn't record in there or take pictures; they enforced that with surprising dedication, which is why Gage stopped me from being me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our ports of call were Castaway Cay and Cozumel. We set sail on Monday and arrived bright and early on Castaway Cay Tuesday morning. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYI67JOz23tMQR4ua8Kcy2peF4NqD_-yR3U2cq-ap0irXvrsETwDbGjKnvGka9LGCeSNC-QC4XEwXfJ4xZIhc-__Im-VQWIkdgkmUfqqKa5pIrJrJRhF2aJJ9L8Gm_OOhAFbCENbKNCFvY5hK9OpbHuHvUxyjSIiGvnsDO8JBUfAlq6Olt3g/s2784/2023-02-28%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Dream_13.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1856" data-original-width="2784" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYI67JOz23tMQR4ua8Kcy2peF4NqD_-yR3U2cq-ap0irXvrsETwDbGjKnvGka9LGCeSNC-QC4XEwXfJ4xZIhc-__Im-VQWIkdgkmUfqqKa5pIrJrJRhF2aJJ9L8Gm_OOhAFbCENbKNCFvY5hK9OpbHuHvUxyjSIiGvnsDO8JBUfAlq6Olt3g/w400-h266/2023-02-28%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Dream_13.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In port at Castaway Cay.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7a58epv9g_XH8dE2IN1RU90kxJtP9SLstc1s5JpO_ptX3VKkqMqD81Ll9jVm1mhXjYxUTjbq6tDB4ComqmtuZ00wJY1tTztv6pEjZbEjFwbGl8llv-OJwpmMMGaURRZG4yCnzqTszRXHJYwlKSgYFOsMH8aeKEne0Q0oz-xc-Es6P8JyBzZA/s4000/20230228_101232.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7a58epv9g_XH8dE2IN1RU90kxJtP9SLstc1s5JpO_ptX3VKkqMqD81Ll9jVm1mhXjYxUTjbq6tDB4ComqmtuZ00wJY1tTztv6pEjZbEjFwbGl8llv-OJwpmMMGaURRZG4yCnzqTszRXHJYwlKSgYFOsMH8aeKEne0Q0oz-xc-Es6P8JyBzZA/w400-h225/20230228_101232.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view from the beach.</td></tr></tbody></table><div> </div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXFfQyIq4osuVmEGTAsORmNk-9NuMAeqPIWtbIvZ5enCP7JRX1MH7rTsvoyYpm8wUzSr1pxfEqawJlmIjWx9vfIJHvSzdS-6wcd1Sm0_cSY1nfg5VHOU_aqKxmVftO1jm5mKmAIyViUVe--ytMqVyx9xeE6LXVSzuSjnPshlb7ZWTc8ggBHc/s3840/Snapchat-518903964.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXFfQyIq4osuVmEGTAsORmNk-9NuMAeqPIWtbIvZ5enCP7JRX1MH7rTsvoyYpm8wUzSr1pxfEqawJlmIjWx9vfIJHvSzdS-6wcd1Sm0_cSY1nfg5VHOU_aqKxmVftO1jm5mKmAIyViUVe--ytMqVyx9xeE6LXVSzuSjnPshlb7ZWTc8ggBHc/w225-h400/Snapchat-518903964.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gage and Hallie relaxing for the five minutes Gage could sit still.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_IzJH-JMbM0ZCE04jc5YOim5bJ7_Z7cpi7l4C-u1mNdnD5x4mBhrBvVygVuPzORXSR14dlvuL6Le7ApWxnEDsvw0qsfTuHnDFPCNGCsMogO9tNz7FkF619QkD1T2LAWhklzTGiB5lGui7AcnTOy1A0xuCT4XIMf54nRFzDmoH6y7uF3-ONM/s3836/Snapchat-146936725.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3836" data-original-width="2160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_IzJH-JMbM0ZCE04jc5YOim5bJ7_Z7cpi7l4C-u1mNdnD5x4mBhrBvVygVuPzORXSR14dlvuL6Le7ApWxnEDsvw0qsfTuHnDFPCNGCsMogO9tNz7FkF619QkD1T2LAWhklzTGiB5lGui7AcnTOy1A0xuCT4XIMf54nRFzDmoH6y7uF3-ONM/w225-h400/Snapchat-146936725.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cancelled activities due to high winds and big waves.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge85Q70ic_XNZBWkBqdvmFNaOxfWasHLk437GVAT4js5959Rck4oOAfcdnnwrSEey3G-ndDVk-JqUQAJ6V7NYy_6TNtLNGYCgpCJV0Pg_hHuFuObgIvY1SaJxcg-pwSP2C3i6_R8IfX-A98vXY-xyiMQQgxq7_RpP-p_qHz5darWXfRq9XIzY/s1920/VideoCapture_20230228-153509.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge85Q70ic_XNZBWkBqdvmFNaOxfWasHLk437GVAT4js5959Rck4oOAfcdnnwrSEey3G-ndDVk-JqUQAJ6V7NYy_6TNtLNGYCgpCJV0Pg_hHuFuObgIvY1SaJxcg-pwSP2C3i6_R8IfX-A98vXY-xyiMQQgxq7_RpP-p_qHz5darWXfRq9XIzY/w400-h225/VideoCapture_20230228-153509.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, yeah. This happened.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Yep, both of my boys are getting married! We went for a little bike ride and found this picturesque overlook. Gage pulled out a ring - not the right ring because UPS delivered the true engagement ring to our house the day after we left on vacation - and Hallie said yes. The ring he had borrowed from me didn't fit, though, so she had to wait to get a proper stand-in on the boat. </div><div><br /></div><div>After the engagement, we went back to riding bikes and enjoying what time we had left on the island. Again, we stayed mostly in the 18-and-over areas. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day was Marvel Day at Sea. We had several photos scheduled that day. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfWqZMOFe04DKq9doqEZSzo5_K5rjMP0XUBQ0N2SU6B7qn4AdISTYhtoCltRdtGVlPRYpMo2jO5XEpSIPAh1obnRvFUNQ-nT64ZTAFWmMtHO1BD58ZMwav4I2gTKbGm9DGvIcrXDRl3EpNoQV1P_WbuTovs7v_JdPnXDeloTKwIrTn2OhtJM/s2784/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_19.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1856" data-original-width="2784" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfWqZMOFe04DKq9doqEZSzo5_K5rjMP0XUBQ0N2SU6B7qn4AdISTYhtoCltRdtGVlPRYpMo2jO5XEpSIPAh1obnRvFUNQ-nT64ZTAFWmMtHO1BD58ZMwav4I2gTKbGm9DGvIcrXDRl3EpNoQV1P_WbuTovs7v_JdPnXDeloTKwIrTn2OhtJM/w400-h266/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_19.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFC0wmXgZO4RhUSQ8uhYMViFuN6ppsx-Xs-YK-stJN-xfBJT_rQSXHdfV6YY1i-14Ix-nlb9tvFIxoBIULusf3Zm0B_mYXY7rzppLeTSpQXuS94yhZZo8hoNBhMe7fo9snlq0CjYTj6Uo3maV7AGf9kdNX7yJRxLiwZ0_W_ogJ40SmbScb_8/s2784/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1856" data-original-width="2784" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFC0wmXgZO4RhUSQ8uhYMViFuN6ppsx-Xs-YK-stJN-xfBJT_rQSXHdfV6YY1i-14Ix-nlb9tvFIxoBIULusf3Zm0B_mYXY7rzppLeTSpQXuS94yhZZo8hoNBhMe7fo9snlq0CjYTj6Uo3maV7AGf9kdNX7yJRxLiwZ0_W_ogJ40SmbScb_8/w400-h266/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsBxTNUj0-ufs66Nqw_IV5aZfbUV4Tz4mZUDd41d3vhMQJutdTjtRDSep94vg3MNrPwCynZsCC4DbESmdozVrbSYkhnU_XKlOwHjckkxryNophVuV1p-B8Xzc7XkcNQNoqrwE84h_yw6xohe_rBMeW_BNO6SnF1ld6eknc5IDjcfDN_yl3IE/s2784/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1856" data-original-width="2784" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsBxTNUj0-ufs66Nqw_IV5aZfbUV4Tz4mZUDd41d3vhMQJutdTjtRDSep94vg3MNrPwCynZsCC4DbESmdozVrbSYkhnU_XKlOwHjckkxryNophVuV1p-B8Xzc7XkcNQNoqrwE84h_yw6xohe_rBMeW_BNO6SnF1ld6eknc5IDjcfDN_yl3IE/w400-h266/2023-03-01%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_3.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>They also put on a wonderful show at midship that night. It had all the superheroes, many of which we never had the opportunity to get photos with during the day. <br /><br />The next day we put into port at Cozumel. We couldn't rush off and explore, though. We had to stay on the ship until our excursion group was scheduled to meet up and leave for Chankanaab National Park. We had to follow the Sabastian sign.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2B16JD9AWiPZka2Rj2Hyw6eBwdPq9ipqmPJvw-JICd-CKUf_K3KWVohLURaqf49yTmUvq-xn61f8DITibgtFAtjOnSLUuL2ub2gvo8t_lDQP6m4tZRfg2GlVkVokKrXyj8721qgmeSUayJGmXwl9e2dVseFoeIMExNE15kwu2CbrQrRqmMM/s773/Screenshot_20230330_093747_Photos.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="515" data-original-width="773" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2B16JD9AWiPZka2Rj2Hyw6eBwdPq9ipqmPJvw-JICd-CKUf_K3KWVohLURaqf49yTmUvq-xn61f8DITibgtFAtjOnSLUuL2ub2gvo8t_lDQP6m4tZRfg2GlVkVokKrXyj8721qgmeSUayJGmXwl9e2dVseFoeIMExNE15kwu2CbrQrRqmMM/w400-h266/Screenshot_20230330_093747_Photos.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Organizing People Disney Style</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbv9te01WKRNPSl75hl3DPIetMmvTVvPGSRsX8GeDWU1gaA9mP2nXPOlx0aqvsn9Ak2eT0nXPO-RXTL5m4FqdQxzjaQmpJ5vuvidDR0ToJdoZhLZK4-4nQLatSGYnP-f64RRXg7d31thtElbw3WxK0RZoi-nICjmi7Zj7Xi759X_mTOJ9uX4/s2097/20230302_105353.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1181" data-original-width="2097" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbv9te01WKRNPSl75hl3DPIetMmvTVvPGSRsX8GeDWU1gaA9mP2nXPOlx0aqvsn9Ak2eT0nXPO-RXTL5m4FqdQxzjaQmpJ5vuvidDR0ToJdoZhLZK4-4nQLatSGYnP-f64RRXg7d31thtElbw3WxK0RZoi-nICjmi7Zj7Xi759X_mTOJ9uX4/w400-h225/20230302_105353.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">National Park in Cozumel</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was here that I got to cross off a bucket list item. I got to swim with a dolphin! I was so surprised by how soft she felt. Soft and smooth. Supple. Powerful. Yet, gentle, too. Her name was Leia and I'm confident we could have been best friends if we'd only had more time to bond. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI8kQzqZvCekXMceOMNXWOwfUT7qWSrHRKlH6RoxTF4Jjt87ZFVfOfSqkZAKqLnTAPQ6Ok8PloHbkZTYIDBN2wJdja2hVsvDVUn180EcjVJb87FAUxGdtjFF4NnHTbp4dg3e4wCNCWf7LEiNuCdT4aauY_SUC6CWxnCwnfd_5R6nq2wc070E/s5568/39817228.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI8kQzqZvCekXMceOMNXWOwfUT7qWSrHRKlH6RoxTF4Jjt87ZFVfOfSqkZAKqLnTAPQ6Ok8PloHbkZTYIDBN2wJdja2hVsvDVUn180EcjVJb87FAUxGdtjFF4NnHTbp4dg3e4wCNCWf7LEiNuCdT4aauY_SUC6CWxnCwnfd_5R6nq2wc070E/w400-h266/39817228.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my bestie, Leia.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WF9-jRm5Apy5rn7pX9IMwL4SsYRErDlN-e5w3UC9KFfY_KC0c4SwGwfuzLYGuOagUtY4RPwwUvOJkm8sy1W4GTir4w0tk36W_fm39vXyX_49w2rb31E99PiF2BSm3q56D1L3s8MWYpeh6sP2DWlkJLU1B5iSHQ4eclcJtfk_28ZfFTpiRwM/s5568/39817296.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WF9-jRm5Apy5rn7pX9IMwL4SsYRErDlN-e5w3UC9KFfY_KC0c4SwGwfuzLYGuOagUtY4RPwwUvOJkm8sy1W4GTir4w0tk36W_fm39vXyX_49w2rb31E99PiF2BSm3q56D1L3s8MWYpeh6sP2DWlkJLU1B5iSHQ4eclcJtfk_28ZfFTpiRwM/w400-h266/39817296.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gage making Leia work to reach his hand.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAQp5XuPCcvOT_sVYW8a07rJzIJ9b6tBpACyu_04KjmhBBQy1S_D6GMd6-l5IUz5CERNZhojbqFHXAJExPcjebkGgSC46G3bM-Mpm4Tm0U2vfFZqhRPAiXZm25nm1CFELFdbYMMwmKM_DMoqAjRopS82fU4kJvgOILGXhIzUXSD-1GdnbEzA/s5568/39817244.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAQp5XuPCcvOT_sVYW8a07rJzIJ9b6tBpACyu_04KjmhBBQy1S_D6GMd6-l5IUz5CERNZhojbqFHXAJExPcjebkGgSC46G3bM-Mpm4Tm0U2vfFZqhRPAiXZm25nm1CFELFdbYMMwmKM_DMoqAjRopS82fU4kJvgOILGXhIzUXSD-1GdnbEzA/w400-h266/39817244.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hallie and Leia hands to fins.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgws_7rmZmUDp7k1Gel5yPpMicn8ie1xM0I00uzZczmMG3om4AbPHK6tDs-Ufr86RsWTmvtMO5jKRTYNrTnTTESa2u6FUmI91UFta6t_41e62aP8FApt_a7aVTH9rboM7PyX71tPyfSLnxqpu27sURgnIP6TfXKAVDlgAjTuDS4qvWnjRwsNo/s5568/39817132.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgws_7rmZmUDp7k1Gel5yPpMicn8ie1xM0I00uzZczmMG3om4AbPHK6tDs-Ufr86RsWTmvtMO5jKRTYNrTnTTESa2u6FUmI91UFta6t_41e62aP8FApt_a7aVTH9rboM7PyX71tPyfSLnxqpu27sURgnIP6TfXKAVDlgAjTuDS4qvWnjRwsNo/w400-h266/39817132.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going for a ride with Leia.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTVr9gWoX09WMdhHMuBsQIviTTJMjseTxHscJlK1SuXzG5ElBAFRl-CxaYfS7UiAxh9ogFBCt2LLnOy3pF6v-6vsuHPJ-ln3bphWmOgE9TY3GnpDOAtrWqtNZk8AXO60eFdAQd_VgFNFuu2uxGeK4Ia7XCdmS3i74WENMr-DEHk7OMYNWF6I/s5568/39817114.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTVr9gWoX09WMdhHMuBsQIviTTJMjseTxHscJlK1SuXzG5ElBAFRl-CxaYfS7UiAxh9ogFBCt2LLnOy3pF6v-6vsuHPJ-ln3bphWmOgE9TY3GnpDOAtrWqtNZk8AXO60eFdAQd_VgFNFuu2uxGeK4Ia7XCdmS3i74WENMr-DEHk7OMYNWF6I/w400-h266/39817114.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leia pushing Gage on a boogie board. Nose to foot.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9aMFMtpL_L0q6XXmCvjp3_Z7zCXX2gBWKpLuFWUtnTwst2RaNes6bRHtjVT3LipC6lw987h4q-vsJYXkVy1zFWMqAE_mf-xNfA4C-aHk-KU0sAP583U3xSN6zyb7WNXGEAb8CjHesjLKMFno1x4TArSPPHn45fx3kqiYSiOI_DcIDpKCWeLc/s4000/20230302_124948.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9aMFMtpL_L0q6XXmCvjp3_Z7zCXX2gBWKpLuFWUtnTwst2RaNes6bRHtjVT3LipC6lw987h4q-vsJYXkVy1zFWMqAE_mf-xNfA4C-aHk-KU0sAP583U3xSN6zyb7WNXGEAb8CjHesjLKMFno1x4TArSPPHn45fx3kqiYSiOI_DcIDpKCWeLc/w400-h225/20230302_124948.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Gage, and Hallie at the Dolphin Discovery.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>We made it back to the boat in plenty of time and pretty much spent the rest of the day relaxing. The kids went off and did their own thing for a while, leaving me alone to watch a free movie in the theater. I was excited to see Antman and the Wasp Quantumania on the schedule. I had been wanting to watch it and now I would get to on the big screen. By the way, I really enjoyed it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also wandered up to the adult pool area with my tablet and took some daily notes to help me remember our trip. My memory is trash and I don't trust it!</div><div><br /></div><div>That evening was Pirates themed. Of course, this meant standing in line to get a picture with Jack Sparrow. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbQWuDOFdxe8EYhWsalPYyhWk67BHia9fRsUDvRZh7oseoo7Wd9Isc7BAMFzIQ_-QPeAyNuS2DSZhcbSORvsB2YaJaqqDtak5pLs1oyfXnNUHxZFSvRE6JtdZPHmpI15rOTO_s8oUIx-4rbFdJKqaANvjhqj8SkREM_AnNLsSqEvkX-56ye4/s2784/2023-03-02%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1856" data-original-width="2784" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbQWuDOFdxe8EYhWsalPYyhWk67BHia9fRsUDvRZh7oseoo7Wd9Isc7BAMFzIQ_-QPeAyNuS2DSZhcbSORvsB2YaJaqqDtak5pLs1oyfXnNUHxZFSvRE6JtdZPHmpI15rOTO_s8oUIx-4rbFdJKqaANvjhqj8SkREM_AnNLsSqEvkX-56ye4/w400-h266/2023-03-02%20-%20Disney%20Dream%20-%20Disney%20Cruise%20Line_2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictures with the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>The evening entertainment also featured pirates. Only instead of it being a live Pirates of the Caribbean show featuring Jack, it was Captain Mickey vs. Captain Hook. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSA4CQezMwDoW4BIGDXJcAfPGMpUPrkBri6o4OC-bYJo01qTrifUo8nFRXgoVFQx1o8GxL4H0eqVZHsIAavmWMJEZ43kZLVwrRpwi7bz8VMY5Pf-a95vZUfYZsBPcz_Zc-OsTAVve-FHtHKRFdVDd-WKsXAMpeitPdi7oN6BXm9tSyHakPkc/s1483/1680185328036_3fwl8b_2_1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1483" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSA4CQezMwDoW4BIGDXJcAfPGMpUPrkBri6o4OC-bYJo01qTrifUo8nFRXgoVFQx1o8GxL4H0eqVZHsIAavmWMJEZ43kZLVwrRpwi7bz8VMY5Pf-a95vZUfYZsBPcz_Zc-OsTAVve-FHtHKRFdVDd-WKsXAMpeitPdi7oN6BXm9tSyHakPkc/w400-h249/1680185328036_3fwl8b_2_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain Mickey and his crew.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Our last full day on the ship was almost plan-free. The only reservation I had made for us was the Skylight Lounge where we had a mixology class. Five mixed drinks in forty-five minutes. The mojito was our favorite. We even tried recreating it at home but we've yet to come close to the deliciousness we had in that room. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVY_xeYAexxOmbq-8U7eNfx74BcyVLQfQJRcwhSV1S2n-PcSLxYEUQX-yAFzB3-s4gk9nusTnSZ4wHokPb2o73jWMNjJiiJm8Y9T9Wp_AnKIHGjA7K6RbCwiPxbqRHdv05mjgabVeal4-6dfqCe7lcrA15cxeH7IXXUyigpwG86IsdJu9_L8g/s3200/20230303_140031.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1802" data-original-width="3200" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVY_xeYAexxOmbq-8U7eNfx74BcyVLQfQJRcwhSV1S2n-PcSLxYEUQX-yAFzB3-s4gk9nusTnSZ4wHokPb2o73jWMNjJiiJm8Y9T9Wp_AnKIHGjA7K6RbCwiPxbqRHdv05mjgabVeal4-6dfqCe7lcrA15cxeH7IXXUyigpwG86IsdJu9_L8g/w400-h225/20230303_140031.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying our mixology class in the Skylight Lounge.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>As this was our last night, it was also our last dinner. We had come full circle and were once again in the Royal Palace. Because we were quite fond of our server, we asked him if we could get a picture with him. He was kind enough to say yes. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjZHS1jQUBfMzyhBnflBgCintELJorRrY3qe1DklZ4PD4Tj_hJv0RcQhpWN02MML3pQz3BMoOrt2AeQL3XCAQaSSkGasJobN11f2MvKYjomBV77cxZX-8miRJmSr5qoeWiE6WZZs71OSdAfKWxnqaWqXC9kFW0VApXf4i3meT6anQlR9NNN4/s4000/20230303_210202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjZHS1jQUBfMzyhBnflBgCintELJorRrY3qe1DklZ4PD4Tj_hJv0RcQhpWN02MML3pQz3BMoOrt2AeQL3XCAQaSSkGasJobN11f2MvKYjomBV77cxZX-8miRJmSr5qoeWiE6WZZs71OSdAfKWxnqaWqXC9kFW0VApXf4i3meT6anQlR9NNN4/w400-h225/20230303_210202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us posing with Suartana. He was amazing! Disney should give him a raise.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>I had prepaid all tips but he was such an amazing server I felt he deserved a lot more, so I gave more. I still don't think it was enough but it's what cash I had left on me after two ports of call. Seriously, he was the best server and made our dinners about more than just the amazing food the chefs were preparing. </div><div><br /></div><div>That night Gage and I watched Avatar the Way of Water in the theater. It was our last bit of entertainment on the ship because the next morning we were back in Miami and on our way to the hotel I had booked for the night. A hotel room we didn't really need because we were through Customs before noon. We could have easily caught a flight home later that afternoon. Live and learn, I guess. </div><div><br /></div><div>I must say this was a great vacation and I really enjoyed spending the week with my boy and his girl. Vacationing on the Disney Dream was magical. I'd definitely go again and I know the kids feel the same way. They're even talking about changing up their honeymoon plans and cruising with Disney instead. <br /><br /><br /></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-51012695451748094572023-01-09T13:00:00.003-05:002023-01-09T13:00:15.699-05:00Christmas 2022 - So Far<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMy-uhKwpf3CJqgvPB4zxohPAihCXYtCWrujAoH4HqfCBfbASvFndnSQ4ACmib3Li3FDhYtxwJTgodsuqIQSSjgETm_5WybWw1Yghu9622COM_g1nWzKyd4F67ebWwWxD43yQVwOWk8i_r6D5lHCqqLxT7NGr11lujRmMrtF8bwBZpcK1E2M/s2550/Christmas2022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="2550" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMy-uhKwpf3CJqgvPB4zxohPAihCXYtCWrujAoH4HqfCBfbASvFndnSQ4ACmib3Li3FDhYtxwJTgodsuqIQSSjgETm_5WybWw1Yghu9622COM_g1nWzKyd4F67ebWwWxD43yQVwOWk8i_r6D5lHCqqLxT7NGr11lujRmMrtF8bwBZpcK1E2M/w640-h426/Christmas2022.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>It's January 9th as I write this but we still have two more Christmases to go. We had to reschedule the big party with my Dad twice due to illnesses. That get-together has been rescheduled to this Friday. Fingers crossed everyone is healthy and able to attend! </p><p>My mom lives two and a half hours north and a snowstorm hit the weekend we were supposed to drive up there. Luckily, she is supposed to be down this way for work this week and we're going to meet up for a hug, kiss, and a small gift exchange. <br /><br />What were we able to do during the season itself? Well, the boys and I went to Bronners and got ornaments that we felt represented our relationships with Ken. I decorated the house. We made it to my extended family's Christmas party at my cousin's house. We watched our favorite holiday movies and a few new ones, too. I made holiday candies with friends. I made traditional Christmas cookies and am still confused on why they didn't taste quite right. We celebrated Christmas morning with gifts and had our traditional Chicago pizza for dinner. I went to Christmas game night at my sister-in-law's house. All of us went to Christmas with Ken's mom and dad on New Years Day. </p><p>It was a busy, busy Christmas season but I feel very blessed to have so many people I am able to celebrate it with every year. </p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-52618302105023334462022-12-10T08:12:00.138-05:002022-12-10T08:12:00.177-05:00My Little Temper Tantrum Thrower<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKSnjIMs1AqNydMNOgF880G3j2EoYR2jqtSuzjFlt8CHR1vN8uM3zQUF_P_TvCG1vIsNiOIb9D9dTw_jO_ccbWPR9iyU-4Pw4Rwpu8TjhRMA5o2yB7S5hETfS0ofmch0jdgYUBqY1oCp5o82USmPs_VLCM0g2YB61sOPs2qj7-7GyKV474dY/s1600/5018715822_556999a6c0_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKSnjIMs1AqNydMNOgF880G3j2EoYR2jqtSuzjFlt8CHR1vN8uM3zQUF_P_TvCG1vIsNiOIb9D9dTw_jO_ccbWPR9iyU-4Pw4Rwpu8TjhRMA5o2yB7S5hETfS0ofmch0jdgYUBqY1oCp5o82USmPs_VLCM0g2YB61sOPs2qj7-7GyKV474dY/w200-h133/5018715822_556999a6c0_h.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>No two kids are alike and Gage taught us that pretty much from the first day he arrived in our lives. I like to tease him and tell him he was my difficult baby, my little temper tantrum thrower. I can say this with a smile now because at 22 years old, he's much more in control of himself and his emotions. Most of the time. As a baby, though, he was very different from his happy-go-lucky big brother. I have plenty of pictures of him with his ornery little scowls and tearful outbursts. <p></p><p>He's a bit stubborn. I jokingly say this started in the womb because when his due date came, he refused to go down the birth canal and required a C-section to deliver him into our arms. Well, his dad's arms. I was too busy having some kind of allergic reaction to the meds in my IV to snuggle him right away. While Ken rocked him in what should have been my labor and delivery room, I was in a recovery room thinking my skin was on fire. Good times. </p><p>His need to distinguish himself from his brother continued. Not only would he refuse to be born in the same fashion, he also decided my breast milk was not for him. His sensitive little belly rejected everything but the most expensive formula on the shelves. This meant he cried a lot out of hunger and frustration. We thought once we got him on the right formula the tears would lessen. We were wrong.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFG0Wm7MpTTS21pHK0cybnpnw8e4ZWmcSv9FPknBBYLVTGXACJqUkzjejQH5JS1A5SpW-7tr0pWx2AnwElxTJ1hdC_d2cmgmQpvR2JvEqgryVc64eCLNvu4Uf6SYg37ORkwNv1fDSZRqBapoOU56upCaZGp1Usvw7vC8o3QTXVSnB3qZIYGU/s1800/5008821953_5524a099bf_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1800" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFG0Wm7MpTTS21pHK0cybnpnw8e4ZWmcSv9FPknBBYLVTGXACJqUkzjejQH5JS1A5SpW-7tr0pWx2AnwElxTJ1hdC_d2cmgmQpvR2JvEqgryVc64eCLNvu4Uf6SYg37ORkwNv1fDSZRqBapoOU56upCaZGp1Usvw7vC8o3QTXVSnB3qZIYGU/s320/5008821953_5524a099bf_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfa8f2kP1uDL-R7UmK-SakB0TPKARp6KnZBsAGzMnzZnK1c6CiA5EDTDD4EbeSc1Uul4btITS58ZdbovNG_BW7m7xOLWRpc8JDjtXTMISCc-VKnm9WXUvRpTxVMtxzrIvRFMGpBdeR-xejgeobbBskOWKpWC12_8WSK3Oc2DAAuglORvZlYGI/s1600/5009546024_cfb70d20e7_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfa8f2kP1uDL-R7UmK-SakB0TPKARp6KnZBsAGzMnzZnK1c6CiA5EDTDD4EbeSc1Uul4btITS58ZdbovNG_BW7m7xOLWRpc8JDjtXTMISCc-VKnm9WXUvRpTxVMtxzrIvRFMGpBdeR-xejgeobbBskOWKpWC12_8WSK3Oc2DAAuglORvZlYGI/s320/5009546024_cfb70d20e7_h.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Gage is my emotional child. Not weepy, mind you. More the quick-to-anger type with a heavy dose of determination on the side. Want to see a bit of temper firsthand? Tell him he did something wrong. Messed up a math problem? Stomp, stomp, stomp upstairs. Missed a tackle, failed to catch a ball, or didn't connect with his receiver? More effort and less mercy with an angry little scowl on his face. </p><p>But he's not all anger and temper tantrums. Not by a long shot. He can be funny, cheerful, and silly, too. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEx0WEVImsZeNDoPRr1EGEzQvyPeQ38cJlWTCTfSbqxxuCKG52-d9yb6AP45Jn2wkYDkWFMBhfZyGYNae8QQ-6roZcb2uUIt9Sw7ZcwUMKB1svxKEPFTnMZTgHdtgNJpMe17FQWKJHDB4KeYZSa9r9guhAVMO8bCEToaqOjBiE52D0x-c_dM/s1600/TAH_20090729_7146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEx0WEVImsZeNDoPRr1EGEzQvyPeQ38cJlWTCTfSbqxxuCKG52-d9yb6AP45Jn2wkYDkWFMBhfZyGYNae8QQ-6roZcb2uUIt9Sw7ZcwUMKB1svxKEPFTnMZTgHdtgNJpMe17FQWKJHDB4KeYZSa9r9guhAVMO8bCEToaqOjBiE52D0x-c_dM/s320/TAH_20090729_7146.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEhbRCcFaLPw_g-VQDrmIP3AzIauH1hVTgoCBetcDJuFe-1ztUCUJFFaZZXzVhgP24ZdzNKk4oip0ds4YVxmPatGeKEPmL26T2evcOfCWCWHX-GZB7xrP5nNmcUClaLoTbaJ-_1XFXpOrA7U5tf_uh1-8ltuj7Szo2KMed2Ky5D-ccL_Hj_Y/s4000/20220420_183543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="4000" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEhbRCcFaLPw_g-VQDrmIP3AzIauH1hVTgoCBetcDJuFe-1ztUCUJFFaZZXzVhgP24ZdzNKk4oip0ds4YVxmPatGeKEPmL26T2evcOfCWCWHX-GZB7xrP5nNmcUClaLoTbaJ-_1XFXpOrA7U5tf_uh1-8ltuj7Szo2KMed2Ky5D-ccL_Hj_Y/s320/20220420_183543.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Gage is also my helper child. Not that KC wouldn't help, but he usually had to be asked and might try "going to the bathroom" for a good half hour first in hopes someone else would do the job for him. Gage, meanwhile, was Ken's constant shadow. He often helped his dad do things around the yard or in the barn. He didn't have to be asked because he was there, right at Ken's side, doing the things his dad was doing. <br /><br />In all honesty, now that both boys are grown, the differences in their temperaments have evened out a lot. Gage isn't nearly as quick to throw a tantrum as he once was and KC isn't always happy-go-lucky. They've both matured into men with a wide range of emotions they aren't afraid to share, whether those feeling are sunny or sour!</div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-87084422653977694602022-12-09T15:10:00.001-05:002022-12-09T15:10:18.980-05:00My Vegas Baby<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmirUySdExxBkQzTi26y7ZCfk1Trkx-dtDzCyqw7tfllOF03c-sC9nCmoHhgqhEG9ubOTfG2ojVu_gzfnvGaxOPZ93_Lw3pqV2dQ2goNnQpaNVNWdUI4F66ZHqutz-mWK4a0V_Ri1LyXMX4cCVTLkcHbGfeilLbtJg-5PrzG-zD07zzrhgWA/s3000/39881588071_a20f232ab7_o.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmirUySdExxBkQzTi26y7ZCfk1Trkx-dtDzCyqw7tfllOF03c-sC9nCmoHhgqhEG9ubOTfG2ojVu_gzfnvGaxOPZ93_Lw3pqV2dQ2goNnQpaNVNWdUI4F66ZHqutz-mWK4a0V_Ri1LyXMX4cCVTLkcHbGfeilLbtJg-5PrzG-zD07zzrhgWA/w133-h200/39881588071_a20f232ab7_o.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>Ken and I went to Las Vegas for vacation and brought home the best souvenir imaginable. Sure, we had to wait several months to meet him, but the wait was worth every stretch mark. <br /><p></p><p>While we waited, we debated names. For a girl, we had Cheyanne Elizabeth picked out. For a boy, well, I didn't have much of a choice. None at all, in fact. Ken was adamant that if the baby bump turned out to be a son he would have to be named after him, his dad, and his favorite uncle. I was not thrilled. We had so many Kens in our lives already and adding another one to the batch would just multiply the confusion. After some negotiating, we agreed to continue on the first name tradition but instead of calling the baby Ken or Kenny, he would go by his initials: K.C. And that's exactly what happened. When I delivered a 6 lb, 15 oz, baby boy that February night, we welcomed our little K.C. into our lives and hearts. </p><p>Almost twenty-five years later, his friends and family still know him as K.C. Even his teachers and classmates know him as K.C. His fiance calls him K.C. Everyone does with one exception. Apparently, when you join the grown-up workforce, the nickname you've had since birth is overthrown for your legal name. This mom would like to throw a flag on the play! (A football reference...aren't you impressed?)</p><p>K.C. was an easy baby. A happy baby. He was sweet and silly right up until he hit those tween years. Life isn't always easy or fair and, eventually, the outgoing little boy became a more serious, introverted teenager. But maybe that would have happened regardless of life's cruelties. Those teen years are rough no matter how blessed your home life may be. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKZh06D5wIPX6cuK1weZIH80gPnzxMAchar4fZ30n0Y8jvrCSGPgvHYCfP4fMAydBlHGvHcmJlF6HzFCFMKk5dBYDsXWufF8NOqvzqDZHrVTR8NGw43xiW2HwUwRW9WrzuGM2MxxfDZbeM4O8CWZQh6c0u4_okNNgjRolIAmyUw0VoB2bhPI/s1600/6855711848_4218c6d821_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1037" data-original-width="1600" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKZh06D5wIPX6cuK1weZIH80gPnzxMAchar4fZ30n0Y8jvrCSGPgvHYCfP4fMAydBlHGvHcmJlF6HzFCFMKk5dBYDsXWufF8NOqvzqDZHrVTR8NGw43xiW2HwUwRW9WrzuGM2MxxfDZbeM4O8CWZQh6c0u4_okNNgjRolIAmyUw0VoB2bhPI/s320/6855711848_4218c6d821_h.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IwLmrdDAYhDjbIGHGv0DY-zDM1FYQuItW6gHzy8jyf9A6eAUg6ScsiFMTyJzIc1UJkgP5O1cvwLi9WEmFD990cKWVOkf67ZrBWp8nY78K7itI3sFOe9gsAZQly9Wq9VNksbODRGpM-rbblGGaPc_neZhCWPiUrNyowL6NAaCNUyaug-T9wc/s1600/5021290934_367938dd77_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IwLmrdDAYhDjbIGHGv0DY-zDM1FYQuItW6gHzy8jyf9A6eAUg6ScsiFMTyJzIc1UJkgP5O1cvwLi9WEmFD990cKWVOkf67ZrBWp8nY78K7itI3sFOe9gsAZQly9Wq9VNksbODRGpM-rbblGGaPc_neZhCWPiUrNyowL6NAaCNUyaug-T9wc/s320/5021290934_367938dd77_h.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Those tough teen years passed and KC's now in his mid-twenties. <i>(I can't believe I just typed that sentence! How is he already approaching his 25th birthday?!?)</i></p><p>I'm so grateful K.C.'s silliness didn't really leave him. Those teen years just buried it for a while. As he left behind his childhood and started a life on his own, I've seen more and more of his old self reemerging. He's full of shenanigans and can talk a million miles an hour. Mostly about video games and cars. I can usually follow the video game chatter but that car talk...boy, do I struggle!</p><p>He is also surprisingly knowledgeable about a bunch of random things that always catch me by surprise. I guess I figure he's so busy with chasing after his toddler, cooking dinners, playing video games, and researching cars that I can't imagine he has time to do a deep dive into the secret lives of sharks or cheetahs or whatever else happened to catch his attention most recently. </p><p>Oh, yes, this little Vegas baby of mine has a baby of his own now. I guess it's fitting my first baby gave me my first grandbaby, who I am positive is the cutest, smartest, and busiest little boy in the history of little boys! <i>(Yes, I am unapologetically biased. Show me a grammy who's not!)</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtbPY1NNFmNv9DUR0GPU7Ea78_fD_MpeDpwNLAPzT_tr8Ipqzsmr-8zS7qSPt5MPHGOHGfbXLa1_-7y-nIpu_rsgtvjmp-RzsQWOr2wAR9WPhbqHbNAl2i0N0ZFToN-lks4jmDTwCl-0lTJSxVhgc-2T5SvgdhVeVz9v5aoGOtqXBWbVDYnA/s4000/20220905_135609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtbPY1NNFmNv9DUR0GPU7Ea78_fD_MpeDpwNLAPzT_tr8Ipqzsmr-8zS7qSPt5MPHGOHGfbXLa1_-7y-nIpu_rsgtvjmp-RzsQWOr2wAR9WPhbqHbNAl2i0N0ZFToN-lks4jmDTwCl-0lTJSxVhgc-2T5SvgdhVeVz9v5aoGOtqXBWbVDYnA/s320/20220905_135609.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>He's also on the verge of getting married. He and his fiance, Allie, have a wedding planned for June 2024. These are not their engagement photos but I think they perfectly sum up the silliness they bring out in each other. I mean who doesn't love an intentionally awkward photoshoot!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_qSjgZkrfcU9EcJPtPAJsu2UM5hYsiZTfHs2vHI8kofyIMv8LVc8ERKNWdT6xhtrHESVPn6rFo-QuJ4wAseHD2DmzTdpAvonIxurisBSrc4PrreCZJEgK1PynEWUG6A10A1njxq6AB-Tc8sVwrbhdaq2hAhLiyTYBGYwznJqrwKLCVkpVm0/s2048/DSC_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_qSjgZkrfcU9EcJPtPAJsu2UM5hYsiZTfHs2vHI8kofyIMv8LVc8ERKNWdT6xhtrHESVPn6rFo-QuJ4wAseHD2DmzTdpAvonIxurisBSrc4PrreCZJEgK1PynEWUG6A10A1njxq6AB-Tc8sVwrbhdaq2hAhLiyTYBGYwznJqrwKLCVkpVm0/s320/DSC_0007.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqd90NxyIE_qqXj7QOgbcHOHlj0chibUW8yBZ7ynbtlgOWKD3c6-ws1riQP4RDD0I5zIHBZOqHVrCfCvGDWwKKaupLDHzZaP02w9bsLcFiScv95VQRiaKFN3NuO572K-ZDV6MdsH_eUBqD9hA-gpumXhAQxFBOkfiv3S4oEAVjVw5wvfubRkU/s2048/DSC_0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqd90NxyIE_qqXj7QOgbcHOHlj0chibUW8yBZ7ynbtlgOWKD3c6-ws1riQP4RDD0I5zIHBZOqHVrCfCvGDWwKKaupLDHzZaP02w9bsLcFiScv95VQRiaKFN3NuO572K-ZDV6MdsH_eUBqD9hA-gpumXhAQxFBOkfiv3S4oEAVjVw5wvfubRkU/s320/DSC_0049.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pBExFHqpIxwGTQ3YCgqnpKtkNemoxlyXpn8GpUp1z_DNLEz2hJKGnDArLGrp8PXjtkyuKa4yFWLRKO0vtx8Z65rbqnZpzHo73WdlMsKiuOpgg6KAxAjvRvBdW71tFnUDKp982i75xc5dPPI_9O0F-prwtThHwT4Ewa5uEXs94J0XCh0OjBU/s2048/DSC_1001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pBExFHqpIxwGTQ3YCgqnpKtkNemoxlyXpn8GpUp1z_DNLEz2hJKGnDArLGrp8PXjtkyuKa4yFWLRKO0vtx8Z65rbqnZpzHo73WdlMsKiuOpgg6KAxAjvRvBdW71tFnUDKp982i75xc5dPPI_9O0F-prwtThHwT4Ewa5uEXs94J0XCh0OjBU/s320/DSC_1001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-87783612593733667292022-11-17T13:49:00.006-05:002022-11-22T09:46:18.408-05:00Taken By SurpriseMy girlfriends want to plan a weekend getaway at a Scrapbooking retreat. Before the pandemic, we usually did this twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall. The last time we went, it was early March of 2020 and the lockdown came a week or two later. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8C1MWlnLTbP1i2A_mGg2eEH5_iDj2m_SA9Vt-joxlORR87-iRQZ0W820pMnBmfyQKLzywD2ZA_D0_y_nmLzLvYXqKyL9hJd9YfHT7A2n8GCMQnHLVv1USEPDT5nqYjt7Me6RCzAMRR0bFjRQmE_bdS0WZu_q-mz4r2QLoSTABWAev74J9d7g/s3378/IMG_20200314_212359.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="3378" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8C1MWlnLTbP1i2A_mGg2eEH5_iDj2m_SA9Vt-joxlORR87-iRQZ0W820pMnBmfyQKLzywD2ZA_D0_y_nmLzLvYXqKyL9hJd9YfHT7A2n8GCMQnHLVv1USEPDT5nqYjt7Me6RCzAMRR0bFjRQmE_bdS0WZu_q-mz4r2QLoSTABWAev74J9d7g/w400-h266/IMG_20200314_212359.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Scrapbooking Group from 2020</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>If you've never been scrapbooking, it's pretty impressive how much STUFF each of us brings to the event. Carpooling isn't possible because our supplies take up all available space in our individual vehicles. Seriously. It's a little obscene. Paper. Stickers. Albums. Ribbons. Stamps. Glue. Silhouette or CriCut machines. Pens. Laptops. Printers. </div><div><div><br /></div><div>Yeah, it's a lot. </div><div><br /></div><div>My favorite scrapbooking haul might have been the year I opted to work on editing senior photos instead of scrapbooking. That year, I only had to pack up my laptop. It was glorious being able to walk into the building with only one little bag slung over my shoulder. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure what tactic I will take in April 2023. Is it cheating if I decide to work on a computer-based project? Or should I return to my scrapbooking roots and lug everything out to the car, into the weekend rental, and then back into my house? The hard part about traditional scrapbooking is not just the bulk but the emotional weight of sorting through pictures and revisiting more pleasant times. </div><div><br /></div><div>Already, I've taken one emotional hit just by looking at my April 2023 calendar. Ken's birthday is in April but that's not it. I know when his birthday falls and I'm mentally and emotionally prepared to see that on the calendar. What I wasn't prepared for was an event reminder celebrating what should have been Ken's retirement from the university. An event he had created who knows how long ago..</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuIJtcywKxt0GLslTtYAXi-iJYyZLEs4UCZPv8cYKKUST7eDHUGTevz7eKURaJgmbl3iTlM6vpMrtGuhmRrJcoB0RW73vjdbWMb2imxdw5nhUyhCqBGhmQb6FypCz0DgIalsAao1OHuDjfLTXy_IkxcyvteP9ndRSNfAiH9Krw4TANkODCsc/s2400/Screenshot_20221116-214548_Calendar.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuIJtcywKxt0GLslTtYAXi-iJYyZLEs4UCZPv8cYKKUST7eDHUGTevz7eKURaJgmbl3iTlM6vpMrtGuhmRrJcoB0RW73vjdbWMb2imxdw5nhUyhCqBGhmQb6FypCz0DgIalsAao1OHuDjfLTXy_IkxcyvteP9ndRSNfAiH9Krw4TANkODCsc/w288-h640/Screenshot_20221116-214548_Calendar.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I saw that on my calendar and I cried. He was so close to being able to retire. We were so close to retiring together and traveling in our RV like we had dreamed about for years. It's really not fair that he never got the chance to live this particular dream. It's not fair that I won't get to live that dream with him by my side. </div><div><br /></div><div>Do I actually think he would have retired from the university next April? Probably not. For a couple of reasons. While he might have met all of the requirements set forth by the university, we still have a kid in college and tuition is not cheap. Also, Ken was not the type who could sit still and do nothing. I always thought he'd find retirement a difficult transition, especially if I was still working. Then there's the fact that letting go of his role in ITS was hard when he so very sick, so letting go when healthy would have been even more difficult in my opinion.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still, seeing how close he was if he had wanted to...that was heartbreaking. </div></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-7538139877131209722022-10-31T21:11:00.002-04:002022-10-31T21:11:23.207-04:00Halloween 2022<p>I love the holidays. While Christmas is my absolute favorite, Halloween runs a close second. This year I celebrated it in a number of ways. </p><p>First, there was Halloween trick-or-treating at Krystal Lake Campground. Our little group had four campsites between us; unfortunately, they weren't all in a row and we had to cross a tiny field to visit with each other. We decided to leave two of the four sites undecorated and instead pooled our skeletons, spiderwebs, and lights together. When it came time for the kids to trick-or-treat, we passed out candy two by two at nearby tables.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyxKZJH69DMFJ5vKjFCBvkpB4htHHf3fE6y4-rwlrZLMdcmPEMv2wTtBOZd9HC4qaIOwd49ltFO5s8Dh0yj07teP8kdk-61U3x7i5phrUI-IkSwYOrySYigHLc1e_KDV3eyjj4rtCPa1COQ0jQ5nBa2M_yf7azW0KWdJLrQJffKUYyS1zD9s/s4000/20221008_141812.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyxKZJH69DMFJ5vKjFCBvkpB4htHHf3fE6y4-rwlrZLMdcmPEMv2wTtBOZd9HC4qaIOwd49ltFO5s8Dh0yj07teP8kdk-61U3x7i5phrUI-IkSwYOrySYigHLc1e_KDV3eyjj4rtCPa1COQ0jQ5nBa2M_yf7azW0KWdJLrQJffKUYyS1zD9s/w400-h225/20221008_141812.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I dressed up as an old witch while Laura was an angel with<br />her sidekick demon hubby sitting nearby. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_pTSkr01EMSHiE9RHxsThpdaXb84aNvzN2NpWFSuWGgfB0zGpIO0Hm1bXSlvUkWDavgxRvhtr0AEHa4MzF6S7UPTJ9KMTUrwyNZfMgqdC5hjHzl-ysYcOQdnKHICJXr9ygP9Qanob_Yra-F8Qj7qv9nLW_Dk2MEXzaN0JqGeGg_jKBzyc4s/s1008/310345121_8893498240667662_6816161928063428082_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_pTSkr01EMSHiE9RHxsThpdaXb84aNvzN2NpWFSuWGgfB0zGpIO0Hm1bXSlvUkWDavgxRvhtr0AEHa4MzF6S7UPTJ9KMTUrwyNZfMgqdC5hjHzl-ysYcOQdnKHICJXr9ygP9Qanob_Yra-F8Qj7qv9nLW_Dk2MEXzaN0JqGeGg_jKBzyc4s/s320/310345121_8893498240667662_6816161928063428082_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was someone's first Halloween camping trip.<br />Also, you can see some of our decorations!<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Next on the Halloween calendar came Jimmy and Laura's annual party. They started throwing this little get-together after Jimmy's mom passed away from pancreatic cancer. Her picture used to be on a table by itself. Now she's kept company by Ken. His picture sits next to hers with a bottle of Crown and some shot glasses. Before the night ends, most of us have done at least one shot in honor of their memories.<div><br /></div><div>This year I dressed up as a modern-day Medusa. I wanted a warm, comfortable costume. I found some snakeskin leggings and a matching sports bra. I added a black sweater and boots. The costume was completed with a snake crown and a few colorful little snakes hidden throughout my hair. I don't think you can see them all that well in the pictures, but they are there. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWamoeuF31x70Ix9OYijpVniSJvvZjTav1oDbjdEJK5v1EbFrSQcaQL4RRzcZJVIUuf8hjudthG4OHqmVrzK7Kp_SeXueQOrgBDfeciBywTtcfH2OmQV5mA8NDdwG2ffHoNAXV-ETZrCR_UdiuDmO44xFSJXTQ09ugRzW5NYqVDlshj9dyfCc/s3216/20221015_180659.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3216" data-original-width="1448" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWamoeuF31x70Ix9OYijpVniSJvvZjTav1oDbjdEJK5v1EbFrSQcaQL4RRzcZJVIUuf8hjudthG4OHqmVrzK7Kp_SeXueQOrgBDfeciBywTtcfH2OmQV5mA8NDdwG2ffHoNAXV-ETZrCR_UdiuDmO44xFSJXTQ09ugRzW5NYqVDlshj9dyfCc/w180-h400/20221015_180659.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSGGdUrCS4W352mXB20c9TPIWWF7OyC3sYrD_7EtiYzCv0-o1ljn0Ljk0ET5ioeD7_LzTVWzgfdooFQnkiMRQKs00gaN5oUbB7MQSQ_VpnPVa6AGjLY8tgKbKMYWe1SQo_3V8ZCByEoSxe1jGeUK2gqsv1EsYGLe1pcdVAte0vgEPktuyn28/s4000/20221015_175303(0).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSGGdUrCS4W352mXB20c9TPIWWF7OyC3sYrD_7EtiYzCv0-o1ljn0Ljk0ET5ioeD7_LzTVWzgfdooFQnkiMRQKs00gaN5oUbB7MQSQ_VpnPVa6AGjLY8tgKbKMYWe1SQo_3V8ZCByEoSxe1jGeUK2gqsv1EsYGLe1pcdVAte0vgEPktuyn28/w225-h400/20221015_175303(0).jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div>I wasn't overly fond of the crown so it went into the garbage after the party. It didn't want to stay on my head. It also didn't fan out enough for my tastes. A better Medusa crown exists.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Halloween party was well attended this year. The only ones missing were my oldest boy and his family. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuDcgfU0PgLkh8VSBLqppw3i0F6T4lZDMLzLDiqN7krUYo7OeF1SoGiAp7bimkohujApWytXh0Gsy-mUxAsm5sDqNC9zGSXV_FNS5HpBOn6VIIwMbsH_ogylx3ekJhPgB_d5PYWLSTOJRHjW52oK1-CdV_CGFSwYLM_7EfruGRVYX2N23sa4/s1789/received_649718793482173.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="1789" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuDcgfU0PgLkh8VSBLqppw3i0F6T4lZDMLzLDiqN7krUYo7OeF1SoGiAp7bimkohujApWytXh0Gsy-mUxAsm5sDqNC9zGSXV_FNS5HpBOn6VIIwMbsH_ogylx3ekJhPgB_d5PYWLSTOJRHjW52oK1-CdV_CGFSwYLM_7EfruGRVYX2N23sa4/w640-h222/received_649718793482173.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, there was the grand finale of Halloween. My grandson on Halloween night! He may or may not have gotten way too much candy from me. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSBUBoBqjBPsCuXFUpMOBfH3JI7H_hEPtb0TDLAwOF-2zAveIacsvqewabb4XawbwbSGyU68TlipKDYWNFd_nPFwB4GIXdkplwpj_7ieeB9wB2lDkwvrkXMZif-GhkeZ9-SSj1g/s1600/1667264737783840-0.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little lion.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This was the first Halloween he got excited about candy. The costume not so much. He kept yanking the hood off and trying to wriggle out of the costume. Luckily, once we were hitting the sidewalks with his cousins, he seemed to be less concerned about the costume and much more interested in trick-or-treating. <br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2ZKS6fiAmOKhvbaeGHjLVge2P-3pANYlqHAkJCxn0mRRS9gEI3GmBey8GgB_adSZVP98GdJQpzXj93pLHGvTZk2uy5i8Lt-yNmvwtYqO5nvBmO8hLA1W3EK7xY2q7OI3qxctHwqJbEeE-3SKOTtD4TpwcKESI6sLhkFApNq0O1jbYRcb2AE/s4000/20221031_182327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2ZKS6fiAmOKhvbaeGHjLVge2P-3pANYlqHAkJCxn0mRRS9gEI3GmBey8GgB_adSZVP98GdJQpzXj93pLHGvTZk2uy5i8Lt-yNmvwtYqO5nvBmO8hLA1W3EK7xY2q7OI3qxctHwqJbEeE-3SKOTtD4TpwcKESI6sLhkFApNq0O1jbYRcb2AE/w360-h640/20221031_182327.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLgoX3NxzDuMfWcdI9jygw23TVpdK89A6_g5GxP-6lkKeiuxJ8bJ8uBwpBOKEVPiUukEdVgnelHLgzGagxOJtk65Sl-3qpSwsbFhDi37TKoVWQ5lk6nYaMZCW3y2ikOwoznOJAaF9mFYFBtVGrIwL9TIVDfSKrp2M_s6w7fz0kC488IwV3f0/s4000/20221031_182447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLgoX3NxzDuMfWcdI9jygw23TVpdK89A6_g5GxP-6lkKeiuxJ8bJ8uBwpBOKEVPiUukEdVgnelHLgzGagxOJtk65Sl-3qpSwsbFhDi37TKoVWQ5lk6nYaMZCW3y2ikOwoznOJAaF9mFYFBtVGrIwL9TIVDfSKrp2M_s6w7fz0kC488IwV3f0/w360-h640/20221031_182447.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Most memorable moments: Our little lion bravely entering two homes before we could stop him. Oops! LOL</div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-72148684558043297782022-10-19T11:17:00.003-04:002022-10-20T08:43:24.379-04:00If the Universe Could Just Stop..That'd be Great.<p> The phone call every parent with a child behind the wheel fears came yesterday morning. I was in the shower getting ready to go to work when my phone rang with KC's distinct ringtone. It's that really annoying one that yells "Your son is calling. Pick up the phone now." Given that it wasn't even 7 am yet, my heart dropped and I got out of the shower without even finishing up. I answered and there was only silence from his end. I hung up and tried calling him back. While my call was in progress, his fiance, Allie, called me. I hung up the call I was making and answered her call. I don't remember the exact order of the words but they terrified me.</p><p>KC was in a bad accident.</p><p>The car is totaled.</p><p>While she was talking to me, he called back. I couldn't answer quickly enough. Hearing his voice was so very necessary at that moment. If he's talking to me, he's alive. He might be hurt but he's alive. </p><p>He told me his face and hand hurt. He was so upset about his car, but I just needed to know he was okay. When he told me he had blacked out after impact, I told him he needed to go the hospital to get checked out instead of just having Allie pick him up like he wanted. He didn't argue too much and ended up in the back of the ambulance.</p><p>I woke up Gage and told him what had happened. We left the house within a few short minutes and started off toward the hospital where the ambulance would be dropping him off for tests and treatment. He ended up having a concussion, a broken pinky finger, and some bumps and bruises here and there. The Camaro had done its job and protected him during the accident. </p><p>But it is totaled. We have no doubt. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAkUitLvRnGATTI9FG1uJEcK_c-I4L6IwKvxUG2LBKGumlmJ9KtNiS4nO3tw7zfLev1k25QBrcK1YN0cbgEBFo9Q2pV2wxa4IE3eN4jG6kljDV7obQotIXjgUMbhdZts759DVwrFOUrvPL8796v2SbWDZ9ehitbhStCQNfXvGZqBfoPProYg/s4000/20221018_150705.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAkUitLvRnGATTI9FG1uJEcK_c-I4L6IwKvxUG2LBKGumlmJ9KtNiS4nO3tw7zfLev1k25QBrcK1YN0cbgEBFo9Q2pV2wxa4IE3eN4jG6kljDV7obQotIXjgUMbhdZts759DVwrFOUrvPL8796v2SbWDZ9ehitbhStCQNfXvGZqBfoPProYg/s320/20221018_150705.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>When we got to the hospital, he told us what he could remember. He had been on his way to work, turning at a corner he had turned at many times before, and then he was waking up behind a deployed airbag. He thinks it either knocked him silly or it plain knocked him out when it went off. He remembers the truck in front of him turning and then nothing. He doesn't recall seeing headlights or another vehicle. He had no idea where she had come from or even what direction she had been traveling. </p><p>He was heartsick about his car. He told us he had cried at the site of the accident. </p><p>That may sound ridiculous or extreme to some people but I understood. This wasn't just a pretty car, it was the last thing he had ever received from his dad. A gift from beyond the grave. When Ken passed away, he gave me strict instructions on a few things and one of them was that I was to buy KC a safe and dependable car with some of the life insurance money I would be receiving. So, a few months after his dad had passed away, we went used car shopping and he found this 50th Anniversary edition Camaro. It was in the price range Ken had set. It was something KC felt he'd keep and pass down to his own son. It was a car and a keepsake.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><p></p><p>The keepsake is destroyed. The last gift was ruined. Of course, KC was understandably heartbroken.</p><p>Worse, he thinks he lost his dad's wedding ring in the accident. Two sentimental losses in one little accident. </p><p>My heart hurts for him over those losses but I am beyond grateful the reinforced steel cockpit protected him from what I think was very close to being a head-on collision. It may not have looked it, but that car was safe. It did its job and saved my boy from serious injury or worse. A broken pinky, loss of wages, and anxiety over making ends meet during the insurance claim are small prices to pay. He is alive. That's all that really matters to this mama. We'll figure the rest of it out. One way or another.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxdFttFcmQmc9yjDrY4DEvnsgCMGIjW13ARl-u1TkebrWK53a8RltOdRWAP4CJQiZgpGD9fIYrT8uAUi4B5iwTPEcE_Qob2VGRq_S7bDiOZDgV3n8_gQWLd7EnQTLrmuZRs7lDp7Dcdlh2rjwgHiPWaZySQ-oIfIFn6hUdxM8BAGBiE-3ILQ/s2434/20221018_105958.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="1825" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxdFttFcmQmc9yjDrY4DEvnsgCMGIjW13ARl-u1TkebrWK53a8RltOdRWAP4CJQiZgpGD9fIYrT8uAUi4B5iwTPEcE_Qob2VGRq_S7bDiOZDgV3n8_gQWLd7EnQTLrmuZRs7lDp7Dcdlh2rjwgHiPWaZySQ-oIfIFn6hUdxM8BAGBiE-3ILQ/s320/20221018_105958.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, all that wrapping for a broken pinky!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-5212233992659305872022-10-15T11:40:00.000-04:002022-10-16T10:14:01.470-04:00It Should Be Our 28th Wedding AnniversaryI had to do the math twice. Probably because I'm really bad at math.<br><br>Today should have been our 28th wedding anniversary. We only made it to 26, which is so impressive when you consider how many marriages end in divorce. So, because I have no doubt in my mind we would have been married still today had cancer not taken him, I want to honor our special day. So, here's a Happy Should Have Been Anniversary to my hubby in heaven. <br><br>Today, as I recognize what should have been and think about what was, I figured I'd share not only some lovely pictures from our wedding day but I'd explain how this widow plans to move through October 15, 2022. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br>In just a little bit, I'm joining another Millington widow at a Widow's Luncheon, which is being hosted by the Amish Church in Millington. I'm a bit nervous, to be honest, because I don't know what to expect. On my best days, I consider myself a bad Christian but most of the time I think I actually lean toward being an agnostic. (I can hear my mom praying for me as she reads this.) Faith is complicated. I've been an attendee at many different types of churches and I've even been willingly baptized as an adult but faith is not something I find easy to reconcile with the world around me. So, leaving that entire discussion for another day, going to an Amish church with a bunch of other grieving widows is an emotional and mental labyrinth for me. Still, I want to go. I want to share this unique journey with others on the same path and this luncheon seems like it might be good for me and the woman who invited me, as well as those I have yet to meet. <div><br></div><div>Later today, I am cleaning up dog poop off my front porch. Life is interesting that way. Maybe I'll do some dishes and laundry, too. Or maybe I'll try to get the slider in my motorhome cleared out for the repairs that will be done on the flooring. My mood when I return from the luncheon will likely influence my decisions. I might just need time to write in my journal. Who knows.</div><div><br></div><div>Finally, I will go have fun with my friends and family later tonight. Good friends of mine are hosting a Halloween party. I plan on going as a modern-day Medusa - pictures later. I'm going to drink a few drinks, play some games, and laugh. Laughter is so good for the soul, so I do not feel bad about going out and having fun on what could be a sad, sappy day if I let it. <br><br>I'm not going to let it be a sad day. It's not how I choose to celebrate what Ken and I built together. He was responsible for much of the love in my life. He is the reason I have these friends. He was my social butterfly and he wouldn't want me sitting at home moping and, frankly, I don't feel like moping. I think that is a sign of healing, at least I hope it is. </div><div><br><br><div><br><div><div><br></div></div></div></div></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-32295224735146340452022-09-03T10:04:00.162-04:002023-03-17T11:29:03.320-04:00A Universal Vacation<p><br /><table 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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgON81LI-VarJpKcrFmlLT9Yxv3oN1Zu6rP1lLt3edooIAuw3Z8TW4pFqsJLgGwLG1Y9R-hw_iolmD8y0MtIRi2SipBLr7xP-5UX7UDWPJrMaW4jGuhO6b_cyhGedVcH3wjp81TF1L0XBHCl9vrvSxUVs8nC_wRunofigneZTakQ69VDDrZfuw/s4000/20220819_095647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgON81LI-VarJpKcrFmlLT9Yxv3oN1Zu6rP1lLt3edooIAuw3Z8TW4pFqsJLgGwLG1Y9R-hw_iolmD8y0MtIRi2SipBLr7xP-5UX7UDWPJrMaW4jGuhO6b_cyhGedVcH3wjp81TF1L0XBHCl9vrvSxUVs8nC_wRunofigneZTakQ69VDDrZfuw/w640-h360/20220819_095647.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>In August, I took KC, Allie, and Riley to Universal Studios for a week of fun and sun. This was the first time Allie and Riley had ever been on an airplane. She was really nervous but they both did great! Riley watched cartoons on his Amazon Kids tablet or slept. </p>I should say everything went well with the planes on the way down to Florida. The return trip was its own special little adventure. We missed our connecting flight and ended up having to be rescheduled onto later flights that flew into a different city than the one we needed. Our luggage made the flight, though, and was delivered to the same airport where my car sat in Long Term Parking. KC, Allie, and Riley flew in several hours before I did and got picked up first. My ride had to pick me up and drive me from one airport to another in order for me to retrieve suitcases and reclaim my Traverse. Like I said, it was an adventure. <p></p><p>Other than that little fiasco and one shattered phone, the trip was wonderful and I loved it so much. It wasn't the sunshine or even the parks, even though both of those things were great. For me, it was spending so much time with the three of them. It doesn't get better than spending time with my boy, his girl, and the world's cutest grandbaby. </p><p>We spent most of our days hopping between Universal Studios and Universal's Islands of Adventure. Our favorite means of getting from Studios to the Islands was the Hogwart's Express train. It was very, very cool. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIW3PjRyjkaReWKJjvPulYpOl91lx1txflbnh9NiYkFInbbDY37e2O-mDTQKZn-yF3gz1XfxYXweuyjt5LGSqSLqmcpAmyEwpsOWxI5PTJjcDy416bDcejOYuWL2loF2zzd55SONWtkMIdD3ICfZ0Rw7IYBt9_FaPqvQULYh_NuG3Vjyt-58/s1916/Screenshot_20230317_103306_Photos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1916" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIW3PjRyjkaReWKJjvPulYpOl91lx1txflbnh9NiYkFInbbDY37e2O-mDTQKZn-yF3gz1XfxYXweuyjt5LGSqSLqmcpAmyEwpsOWxI5PTJjcDy416bDcejOYuWL2loF2zzd55SONWtkMIdD3ICfZ0Rw7IYBt9_FaPqvQULYh_NuG3Vjyt-58/w640-h360/Screenshot_20230317_103306_Photos.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The window was a movie screen that made it appear as if you were traveling through the Wizarding World. This picture does not do it justice. Not even a little bit.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Of course, while we were visiting the Wizarding World, we bought wands in Diagon Alley; I selected Hermoine's, Allie picked up Luna's, and KC bought Dumbledor's. We drank frozen Butterbeer while wandering through Hogsmeade. I may have also purchased some House shirts for us as souvenirs - all three of us are Ravenclaws. Riley is too young to quiz just yet but I think he will end up in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRsZoj38biL17EeILGZ7VVPxRu06X8IW5txTQZapRAmQQas7DM6lZ2sZwK4M-vX5Lonv3EMNUOxKCuZidap59RwMtIsHjp0Vu-r7_LzQxz4GAWM6fNrvcaqCxMxsyOfygU2Xz-u8xvD-KfQv-jb4WiJyKHjCcXZzFMRlylYeIngdIJwi64qA/s4000/20220820_121321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRsZoj38biL17EeILGZ7VVPxRu06X8IW5txTQZapRAmQQas7DM6lZ2sZwK4M-vX5Lonv3EMNUOxKCuZidap59RwMtIsHjp0Vu-r7_LzQxz4GAWM6fNrvcaqCxMxsyOfygU2Xz-u8xvD-KfQv-jb4WiJyKHjCcXZzFMRlylYeIngdIJwi64qA/w225-h400/20220820_121321.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p>We ate a lot of yummy food and rode some rides. I must say the rides were somewhat iffy for me. I got motion sick after one too many virtual reality scenarios. I'd have to take a break in order to keep my stomach from fully revolting. I much preferred the traditional rollercoasters but they were few and far between.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW-B5Y-FGwEAQAvyexCCTw4KcscPN6rmeQnbYT-m3QSWQOXgzyHIqQuwmyc3kfysmJ-6nqKGQt4XphnNBgp0x_446pVmfyp5Y6QxuZWzVI7ie2nBWF6a5go3x7K2jAjl7TNorgMZhhpQXARPGkqglobkNG91Wrt5FpB983chczOtdsB5x0Ao/s4000/20220820_112714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW-B5Y-FGwEAQAvyexCCTw4KcscPN6rmeQnbYT-m3QSWQOXgzyHIqQuwmyc3kfysmJ-6nqKGQt4XphnNBgp0x_446pVmfyp5Y6QxuZWzVI7ie2nBWF6a5go3x7K2jAjl7TNorgMZhhpQXARPGkqglobkNG91Wrt5FpB983chczOtdsB5x0Ao/w640-h360/20220820_112714.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dr. Suess kid's ride was a little bit freaky and Riley ended up having a nightmare that night.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wcIM6vQwfJmn4AHatjxxd_k1hffu0E0uj4GIR9cXaMwlnpFbbra4KEqj3MeaPPlagzu4xKylIUjIZZ8GRkKtOz4mRmZBjv5e2gfOvLiizGiBCjii6kmIDBBoSBYyV5calfT4Ge56O06g7JtxfaWkA3CvhPqq6vGDQrl-4OkJW_fAnC9icJs/s4000/20220820_115541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wcIM6vQwfJmn4AHatjxxd_k1hffu0E0uj4GIR9cXaMwlnpFbbra4KEqj3MeaPPlagzu4xKylIUjIZZ8GRkKtOz4mRmZBjv5e2gfOvLiizGiBCjii6kmIDBBoSBYyV5calfT4Ge56O06g7JtxfaWkA3CvhPqq6vGDQrl-4OkJW_fAnC9icJs/w640-h360/20220820_115541.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSSIb-DOJ75jBbWfMo45oMjvzpIY0jQG3LRjF-kQyNT6quTqNKkQh4raFI8-Box674Nrkfk28LtNY0MskRUqGSdWh71Iq_pl6kgroWzkrEGNu5zALO6ycVnLvcUW2ukz9rNKc4_1rs0Q63KXgdxI5RA9WQWphe2_nRFd4ptBfHSXxLc8bFRc/s2400/Screenshot_20220820-160021_Snapchat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSSIb-DOJ75jBbWfMo45oMjvzpIY0jQG3LRjF-kQyNT6quTqNKkQh4raFI8-Box674Nrkfk28LtNY0MskRUqGSdWh71Iq_pl6kgroWzkrEGNu5zALO6ycVnLvcUW2ukz9rNKc4_1rs0Q63KXgdxI5RA9WQWphe2_nRFd4ptBfHSXxLc8bFRc/w180-h400/Screenshot_20220820-160021_Snapchat.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch inside the park. We liked the Cowfish in Universal CityWalk the most.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDYW4bIHjFcnH3Rv9cI4y9w3yMPHn8-tVMRRWOMOQd3Wm_-FEAgyL7ugeCNi05l0kaiwewBYtZwVFkrFtsmY-9jlDvq8ZbWBgpgHdhf9VD6z09J1IfzesaS8jCfDd1h0r-t_fPw2L-wx_pSEbOW1gsQxO-8vl34uCgC7NOqPvXMRwwMrOvVM/s4000/20220819_153215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDYW4bIHjFcnH3Rv9cI4y9w3yMPHn8-tVMRRWOMOQd3Wm_-FEAgyL7ugeCNi05l0kaiwewBYtZwVFkrFtsmY-9jlDvq8ZbWBgpgHdhf9VD6z09J1IfzesaS8jCfDd1h0r-t_fPw2L-wx_pSEbOW1gsQxO-8vl34uCgC7NOqPvXMRwwMrOvVM/w640-h360/20220819_153215.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me eating some street tacos that burned my mouth. I am such a whimp.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YxKhoG3EyBRnshj8RhpgE1DsnJm4tCPYEPGr_EG1bxJJcrWTdBLBrcT1OBjWL3JlMMPazTRvwzELBvWHYPkiAl6TCSeXCQx_HFjm0UGO8Z_vCKr0m5clMJPM4zON44PdizjJdNTW5QU-PuqPdkDtoi5wEc6qnRD1Xp2fOO_xQ8vR039TFOE/s4000/20220819_153139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YxKhoG3EyBRnshj8RhpgE1DsnJm4tCPYEPGr_EG1bxJJcrWTdBLBrcT1OBjWL3JlMMPazTRvwzELBvWHYPkiAl6TCSeXCQx_HFjm0UGO8Z_vCKr0m5clMJPM4zON44PdizjJdNTW5QU-PuqPdkDtoi5wEc6qnRD1Xp2fOO_xQ8vR039TFOE/w640-h360/20220819_153139.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids and grandbaby enjoying some dinner outside the parks.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>During the middle of the week we took a break from walking through the parks and hit up Volcano Bay. I splurged and got us a private cabana. It was so nice. It not only gave us room to relax, it also provided us with a refrigerator full of water and a platter of fruit and pastries. The safe allowed us to leave our personal belongings without worrying about anything disappearing on us. We had two issues, though. One, it was still almost impossible to keep the two-year-old from running out of the cabana and down the busy walkways. Two, I managed to completely destroy KC's cell phone by accidentally knocking it out of the safe and onto the unforgiving floor. That, my friends, was a costly mistake! </p><p>Yes, KC got a new phone out of the deal. I broke it, not him, so it was my mistake to fix. That added a bit to the vacation bill!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmDoFSfowx-_i1PO8yPoTGl7vcoc6fwNxLht2j43LvDEhgDJ69BW-iXS-djpKhDizw6hOBDiHkf6G1piiKD6ldBU2U5KfvYUf2b1KUctddZLNd3W0a33wxWpZNf_8T9oq7cnUMIhZ_altJCVXDRz26q4PgZv6unCJul1V3LSWNMPLwborPFE/s4000/20220821_134103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmDoFSfowx-_i1PO8yPoTGl7vcoc6fwNxLht2j43LvDEhgDJ69BW-iXS-djpKhDizw6hOBDiHkf6G1piiKD6ldBU2U5KfvYUf2b1KUctddZLNd3W0a33wxWpZNf_8T9oq7cnUMIhZ_altJCVXDRz26q4PgZv6unCJul1V3LSWNMPLwborPFE/w225-h400/20220821_134103.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wigJEwSP52Y92M5zZM2Jz98yVHe54JzoyjJjYgFKyU7u3yVePDsg0TpD8QxVduKHaP6ShuHi6Rfbs80orwZ_5dcbPTcDCmPohYs06VY0pUtcmvb4xK-hUZK2Y4uWzEL11uAwh7XOpPYx1uu_Yr2cjLswLKyNbfrDaEhQYgjBzWivPzyfq1c/s4000/20220821_103418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wigJEwSP52Y92M5zZM2Jz98yVHe54JzoyjJjYgFKyU7u3yVePDsg0TpD8QxVduKHaP6ShuHi6Rfbs80orwZ_5dcbPTcDCmPohYs06VY0pUtcmvb4xK-hUZK2Y4uWzEL11uAwh7XOpPYx1uu_Yr2cjLswLKyNbfrDaEhQYgjBzWivPzyfq1c/w225-h400/20220821_103418.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29WjAvBECFadDymZlM0b6a9aVO1MQix2PGFWIM7m_qIL2BgJ0W433xqa68Umm_PuoOE76Cf3rwQy53afX8qlAg-NplMshtUx67uIfW7ChbAJUxmFE6Rx-u68rNlfYzNuzjQ6uZT2GyVKrwFegU2rVsbVSC3UMJwb9Ibg3GwuqiIR6MRqCQP8/s4000/20220821_103448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29WjAvBECFadDymZlM0b6a9aVO1MQix2PGFWIM7m_qIL2BgJ0W433xqa68Umm_PuoOE76Cf3rwQy53afX8qlAg-NplMshtUx67uIfW7ChbAJUxmFE6Rx-u68rNlfYzNuzjQ6uZT2GyVKrwFegU2rVsbVSC3UMJwb9Ibg3GwuqiIR6MRqCQP8/w225-h400/20220821_103448.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p>Also, I was brave and did the Ko'okiri Body Plunge ride with KC. It's a body slide that is angled at 70 degrees and drops for 125 feet before pushing you into the pool at the bottom of the volcano. It was intense but I honestly thought climbing up the volcano to go on it was going to be what killed me. I was so out of breath by the time we reached the top that I needed a moment to recuperate. </p><p>It was definitely a vacation to remember. I just hope the kids enjoyed it as much as I did. </p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0Orlando, FL, USA28.5383832 -81.37892690.22814936382115292 -116.5351769 56.848617036178844 -46.222676899999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-48041623738299420942022-07-31T11:42:00.121-04:002023-03-17T12:45:38.527-04:00Faster Horses <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqA2X9sGmQK-a3PfZgGZBWMp6_jBllio11QtcsgespkL845gumyFvWZorG1HUTjr-7Tw8KhOgGSxTVXNk4xDA7xdARFk56wr2ADXyquLzqwSt4d66J2e-kjG3jB15lSTMvnH73InDYQQaIaOFWLsk58Zuv7G9cPYT2dMlrkhqDjyeHE9stiNs/s1748/20220722_120120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1748" data-original-width="1394" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqA2X9sGmQK-a3PfZgGZBWMp6_jBllio11QtcsgespkL845gumyFvWZorG1HUTjr-7Tw8KhOgGSxTVXNk4xDA7xdARFk56wr2ADXyquLzqwSt4d66J2e-kjG3jB15lSTMvnH73InDYQQaIaOFWLsk58Zuv7G9cPYT2dMlrkhqDjyeHE9stiNs/w319-h400/20220722_120120.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><br />I had heard about Faster Horses but this was my first time attending the three-day country music festival. The headliners were Morgan Wallen, Eric Church, and Tim McGraw. <br /><br /><i>An important note:</i> I was a big country music fan back in the mid-90s and early 2000s. This means I know a lot of Tim McGraw's backlist and was excited to see him perform. However, this also means I hardly knew any of his new stuff, had listened to only a handful of Eric Church's songs, and absolutely none of Morgan Wallen's music. <p></p><p>I am not a Morgan Wallen fan. Sorry. I tried. I really did. Just not a fan.</p><p>Eric Church has some songs I enjoy singing along with in the car. </p><p>Tim is Tim. He was the musical highlight of the festival for me. </p><p>The true highlight of the festival, though, was getting to spend a weekend away with my sisters and sister-in-law. I'd include Gage and Hallie in that, too, but they spent most of the weekend with Gavin and his friends. I think they may have also hung out a bit with Jack. In short, they really only slept in the camper with us and would head off as soon as they got themselves up and around the next morning. <br /><br />At our campsite, which was ideally located near the back of a lot with really clean port-a-potties nearby, we had my motorhome and Megan's tent. Chrissy and Megan slept in the tent. I shared my bed with Jaime while Gage and Hallie slept in the bunk over the cab. The table and benches were covered with luggage, food, and beverages. <br /><br />Luckily, my onboard generator provided us with power and the festival grounds provided us with a place to fill up my water tank. This meant we could do dishes when necessasry and take really brief showers. However, the water situation wasn't ideal. Longer showers could be found at the shower station within walking distance of our site or we could use the portable shower system I had bought for just this occasion. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLqTv-X_SuOGZtQGIRG23oHaUE1Wb3Wwf-M7K1s5fY-e1YplEej44Q74BbjIaS052HJ3gJxUwQ8wTqGAxhi-6qRui5e2ClCRz2VrwjWtlmEXVgzmKqhBS2MLEzK1ruOQyM7rKV2LCSELV67nM47oZ6zn5kqBmTAQs9TnDt78vcLuohXut0I4/s2048/received_546024890554263.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLqTv-X_SuOGZtQGIRG23oHaUE1Wb3Wwf-M7K1s5fY-e1YplEej44Q74BbjIaS052HJ3gJxUwQ8wTqGAxhi-6qRui5e2ClCRz2VrwjWtlmEXVgzmKqhBS2MLEzK1ruOQyM7rKV2LCSELV67nM47oZ6zn5kqBmTAQs9TnDt78vcLuohXut0I4/w300-h400/received_546024890554263.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our group.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxJPIMcF0hbj8IqfLEPdf_tCXbplTqvV3jIGsI88I181EclGRjOd55AsrGpWt168G9fYNPo_LWT8rEKcSh8I8ojbFYr4B53ZEX3Y4nZwssIJCNe4ynncvdIi1s2hXbOJWzKCFMInM0LBhQ6chHf3ZaNB6PCChIvJwFvl469NpuQfbHnaz4t4/s2048/received_748076643132583.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxJPIMcF0hbj8IqfLEPdf_tCXbplTqvV3jIGsI88I181EclGRjOd55AsrGpWt168G9fYNPo_LWT8rEKcSh8I8ojbFYr4B53ZEX3Y4nZwssIJCNe4ynncvdIi1s2hXbOJWzKCFMInM0LBhQ6chHf3ZaNB6PCChIvJwFvl469NpuQfbHnaz4t4/w300-h400/received_748076643132583.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The shower stall.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhfgjVc1xryF9is2kbdv--l_wjcNJvyE11k4xPBdrTGqhSsuMGd33Y_P49UWtX-Y2AdkwxBGWZf3YM6XBBKcD_-qgrPfpCpnRtCL6TJABTb6RL8TXw_TJAMiGOKphujyTXG1PQI0LBu4PJsRTGHfaPhJoNxFlIpk_qnDtdGOE-5vboDVk0m8/s2048/received_1209399009838850.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhfgjVc1xryF9is2kbdv--l_wjcNJvyE11k4xPBdrTGqhSsuMGd33Y_P49UWtX-Y2AdkwxBGWZf3YM6XBBKcD_-qgrPfpCpnRtCL6TJABTb6RL8TXw_TJAMiGOKphujyTXG1PQI0LBu4PJsRTGHfaPhJoNxFlIpk_qnDtdGOE-5vboDVk0m8/w300-h400/received_1209399009838850.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attaching the water bag to the camper ladder so gravity could do its thing.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Overall, the camping was really quite comfortable and I wasn't at all worried about the motorhome. Not only were we in the back corner of the field, but we were also surrounded by very respectful and (mostly) quiet neighbors. We even let the kids (they were in their 20s) pull their table under my lit awning and play games. We had outdoor lights, which are very useful when trying to play drinking games after the concerts have ended.<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg796-aM2Uzn7oKHhHYojxWsBHvHxpRgULg-YdVnd0qoD6sqCSqkfQIz7sdcBbjbNilyE_LFUN6NwD61j_9gpVg0O94euAwrDbIH4PIl3OZTCilZmIbk5pmvtZkinmxhIR08Vpr1MCL5TLw2eDD7knyMyRHQzQ22l33TyVHin4FMHcxxZtDeLg/s4000/20220724_221151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg796-aM2Uzn7oKHhHYojxWsBHvHxpRgULg-YdVnd0qoD6sqCSqkfQIz7sdcBbjbNilyE_LFUN6NwD61j_9gpVg0O94euAwrDbIH4PIl3OZTCilZmIbk5pmvtZkinmxhIR08Vpr1MCL5TLw2eDD7knyMyRHQzQ22l33TyVHin4FMHcxxZtDeLg/w225-h400/20220724_221151.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tim</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhQDgIOVeVCtIU7zoZC9LFeYIg9ifaqr0EPtXjV1oZHgcL6to2GYjGWOD4JO9Yc7AYI_KwSyB9DAuqKuUnaLH_jBbiOp1PdWxegdkosp-AU16mQ0eUGqPbewRMIMkGkiAWhFEpWH6LtmpzKljnboaBvu2k8g0iWp6hwlV1x9UleAkoSi_Kyo/s4000/20220722_212952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="4000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhQDgIOVeVCtIU7zoZC9LFeYIg9ifaqr0EPtXjV1oZHgcL6to2GYjGWOD4JO9Yc7AYI_KwSyB9DAuqKuUnaLH_jBbiOp1PdWxegdkosp-AU16mQ0eUGqPbewRMIMkGkiAWhFEpWH6LtmpzKljnboaBvu2k8g0iWp6hwlV1x9UleAkoSi_Kyo/w640-h288/20220722_212952.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that crowd!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRFxUhVKmrQaGc6og2vzYkR6DCfY48jqH72bciF2ZsTLwRR6G7wqk78lzuz0GicsWUXge7_gwwxT0DtunV1Erd5x3bS3a3xnShGIaWXy06-zbNtqWke4QA-nnjDe0kRIOT7GYm162L5gUhz0TUa09AuhU4u_o_mUP-Y5KaKltkxUj4SBg_YQM/s4000/20220722_215117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="4000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRFxUhVKmrQaGc6og2vzYkR6DCfY48jqH72bciF2ZsTLwRR6G7wqk78lzuz0GicsWUXge7_gwwxT0DtunV1Erd5x3bS3a3xnShGIaWXy06-zbNtqWke4QA-nnjDe0kRIOT7GYm162L5gUhz0TUa09AuhU4u_o_mUP-Y5KaKltkxUj4SBg_YQM/w640-h288/20220722_215117.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After dark.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Despite the insanely hot weather, I enjoyed myself. It was fun hanging out with Megan, Chrissy, and Jaime. I also discovered a couple of smaller artists that I enjoyed listening to in the Off Nashville tent or on the main stage. </div><div><br /></div><div>The question is whether or not I'd go again? I must admit I'm not feeling inclined to rush out and buy tickets for next year. When I'm at a concert, I want to sing along with the artist and I just didn't know enough of the music to be able to do that. Now, I know I could start listening to more country music over the next twelve months, but I'm not going to. I like the genres I listen to now. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, as of today, no. I don't think I'd go again. Not unless my taste in music undergoes a major overhaul.<br /><br /></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-4671576030618860952022-07-19T15:15:00.004-04:002022-11-22T09:55:15.688-05:00Updating the US Travel Bucket List<p> I created a <a href="https://krista225.blogspot.com/2014/03/travel-bucket-list.html" target="_blank">Travel Bucket List post</a> back in March 2014. The first part of the list was dedicated to destinations outside the US. Sadly, that portion of the post remains the same. No travel abroad for me. However, I do need to update the Travel within the US portion. <br /><br />Let's dive in!</p><div style="font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;"><h2 style="background-color: white; color: #9f7ab5; font-family: "Indie Flower"; font-weight: 400; margin: 0px 0px 10px; position: relative; text-align: center;">Travel within the US</h2><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><strike><b><i>1. </i></b><b><i>Yellowstone National Park - Wyoming</i></b></strike></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I've always wanted to visit Yellowstone. In 2013, we made it happen. It was a two-week vacation filled with many, many hours of driving. We drove across the country to get there. We drove through the park. We drove through Beartooth Pass into Montana. We drove down to South Dakota to visit Deadwood, Mt. Rushmore, and the Badlands National Park. Then we drove home. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I wouldn't change a thing. It was one of the most beautiful trips we've taken so far. I'd go back in a heartbeat.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><strike>2. Badlands National Park - South Dakota</strike></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">Another national park we can cross off our list. The thing is, though, I would love to go back. It was stunning in an alien kind of way. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>3. Glacier National Park - Montana</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I've been told it's gorgeous and should be on my bucket list. So, here it is. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><b><i><strike style="background-color: #fff2cc;">3. Boston, Massachusetts </strike><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;">(updated)</span></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">We took a family vacation with our best friends and their kids in 2017. We stayed in Nahant, which was pretty much situated between Boston and Salem. It's the little peninsula circled on the map below. Our rental was small but adorable. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #4a4439; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1OPa32Got6JdV1UHCTLDIGL1dG7BcLtuwc_xu4ptsOM9GtyPPsU2BeIIx4OBf7r-NjdyPQvC9yHjw4ERerjWZn0YT8YRszuY42j5tLsmrG-TQGuFP9Z9GGjQd2WqKztji7QvBUJqIR5ChLtKCFLee9f_jl8ms_gi1JnVRVeXIoF4mRFnwSU/s331/nahant.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="331" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1OPa32Got6JdV1UHCTLDIGL1dG7BcLtuwc_xu4ptsOM9GtyPPsU2BeIIx4OBf7r-NjdyPQvC9yHjw4ERerjWZn0YT8YRszuY42j5tLsmrG-TQGuFP9Z9GGjQd2WqKztji7QvBUJqIR5ChLtKCFLee9f_jl8ms_gi1JnVRVeXIoF4mRFnwSU/w200-h137/nahant.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We spent quite a few days just enjoying our rental and exploring the little island-like place we were visiting. However, we did go into Boston and Salem to partake of some tourist attractions. I must admit Salem was rather disappointing. The only thing I really found interesting and compelling was the graveyard. In Boston, we went on a Duckboat tour and a ghost walk. Both were pretty cool because they came with guides well versed in the history of the city. <div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>4. New Orleans, Louisiana </i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I want to experience Mardi Gras at least once. That is all. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="color: #4a4439;"><b><i><strike style="background-color: #fff2cc;">5. Myrtle Beach, South Carolina</strike><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"> (updated)</span></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">We rented a condo in Myrtle Beach over the boys' spring break in 2014. We visited the boardwalk and Ripley's Aquarium. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiM33bSmTNTcu66_FwMiylJY0v-LTPNUp78wiT1xmbHhSu42haArduTql_c5vap0PvdKverq-NQ_du6IgCihb9j-g5Skn9jF9-MO95tULPySt4tvf65mWIcetj22i5iW1ttMiaqmNLBeLhBvE0qguc5ApFZl_Bqlou1-AjRVa7qoq0ISxZ_8/s400/13832415705_4638710724_w.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="265" data-original-width="400" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiM33bSmTNTcu66_FwMiylJY0v-LTPNUp78wiT1xmbHhSu42haArduTql_c5vap0PvdKverq-NQ_du6IgCihb9j-g5Skn9jF9-MO95tULPySt4tvf65mWIcetj22i5iW1ttMiaqmNLBeLhBvE0qguc5ApFZl_Bqlou1-AjRVa7qoq0ISxZ_8/s320/13832415705_4638710724_w.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmH5SxAigC2_HrOS2c_m4MpRZzI_t6Jfhv_VovO3OzOmOxuvkuRVrVWIIjvdS7UXHLfaMWbgrQ9kc4eSyAbKmSX1mPmS8famBacMNVZh0gzjCFoWDBC-HXEEw29jBQrMRcyb2UCPD1eVNi21c03B6N-4yepBI8p5nm7GLoE4fheANRyUDEsI/s400/13870973665_b0e3b09e89_w.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="265" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmH5SxAigC2_HrOS2c_m4MpRZzI_t6Jfhv_VovO3OzOmOxuvkuRVrVWIIjvdS7UXHLfaMWbgrQ9kc4eSyAbKmSX1mPmS8famBacMNVZh0gzjCFoWDBC-HXEEw29jBQrMRcyb2UCPD1eVNi21c03B6N-4yepBI8p5nm7GLoE4fheANRyUDEsI/s320/13870973665_b0e3b09e89_w.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>6. New York, New York</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I'd want to visit the 9/11 memorial, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, and Times Square. I'd also love to attend a Broadway show.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><strike>7. Acadia National Park - Maine</strike></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">Technically, we've visited this park. For a day. It wasn't nearly long enough and I vote for a second, more extended stay! </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>8. </i></b><b><i>Yosemite National Park - California</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I love national parks. As this one is so famous, I'm sure it will be an amazing experience if - no, when - I make it there.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>9. Grand Teton National Park - Wyoming</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">See #8 for an explanation. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>10. Redwood National Park - California</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">I need to see those trees. Really, I do. I don't think pictures can do justice to their immensity. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><b><i>11. Alaska</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;">This is one of the places I'd like to visit from the deck of an ocean liner. I want to see the orca whales at play and spot an eagle or two perched in the treetops.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439;"><br /></div></div><div style="color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;"><b><i style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><strike>11. Hawaii </strike>(updated)</i></b></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;">Well, this happened much earlier than anticipated! I wasn't even sure I'd ever set foot on any of these tropical islands. Yet, Ken surprised me by planning a trip to Kauai for our 25th wedding anniversary. I expected a lot more flowers. Not that the island wasn't beautiful, it was. We got in our little red convertible and drove all over the place. We also did a Zodiac boat tour of the Napali Coast. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;">Given what followed this 2019 vacation, I am beyond grateful my amazing husband made this happen. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKt1XTAu7SjhOLDGQYBsLzgth1TyO6_FY_oN8Cpjz18I8b0t_Ioq5Wtmaa7rqzrp7y5tjMdkvyJ13gSOp0wUcgB5EYD6uKtXyEY5lYS_7LH9DRJuxOnnmtn7KZpJE7ePOox5ttaPCorkNFS_xhUarL6WiXchb138DLt6JozOPlOGI09wQJzO0/s1121/00100sPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20191015123414660_COVER.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1121" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKt1XTAu7SjhOLDGQYBsLzgth1TyO6_FY_oN8Cpjz18I8b0t_Ioq5Wtmaa7rqzrp7y5tjMdkvyJ13gSOp0wUcgB5EYD6uKtXyEY5lYS_7LH9DRJuxOnnmtn7KZpJE7ePOox5ttaPCorkNFS_xhUarL6WiXchb138DLt6JozOPlOGI09wQJzO0/w400-h300/00100sPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20191015123414660_COVER.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="background-color: white; color: #4a4439; font-family: "Open Sans"; font-size: 14px;"><br /></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-89605111342694811732022-07-12T11:11:00.003-04:002022-11-10T10:05:41.688-05:00Camping Adventures in My Class C<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLOmJY2Ewjdz8gi7nosesAYPUVHVXbuRSTKv7mFYDe06LI6n0vmnVFB0SsyYX0AQY5MWmKOSEOia1AZM5YJQ0e4U1AW77vduh6Qb1inGzaXx28Q15l57dEC5bVOC8zxQtA2Jongeh3EjpZks88KgP9cB8geTb2EQOSA9mGd8idhE_U_kCGt4/s1920/20210917_110957.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1920" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLOmJY2Ewjdz8gi7nosesAYPUVHVXbuRSTKv7mFYDe06LI6n0vmnVFB0SsyYX0AQY5MWmKOSEOia1AZM5YJQ0e4U1AW77vduh6Qb1inGzaXx28Q15l57dEC5bVOC8zxQtA2Jongeh3EjpZks88KgP9cB8geTb2EQOSA9mGd8idhE_U_kCGt4/w640-h288/20210917_110957.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My New Camper</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Before he passed away, Ken made me promise that I would keep camping. He knew how much I enjoyed it and he didn't want me to give up something that brought me pleasure. When things weren't looking good near the end, I had even asked him if he thought we should sell the fifth wheel right then because I knew I wasn't up to hauling it. He shot that idea down pretty fast. He told me I could take care of it later. In retrospect, I don't think he had the mental, emotional, or physical energy necessary to deal with selling it.</p><p>My first camping trip after his passing was in that giant fifth wheel. Gage hauled it over to Wolverine Campground for me. I followed behind in my Traverse. After getting set up, Gage and Hallie went home and I was camping once more. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCn6jmh-dXMb78_T-UYCO5ZlLElbfON8Izf8wXW5tQktxUcv_yORZKmGPjC8YK1U1m0YxcGcdsNSiBPaCk6cLHXWMJVxpVj3jnt6irqnFUcHiyXPTom8k8WEUmJG6u2qfCx0csRVl0-UNT21bI92rQBOZH8KjeZIAViGMxa9w8XMh9C6OSfM/s1174/PXL_20210626_173751856.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="1174" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCn6jmh-dXMb78_T-UYCO5ZlLElbfON8Izf8wXW5tQktxUcv_yORZKmGPjC8YK1U1m0YxcGcdsNSiBPaCk6cLHXWMJVxpVj3jnt6irqnFUcHiyXPTom8k8WEUmJG6u2qfCx0csRVl0-UNT21bI92rQBOZH8KjeZIAViGMxa9w8XMh9C6OSfM/s320/PXL_20210626_173751856.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It was strange for so many reasons. I had camped by myself before but this time I was a widow. I was responsible for not only the inside tasks, which I had always been in charge of, but now I was also responsible for the outside tasks. Of course, there were a few hiccups. Luckily, I wasn't completely alone at the campground. <div><br /></div><div>Jeff and Laura were camping right next to me. Thank goodness! Jeff helped me figure out what I needed to do in order to get rid of the winterizing fluids. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, being at the campground with the two of them felt a little strange because we were normally a foursome. They had become our most frequent camping buddies over the years, so Ken's absence was tangible. He was the ghost lurking at the campfire. He was the missing person at the kitchen table when it rained. It was all very strange and sad. </div><div><br /></div><div>The weekend was made even more difficult by the tornado watch that was issued shortly after dinner on Saturday evening. We all piled into our cars and headed home to our respective basements. Yes, we were camping that close to home. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our second trip in the 5th wheel was our last. Gage pulled it up to River Ridge Family Campground. On the way, we had a bit of trouble. The road we were on was so rough it bounced the cord out of its cubby hole above the hitch and we ended up shredding the electric cable. We were stranded on the side of the road until some kind man saw us and stopped to offer some assistance. Knowing we had no brakes, brake lights, or blinkers, he offered to follow us from where we sat on the side of the road to our campground. </div><div><br /></div><div>That was a rough trip. We didn't even stay through our entire reservation. It was too difficult being there for our annual 4th of July camp with our friends when Ken was so missed. Gage struggled. Our friends struggled. I struggled. Leaving early felt like the right call and I don't regret my decision to pack up and head home. Not even a little. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI6q0xjguVd_zEk0AKT6VbKXIPGODXSnQr7OF-Q7N4NS8BOOTITO7BDXEezVgSr3AYl-ApkzTRQUS4Av8i4eavzV9Wyn4ZsEq6jLuO8ajIhqSP-A6Yo07yDxtxFMnBlbG1LX03EMDcG8l1vQKOmiPAnmgyF-T2qT0MMVPWdzx67bm9ElQQls/s4032/PXL_20210705_150540210.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI6q0xjguVd_zEk0AKT6VbKXIPGODXSnQr7OF-Q7N4NS8BOOTITO7BDXEezVgSr3AYl-ApkzTRQUS4Av8i4eavzV9Wyn4ZsEq6jLuO8ajIhqSP-A6Yo07yDxtxFMnBlbG1LX03EMDcG8l1vQKOmiPAnmgyF-T2qT0MMVPWdzx67bm9ElQQls/w400-h300/PXL_20210705_150540210.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The outdoor kitchen was nice and I miss it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I ended up trading in the fifth wheel the next month. I found myself a smaller, more manageable class C motorhome that I could drive myself without having to rely on Gage's availability to tow me around. It's small. Super small. Luckily, I usually camp alone now, which means it's a perfect fit for me and the two dogs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because I bought it so late in the season, I didn't get to do a lot of camping in it. The problems, though, started immediately. I had to take it back to the dealership a week after I purchased it because the onboard generator was not properly bolted down and was wrecking the floor near the dinette. Also, the air conditioning blew a thermostat fuse. All of this was discovered with driveway test runs. Ugg. I'd like to say that was the end of my troubles with this brand new 2022 motorhome, but they were just the beginning. I am STILL dealing with faulty parts. Most of these problems were discovered while camping, though, so at least I'm getting some use out of her!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We went Halloween camping. We decorated our sites and handed out candy to the campground trick-or-treaters. <br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdV0yc8A4GqG5up8xxwr5PCwsmsook1MrSKwhq_p7ctAHoyhYAbdIit66tFXS97zJytXFxCmtUK3uMK997JAAneWNG-tEiS8sYDRAnx8Qbi6bHTV7KJD18DFSde1zXljhERJp-VGKhucLfQfZskU8SqooOH87kEzNRL_s8U5JO_a-6TCeLoxs/s1920/20211009_121332.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1920" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdV0yc8A4GqG5up8xxwr5PCwsmsook1MrSKwhq_p7ctAHoyhYAbdIit66tFXS97zJytXFxCmtUK3uMK997JAAneWNG-tEiS8sYDRAnx8Qbi6bHTV7KJD18DFSde1zXljhERJp-VGKhucLfQfZskU8SqooOH87kEzNRL_s8U5JO_a-6TCeLoxs/w640-h288/20211009_121332.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I drove it from Michigan to Florida with my dad in order to spend a week in Orlando. We visited three Disney theme parks that week. (We also had air conditioning trouble again that I only recently got fixed...the joys of having a brand new camper that was constructed during the pandemic.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0siVzX36Hz0N-rELHTt_IiaWZ85EFMkP0bhVcXhQUc82h0QtAl8kEBSUFsUuWAGynIEPd23aDT2f3PnxYX53bAROnw5J1em4bIJbNbywwfBeML_77o64tMeU4n1rvyeuBBmCDsf1n0a9VvnkBoN4AyM5so3i2I8bthgrpmlP8SKNcWqTOFI/s1921/20220316_194709.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1921" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0siVzX36Hz0N-rELHTt_IiaWZ85EFMkP0bhVcXhQUc82h0QtAl8kEBSUFsUuWAGynIEPd23aDT2f3PnxYX53bAROnw5J1em4bIJbNbywwfBeML_77o64tMeU4n1rvyeuBBmCDsf1n0a9VvnkBoN4AyM5so3i2I8bthgrpmlP8SKNcWqTOFI/w640-h288/20220316_194709.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzTLIa-LxM6sdjUDj9gyd5jAg9yNtj7xRqHzJ14QenVXunpKboakHVyXK78TH2e-pEBkBq9MP_qoJwjh7BKImfPstODtfmuWKdx-CzhJmO85tdZjNnaB1Q8ASQXEb6fSRWr3J3RZk_JKucv6-nhY88h7Gqx9IbgdgdEOoU40Zbjx37ftQ4r8/s1920/20220321_091809.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1920" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzTLIa-LxM6sdjUDj9gyd5jAg9yNtj7xRqHzJ14QenVXunpKboakHVyXK78TH2e-pEBkBq9MP_qoJwjh7BKImfPstODtfmuWKdx-CzhJmO85tdZjNnaB1Q8ASQXEb6fSRWr3J3RZk_JKucv6-nhY88h7Gqx9IbgdgdEOoU40Zbjx37ftQ4r8/w640-h288/20220321_091809.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dad and I had a great vacation together. On our way down to Florida, we stopped in Kentucky at my Aunt Wilma's house for a couple of nights. We boondocked in her side yard. I used the generator to run my fan, the Keurig, and the microwave. We also used the generator when we stayed overnight in Tennessee at Tsali Notch Vineyards. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since that big trip down south, I've done some local camping and even taken the motorhome to my mom's for a weekend visit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xA-3-ll6wb45s7st0FPQ052Itjm2oT0G4w4L46fqz6Vy4f-X3ABWmobk6CuLCIFYhW3Y9de0F57lXwVZXj3P5JMIlq7qnVURtj9K0Rtt--z3iRML5seyYFNj_ImNOTJ5od2Ygjq-hZLAAFJ_TYQ4kmcexGf8MYhKOn716DniySm3o3xgsRI/s1920/20220417_100227.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1920" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xA-3-ll6wb45s7st0FPQ052Itjm2oT0G4w4L46fqz6Vy4f-X3ABWmobk6CuLCIFYhW3Y9de0F57lXwVZXj3P5JMIlq7qnVURtj9K0Rtt--z3iRML5seyYFNj_ImNOTJ5od2Ygjq-hZLAAFJ_TYQ4kmcexGf8MYhKOn716DniySm3o3xgsRI/w640-h288/20220417_100227.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These trips make me feel good about my investment. I did not make a mistake in making this major purchase so soon after Ken's death. I am fulfilling a promise and making memories with my loved ones. I am also enjoying some much-needed solitude when I need it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6CjSeu4qc6DjQTPpAk8ARot12R5DX3OrWTYuyl5yw_sKTnOppmVk2-mmv-YGbNUgDBRORMnReOVwQyusLxx8F87xnJY2uyVFQrC2hPSAD-YynWGlGeFT-pA8LML-DF-vD-F4R_kNPYMQK97hxRYBdNx9WrDLCjwGxX0P1mw1dmt7D7-nfvo/s937/Snapchat-1149085237.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="447" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6CjSeu4qc6DjQTPpAk8ARot12R5DX3OrWTYuyl5yw_sKTnOppmVk2-mmv-YGbNUgDBRORMnReOVwQyusLxx8F87xnJY2uyVFQrC2hPSAD-YynWGlGeFT-pA8LML-DF-vD-F4R_kNPYMQK97hxRYBdNx9WrDLCjwGxX0P1mw1dmt7D7-nfvo/w306-h640/Snapchat-1149085237.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Being at the campground by myself can be a good thing. When I went on my first solo trip of the season - no kids with me, no friends camped nearby - I edited photos, did Soduko, watched Blu Ray movies, wrote in my journal, and worked on my novel. There were absolutely no demands on my time and I found so much joy in that knowledge. It refreshed me in ways only another introvert can probably appreciate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, the season is only halfway over and most of my trips will be with friends or family. I just came home from our annual 4th of July trip, which went so much better this year than it did last year. Gage and Hallie stayed with me. There were three adults and three dogs in my little camper. It got messy and crowded, but we did it! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4f875IFzY3JxueIqgbmhpOIW6d2UWdUwqqXXbrtmPdohBVbRLn7A017K13DFbTK-a2kVwcybjs8HvhIMbWy_sEoUWVaSJB1IidIfcS3BeiPg-WaW9kooWHxBr1UsYZSfa5aLh7UALHtBI_hUSovi-HrKsn-E_uKSI-ExILKkoIHyLGHNQhA/s4000/20220701_090223.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="4000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4f875IFzY3JxueIqgbmhpOIW6d2UWdUwqqXXbrtmPdohBVbRLn7A017K13DFbTK-a2kVwcybjs8HvhIMbWy_sEoUWVaSJB1IidIfcS3BeiPg-WaW9kooWHxBr1UsYZSfa5aLh7UALHtBI_hUSovi-HrKsn-E_uKSI-ExILKkoIHyLGHNQhA/w640-h288/20220701_090223.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our camping group. My motorhome, Jimmy and Laura's camper, Dustin in his parent's camper, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and, finally, Jeff and Laura's camper. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This upcoming weekend I have plans with another group of friends at the Rifle River Outdoor Adventure campground in Sterling. Then, the following weekend, we will be boondocking at Faster Horses. I imagine it will be a little crowded that trip with six of us trying to use my camper!</div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-71783442382434898472022-02-01T16:29:00.005-05:002022-02-01T16:53:01.400-05:00Dreams and Nightmares<p>It's been a little over eight months now since I lost my husband to pancreatic cancer. Overall, I think I'm doing fairly well. The house is still standing. I am still standing. Those both seem like significant wins. </p><p>I get through most days now without hardly a tear but there are those other days, days when I find myself unexpectedly crying. Maybe it's a song on the radio or a touching scene on the screen setting off memories or reminding me of dreams unfulfilled. I cry then. It's impossible to hold back the grief, the self-pity, the wishes for more, or the distress at what happened in those last few weeks. </p><p>But for the most part, I think I am functioning fairly well. I am keeping my shit together. I am getting stuff done. I am taking care of what needs to be taken care of, whether that's the house, the bills, the car, the camper, the day job, the kids, or the grandbaby. </p><p>Every now and again I give myself permission to do nothing, though, because the loss of a partner is hard. So this last Saturday I sat on the couch almost the whole day. I binged television shows, played games on my phone, and lounged around in my PJs. When I finally got into the bath, I read a book for a good hour or more. I relaxed. I recharged. I indulged my need for solitude and stillness without feeling even a tad bit guilty. It was needed. Heck, it's probably needed a lot more often. </p><p>The truth is I'm afraid of falling into a debilitating depression, so I limit my do-nothing see-nobody go-nowhere days. But sometimes you just need to stop. Pause. Recharge.</p><p>I think these things - the doing and the being still - are all signs that I'm doing better. </p><p>Or so I hope.</p><p>I am concerned, though, that while my waking brain is doing a better job of coping, my subconscious is still struggling to come to terms with everything. In the beginning, Ken would visit me in dreams. We would talk. We would snuggle. We would drive down the road and chit-chat about the kids. They were good, reassuring dreams. </p><p>Lately, though, the dreams have been replaced by nightmares. He is sick and dying. He is in pain. Those are hard enough but I lived through that very reality so I can usually console myself with the idea that his misery is over and he's in a better place. The nightmares where he is absent are more difficult. I've seen my kids killed. My dad. More loss and more pain. Anguished by these too real nightmares, I lay awake for too long trying to regain some measure of peace. I talk to myself or hug my dog. I turn on the lights. I've even found that guided imagery helps push out the horrific images by replacing car accidents and health crises with sandy beaches or autumn forests. The gentle music underlying the narrator's gentle suggestions eases tension from clenched muscles. </p><p>I think these nightmares are signs that I still have a long way to go until I'm truly okay. Right now, I'm wondering if I'm just not faking it more than a little bit even when I don't feel like I'm faking it. If that makes sense..</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJPqOTwdwqAeMjTrFLVHOiWOMiRXoblXYWWB1fw4tSbndpo7nb2sbYwPewjODqaRV2YjClOyY6HacVDVaHlA3OgxS5VqiQgtHKdlsM2fffDXlUYEDBhwSodeD_1iQGsngK_bXj-knUuw8WFqPHxwetWTB5LXdGGXRzCRKb6esetCKptnTQyqk=s1080" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJPqOTwdwqAeMjTrFLVHOiWOMiRXoblXYWWB1fw4tSbndpo7nb2sbYwPewjODqaRV2YjClOyY6HacVDVaHlA3OgxS5VqiQgtHKdlsM2fffDXlUYEDBhwSodeD_1iQGsngK_bXj-knUuw8WFqPHxwetWTB5LXdGGXRzCRKb6esetCKptnTQyqk=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-69964944985883973042021-12-31T20:11:00.010-05:002021-12-31T20:11:00.172-05:002021 Reading Challenge - Complete Fail<p>This likely comes as no surprise given the year it has been, but I did not successfully complete <a href="https://krista225.blogspot.com/2021/01/2021-reading-challenge.html" target="_blank">my 2021 reading challenge</a>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpiJ6AiwidtoCc6-OKKkBfDTKzwFlAHqqUvWTvvfFL5Ltund4vzzWZSOnanWIThxNOaJ-jPvHVCCcNPHJOoVU7l1cvgcv-QoM2-L6TGlr_hSGebXRu9fIKkBnqVVm6vZMXCPYIA/s1080/FAIL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpiJ6AiwidtoCc6-OKKkBfDTKzwFlAHqqUvWTvvfFL5Ltund4vzzWZSOnanWIThxNOaJ-jPvHVCCcNPHJOoVU7l1cvgcv-QoM2-L6TGlr_hSGebXRu9fIKkBnqVVm6vZMXCPYIA/s320/FAIL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I started out strong. I even decided to have some fun with it and create a dedicated <a href="https://www.instagram.com/eclectic__reader/" target="_blank">Instagram account </a> to help catalog my reading adventures. That didn't last beyond April 2021. Considering what was going on in my life then, this is no surprise. </p><p>So...here's hoping next year's challenge goes much better. </p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-3197206056407875472021-11-10T11:57:00.002-05:002023-03-24T16:11:31.050-04:00Coping<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN25iIsryW2AzvSM5KKEyScN-YxlraBt7Q3E6QauD1UaXpfZxg6ZFd8JVisB_DXKC8iGkFjYk2o2ZJbNGcSg_nF6Gt7bdYc16bcz36j0gQ0dufoTdYLU4ZRPhThK4DyxJvT9sgXg/s1280/Snapchat-1939584662.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="610" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN25iIsryW2AzvSM5KKEyScN-YxlraBt7Q3E6QauD1UaXpfZxg6ZFd8JVisB_DXKC8iGkFjYk2o2ZJbNGcSg_nF6Gt7bdYc16bcz36j0gQ0dufoTdYLU4ZRPhThK4DyxJvT9sgXg/w96-h200/Snapchat-1939584662.jpg" width="96" /></a></div>I shared <a href="https://www.facebook.com/griefspeaks/photos/a.10153420996695434/10166195582325434/" target="_blank">a post on Facebook</a> yesterday about how different people express and process their grief. It resonated because I recognized not only myself in it but those grieving around me. All of us are struggling in our own way. My boys seem to find some solace in the distraction video games provide but they are burdened with bouts of sadness and anger, too. A good friend of ours has decided to remodel his entire house. Others have made it their mission to take care of me and the boys as much as we will allow it. <p></p><p>I welcome the distractions my friends and family provide. The things we do and the places we go bring much-needed smiles and laughter. They give me something to focus on other than the empty recliner in the living room or Ken's clothes hanging in our bedroom closet. </p><p>In the months since Ken has been gone, I've done so much. It wasn't always easy but I'm glad I pushed myself to say yes even when I really wanted to say no. Saying yes kept me connected to the people most important to me and my boys. Saying yes has kept me sane. </p><p><i>It would be easy, too easy, to sit home and do nothing. To go into seclusion. To disconnect. To submit to sadness.</i></p><p>Not that I don't have my moments when the loss hits me like a sledgehammer. It most certainly does. The truth is, though, I cry mostly when I'm alone. Sometimes, I'll be in bed, snuggled up with my dog. Other times, I'm watching tv by myself or I'm driving alone. Tears aren't the only physical expression of my heartache, either. On a few occasions, I've screamed into my pillow. Heck, I've even talked myself out of panic attacks, assuring myself the tightening in my chest and the difficulty in breathing is an emotional response and not a heart attack in the making. </p><p>I've gone into therapy. </p><p>I've taken up journaling. </p><p>I've also indulged in some retail therapy, which is probably less healthy. But you should see my bookshelves! Also, who doesn't need new clothes every now and again? And shopping for others serves a purpose when you (mostly) save the gifts for Christmas. </p><p>I know my grieving journey has just begun. I am well aware that darker days, weeks, or even months may be ahead of me. There are, after all, many things I can't yet bring myself to do. The idea of cleaning out his dresser, the closet, even his bathroom drawers, is too much right now. Figuring out how to include him in the upcoming holidays is a puzzle I still don't think I've fully solved.<br /><br />Each day brings a new challenge. Each day, I do my best to cope. </p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-57675850235270068162021-10-28T13:55:00.004-04:002021-10-28T13:55:40.259-04:00What Happened?<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8aZ3vsDl0nLpCD6nKmXgU4dnAPiW_8IJTAVzNMNVpFqywLqI9VL4qVA0f6OYxbAUR-WWyWSIW41uX2mVu4Ej1LeUW_RR87ot3va_-vtmE7TKoICCZ04SQE7TH9PwoI177PGNxQ/s2048/PXL_20210316_221339415.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8aZ3vsDl0nLpCD6nKmXgU4dnAPiW_8IJTAVzNMNVpFqywLqI9VL4qVA0f6OYxbAUR-WWyWSIW41uX2mVu4Ej1LeUW_RR87ot3va_-vtmE7TKoICCZ04SQE7TH9PwoI177PGNxQ/s320/PXL_20210316_221339415.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>My updates here on the blog were almost non-existent during Ken's cancer diagnosis and treatment. I realized this today when I was looking back through some of my previous posts. I've only written a handful of times about what the beginning of 2021 looked like for our family. Our <a href="https://krista225.blogspot.com/2021/03/2021-is-off-to-rough-start.html" target="_blank">rough start</a> was written almost three months into Ken's journey. Then I shared a bit in early May about the <a href="https://krista225.blogspot.com/2021/05/ups-and-downs-of-pancreatic-cancer.html">ups and downs of pancreatic cancer</a>. A little over a month after that post, I put up a brief <a href="https://krista225.blogspot.com/2021/06/heartbroken.html">announcement</a> regarding Ken's passing. <br /><br />Writing about Ken's cancer here was difficult for a few reasons. First and foremost, he didn't want to plaster the news all over social media because he didn't want complete strangers reaching out. So we created a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/416709922771964" target="_blank">Facebook group </a>for our family, friends, and coworkers. It was there where he and I most often posted about things. Funny enough, the man was so well-loved, that group had over 100 members. I made my first post there on February 6, 2021, and pinned it to the top of the page for newcomers to acquaint themselves with his story. <p></p><p>In a nutshell, after several tests culminating in a PET scan, Ken had been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The cancer was in the tail end of the pancreas and had spread to his liver and lymph nodes. </p><p>My memories of the month or so it took us to get from the agony he experienced on New Years Day to a diagnosis are a bit chaotic for the most part. A few things stand out. First, I remember him walking downstairs crying when he found out about the masses on his liver and me struggling to come up with any explanation other than cancer. Then, a week later, I remember sitting in the little room at our family doctor's office, holding his hand, while the doctor read us the lab results for the bloodwork that all but guaranteed it was, in fact, cancer. Next, I recall sitting in the parking lot outside the GI specialist's office when Ken gave me the good news about the colonoscopy results, the first bit of good news we had had since the New Year. The worst memory I have is hearing about how high the pancreatic cancer marker numbers were; I cried and cried while he held me on the couch. We didn't have a confirmed diagnosis from the oncologist yet but those numbers told us all we needed to know. Sitting in the oncologist's office and listening to them discuss their findings and a plan of attack was difficult, too, but by then we had had time to ingest the probability of his diagnosis. We fully expected them to tell us is was pancreatic cancer at that time but finding out it was in the lymph nodes as well as the liver was a blow.</p><p>We had so many conversations after his diagnosis. Some had to do with what to tell our boys and how. Many, once that task was handled, focused on what life without him in it might look like for me and the kids. These discussions were so necessary. Painful but necessary. How could we not have them? No matter how well this round of chemotherapy went, we were well aware there is no cure for pancreatic cancer. Even if he could put it into remission for a few years, it would be back. His time with us would be limited. He wanted to prepare us as best he could. He wanted - no, needed - to know we could function without him. </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>He made me promise to eat more than just cereal and frozen pizza for dinner.</p><p>He showed me how to change the filter in the furnace. </p><p>He told me I'd have to leave the broken old grill on the back deck because there was no shut-off valve for the direct propane line from our tank. </p><p>He showed me how to operate the mower on the John Deere. </p></blockquote><p>Those are just a few examples of the many things we talked about and the instructions I received. I knew what he wanted me to do with a portion of the life insurance money should he pass. I've done all of them but one. The only thing left to do is to get a big dog for protection. I opted not to do that right now. Instead, I gave my son and his girlfriend permission to bring home a big dog of their own, one they will be taking with them when they eventually move out and get a place of their own.<br /><br />Those experiences and discussions were the second reason I found it so difficult to write about things as they transpired. I was overwhelmed. I was struggling to hold myself together when everything seemed to be falling apart. <br /><br />It is so damned hard to be positive in the face of a terminal disease. </p><p>It's even harder to watch someone you love suffer. No amount of care and comfort could overcome the ravages of this dreadful disease. Getting him to eat was a challenge not only because of the chemotherapy but because pancreatic cancer interferes with the body's ability to produce the necessary enzymes needed to properly break down solids and liquids. </p><p>It got a bit easier, though, to be optimistic when we were getting promising biweekly cancer marker updates. He was responding so well to chemotherapy! The <a href="https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/diagnosis-staging/diagnosis/tumor-markers-fact-sheet">cancer marker numbers</a> were dropping exponentially treatment after treatment. In the beginning, they were over 500,000. When he passed away, they were down to 350. </p><p>So what happened then? If the numbers continually dropped, why isn't he still here with us? I'm no doctor, so I can't explain what happened inside his body. I can only tell you what happened in his last few days.</p><p>He ended up with pancreatitis at the end of April 2021. He was hospitalized twice for it and sent home. During his pancreatitis flare-ups, he developed ascites, which, in really simple terms, means he had fluid on the stomach. By the time we got him down to one of the better university hospitals in our home state, he was in really bad shape. He had lost so much weight he looked skeletal. His cognitive abilities were severely impaired. In his confusion, he couldn't remember his birthday or say who the President of the United States was. He was jaundiced and incredibly bloated with fluid from the waist down. </p><p>The hospital drained some of the fluid off his stomach in hopes of alleviating his pain and had it tested for infection and cancer cells. I don't know if there were cancer cells. They never mentioned it but they did confirm there was a great deal of infection. They also told me he was at end-of-life care and advised me to set up hospice care at home for him. </p><p>I will admit I was stunned. In my naivete, I expected them to get the infection under control, get the fluid drained, and maybe put him on a feeding tube. I thought he'd be hospitalized for a week or so, and then, like the times before, I'd pick him up and bring him home. I thought this was just another temporary, if thoroughly terrifying, setback. I didn't think he was dying. </p><p>I was wrong. Within two days, he was gone and our hospice plans never came to fruition. He never made it home again. </p><p>Luckily, the boys, their girls, and our grandson got to visit Ken in the hospital before he passed. They got to talk to him and say their I-love-yous. I think there were hugs and kisses, too. I'm sure there were. </p><p>I am grateful for that fact. It was a blessing the hospital let them in despite the fact that COVID was once more on the rise. Special accommodations were made for them and I will always hold that institution in the highest regard for their compassion during those horrible days. </p><p>I'm also very thankful I was able to stay with him overnight. It was a terrible night, one that has, quite frankly, given me nightmares, but I was there for him when he needed me most. He did not die alone. I was there with him, taking care of him as best I could, until he took his last breath. I will never forget that moment or the heartbreak I felt. It is etched into my mind, heart, and soul. <br /></p><p>He was my love. I was blessed to have built a life with him and will do my best to take care of the treasures he left me. <br /><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k5tammYA0T4ay_jjrM_9a9CS4g8uu142-Umc5gKuvgIrdyhLb-sH6pGfcXvVA4QUq5QySDjRfhydJjzI9c5_P4T9bB0pCaFMCGWXvzo_VUk1ppz4ZXPBZcRW4wWzsyMwzIKWRQ/s2048/Snapchat-526711113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1107" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k5tammYA0T4ay_jjrM_9a9CS4g8uu142-Umc5gKuvgIrdyhLb-sH6pGfcXvVA4QUq5QySDjRfhydJjzI9c5_P4T9bB0pCaFMCGWXvzo_VUk1ppz4ZXPBZcRW4wWzsyMwzIKWRQ/s320/Snapchat-526711113.jpg" width="173" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEmDR2omGx-3oR36prpg-JmJSJ2Jn3S8ShdyvWZg5r2ENQh5ANNHF4Sk7qlz6cNqSDYwCEdRAkITlIMprIvInEc3eCr2EB9navZVmN9EQ2CsQfC55HKPC3tfUcTV0nrIjlGEIlQ/s1600/2021-05-22_01-51-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEmDR2omGx-3oR36prpg-JmJSJ2Jn3S8ShdyvWZg5r2ENQh5ANNHF4Sk7qlz6cNqSDYwCEdRAkITlIMprIvInEc3eCr2EB9navZVmN9EQ2CsQfC55HKPC3tfUcTV0nrIjlGEIlQ/s320/2021-05-22_01-51-28.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-64714942340180727542021-10-22T11:09:00.003-04:002021-11-10T12:04:32.720-05:00Finding My New Normal<p>It's been just a little over five months now since I lost my husband to pancreatic cancer. In some ways, it feels so much longer. It feels like an endless stretch of days without his input or guidance, his problem-solving skills, his companionship. I miss his laugh. His hugs. I miss watching television together, camping trips, and family vacations. I miss our talks about work, the kids, the grandbaby, and life in general. I miss him. I miss our life together. </p><p>Strangely, I cry less now. But it takes longer to fall asleep. </p><p>There's a part of me that feels bad that I don't cry as often or as easily as I first did. My tears seem to be held in reserve, appearing only when I stop to think about how much he is missing. The main triggers are our boys and grandson. When I stop and think about how much Ken would have loved being able to be here and take part in their lives, my control lapses. It always makes me recall those heartwrenching conversations we had in his last few months. He was heartbroken by what he would miss should the cancer win. </p><p>Weddings. <br />Graduations.<br />Birthdays. <br />Holidays.<br />New additions to the family.<br />Cheering from the sidelines.<br />Hunting trips.<br />Fishing trips. <br />Watching Riley grow up. </p><p>There are times when I'm babysitting that take my breath away and I find the tears falling without warning. Bittersweet moments for sure. For me, I feel so blessed to be able to witness our little man's growth, to feel his sticky fingers in mine, or to have his little head nestled on my shoulder while he falls asleep. For Ken, I feel only sorrow that he couldn't experience these precious moments and angry that cancer robbed him of all these opportunities. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwTOaQPeADuxLhyphenhyphenYwRdXX5GdqCHko3GqZrgUeSS_oAD0472StszZir02JeQtRMvFjMaObPn3zmvavnyzaOr2c31o8JcDPtfzxzC8xOeSu1_OZP0Y12EES_UI4tOfrE9XjKibtWA/s3648/Snapchat-706361141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="1739" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwTOaQPeADuxLhyphenhyphenYwRdXX5GdqCHko3GqZrgUeSS_oAD0472StszZir02JeQtRMvFjMaObPn3zmvavnyzaOr2c31o8JcDPtfzxzC8xOeSu1_OZP0Y12EES_UI4tOfrE9XjKibtWA/w191-h400/Snapchat-706361141.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>It's still so hard to believe any of this is real. He can't really be gone forever, can he?<div><br /></div><div>Not that I don't have plenty of examples to share that show just how real it all is. Planning his memorial, navigating the financial implications of his passing, honoring his last wishes, dealing with bats in the attic, pre-buying propane for the winter ahead, transferring titles from his name to mine, trading in our camper and buying a small class C motorhome, mowing the lawn and doing some damage to the blades when I hit a giant rock by mistake..the list goes on. <br /><br />I think he would be proud of the decisions I've made and how much I've been able to accomplish. </div><div><br /></div><div>Granted, he probably is watching from that otherworldly realm and judging my lack of culinary skills. Not that I mind my efforts, but I'm sure he would be appalled. He was such a foodie and I am not!</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, he wouldn't be happy with everything going on at home. He would be pissed about some interpersonal problems we're dealing with in the wake of his death. He'd be knocking heads together, which would likely be a lot more effective than my approach. But I am who I am and he was who he was. We never approached the kids the same way. We each had our preferred method of communication and conflict resolution. Right now, if I'm honest, I think his way would have been more effective. Instead, we muddle our way through and try to determine how we want our futures to look and feel. <br /><br />Learning to let the kids grieve in their own way has been hard. The one I thought would be angry is depressed and the one I feared would be severely depressed is angry. Grief is strange. It's such an isolating experience even when you struggle to stay connected to those most important to you. The source of our grief is the same but our emotional and mental states are so different. We are grieving in tandem but from different vantages. It makes his loss even more difficult to navigate.</div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-22629332920242235652021-08-24T14:47:00.000-04:002021-08-24T14:47:06.193-04:00Checking In <p> I'm here. I'm functioning. I'm trying my best. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-A9K_ePZTvdTPRrSfwzEZIcsG3rFeGiwjalJpCLkGoOUJl58W9GOGvitykD-9uHtSRlLEQzJ8Ln94Q28d3CJwFj2sQuA2qDKlfoYbP3X9Ta926loza5Dk2DXjCxr1khN97rzLMA/s1280/Snapchat-838732385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="610" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-A9K_ePZTvdTPRrSfwzEZIcsG3rFeGiwjalJpCLkGoOUJl58W9GOGvitykD-9uHtSRlLEQzJ8Ln94Q28d3CJwFj2sQuA2qDKlfoYbP3X9Ta926loza5Dk2DXjCxr1khN97rzLMA/w191-h400/Snapchat-838732385.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Right now...that feels like a win. </div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-54445308727602246492021-06-13T19:00:00.003-04:002021-10-29T11:02:42.723-04:00Heartbroken<p>On May 20, 2021, my husband lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. I lost the love of my life, my best friend, my person. My boys lost their father, their rock. <br /><br />We are devastated. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEH8yG6LHo514vUT-UuLuz9XaG5tCUrXkd7Z-zylkQY1f72aA-sVRM0U6BsAZQ-8APunozRgUgO7zchW1lo61d_UeATy8TnskQtCBIB46EPmqTWg8LVJhXSbO3XXIA85P2ug5_Q/s1024/2021-05-22_02-11-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1024" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEH8yG6LHo514vUT-UuLuz9XaG5tCUrXkd7Z-zylkQY1f72aA-sVRM0U6BsAZQ-8APunozRgUgO7zchW1lo61d_UeATy8TnskQtCBIB46EPmqTWg8LVJhXSbO3XXIA85P2ug5_Q/w400-h265/2021-05-22_02-11-03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-25288090793085498642021-05-04T12:12:00.005-04:002021-05-04T13:59:04.895-04:00Ups and Downs of Pancreatic Cancer<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMa__oB-3jdDPs2-idaCcJgbJ2tRd6_JC-V6Jr_JnWeupQamSaptPuh7QvnGNbNtyneUNuAaqXPB2Gy-jpAgXmP4qrXb21odbs0FHs14qi1MIOgclzo1peGAED69XllLRIQ9oCA/s4032/PXL_20210428_204400110.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMa__oB-3jdDPs2-idaCcJgbJ2tRd6_JC-V6Jr_JnWeupQamSaptPuh7QvnGNbNtyneUNuAaqXPB2Gy-jpAgXmP4qrXb21odbs0FHs14qi1MIOgclzo1peGAED69XllLRIQ9oCA/s320/PXL_20210428_204400110.jpg" /></a></div>The last time I posted it was late March. Ken was undergoing chemotherapy and managing it fairly well, even though some of the side effects were rather unpleasant. <br /><br />We soon got into the rhythm of living with cancer. We had chemo weeks and "good" weeks. During chemo weeks, Ken was often fatigued and lacking any kind of appetite. He lost weight, as we expected he would but had hoped he would not. He kept most of his hair; it thinned a bit but still has not fully fallen out. The neuropathy worsened with each chemotherapy session, even affecting his feet. <p></p><p>His good weeks were, well, good. He would go visit friends and family he felt safe around - mostly those that took COVID seriously. After all, if they were taking COVID seriously, we figured it also meant they were more likely to be protected against the common cold and flu viruses. An immune-compromised system is susceptible to so many things. Keeping him healthy was our main concern, which meant some of the more careless or COVID-defiant people made us a bit nervous. Our desire to protect him is also the reason why Ken, Gage, and I all opted for the vaccine as soon as we could get it. Of the three of us, only Ken was not able to get fully vaccinated. </p><p>Yes, there's a story there. </p><p>As I write this, Ken is at Ascension Genesys Hospital. He had first been admitted for acute pancreatitis on April 19, 2021. He spent nine days in the hospital. He came home on Wednesday, April 28th. By Sunday, May 2, 20201, he was once again readmitted. Same diagnosis, only this time it was complicated by approximately twenty pounds of water weight. From his belly down, he was so swollen. You can see the water retention in his belly if you look at the picture up above. That is not a well-fed belly, it's an uncomfortably bloated belly with fluid you could hear moving every time he would rock or sway. </p><p>When Ken is in pain, he sits on the edge of the recliner and sways from side to side or rocks to and fro. There has been so much rocking and swaying in the last month. Too much. He has been miserable for almost a month and a half now. He dealt with the pain for nearly two weeks before going to the ER the first time. During those two weeks prior to getting admitted to the hospital, we attributed his pain to the cancer, to gas and constipation, to the blood clot in the vein leading into the spleen. We never suspected pancreatitis, mostly because we hadn't heard of it and had no idea what it entailed. It is agony is what it is.</p><p>Everyone keeps asking me how I'm doing and how are the boys. Not great, people, not great. It is emotionally and mentally draining to watch someone you love suffer. Not being able to do anything to alleviate his pain, to help him get even an hour of sleep, is its own special kind of torture. We are crushed that he's in constant pain, that he has lost so much weight, that his laugh has been stolen. We want him to be better. We hope and pray for it constantly and it feels as if our heartfelt pleas and prayers are not being heard. That's how we are. </p><p>In addition to being worried about my suddenly frail husband, I worry about the boys, too. I worry about their emotional and mental health right now. I don't think either of them is doing well, but I think they're both trying to be strong for me. I know I'm a big softie who cries a lot, but I don't want them to think of that as a weakness. My tears are a release valve. They help me cope. I want them to be able to have the same freedom to cry when they need to cry. I want to hold them and tell them it's going to be alright, even if we don't know that for sure. </p><p>Right now, we cling to the silver linings. Ken is getting the help he needs at the hospital. His pain is being managed and he's finally getting some rest. He is able to eat solids right away this time. They are running tests in order to figure out a plan of attack. His cancer numbers were down to 7500 last we knew. </p><p>Silver linings. They sustain us right now.</p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-91818119595990754462021-03-22T15:17:00.002-04:002021-03-22T15:17:15.751-04:002021 Is Off to a Rough Start<p> Even with COVID still plaguing the U.S., we had a lovely Christmas and New Year's Eve. While the large family gatherings were cancelled, we still got to spend time with a small number of people during the holidays. The gathering pictured below was the most important one and I was so relieved when everything worked out and we were able to have our Christmas Eve exchange with my oldest boy and his family. I would have been devastated if we had had to miss our grandbaby's first Christmas. Luckily, we were fully recovered from COVID and everyone felt healthy. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3ZPlR-ne3nCp8_OuVjh1b0O00v5RDEZVwzDgj60dRZGuZkTVX1Mj_uOM0kmeEKgE9gYWzga4cC9lenMWz7E5GnIaFIPMKt0yKF8s9vQEStZwKKQSNXG-ay_T_kcd8t85bg-2gA/s2048/DSC_0255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3ZPlR-ne3nCp8_OuVjh1b0O00v5RDEZVwzDgj60dRZGuZkTVX1Mj_uOM0kmeEKgE9gYWzga4cC9lenMWz7E5GnIaFIPMKt0yKF8s9vQEStZwKKQSNXG-ay_T_kcd8t85bg-2gA/w400-h266/DSC_0255.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Things didn't go sideways until after the holidays. On New Year's Day, Ken woke up feeling terrible. We thought he was having a gall bladder attack. He was in so much pain I offered to take him to the Emergency Room. He refused and somehow managed to make it over to his mom and dad's for Christmas with them. <div><br /></div><div>The gallbladder attacks continued. Our doctor was on vacation and didn't return until the second week of January. Ken had a virtual appointment, describing his pain, and what he believed would trigger it. The doctor agreed. It sounded like a gallbladder issue. An ultrasound was scheduled to check for gallstones. </div><div><br /></div><div>The results of that ultrasound changed our lives. </div><div><br /></div><div>In addition to some thickening of the gallbladder walls, the ultrasound picked up a couple of masses in the liver. The doctor wanted bloodwork and a CT scan done right away. The CT scan confirmed the masses on the liver but nothing truly noteworthy in nearby organs. The bloodwork, though, told a different story. Cancer marker numbers were high for both colorectal and pancreatic cancers. This prompted a colonoscopy and a referral to an oncologist. Before we met with the oncologist, we got the colonoscopy results back; not a sign of cancer anywhere. The oncologist, while relieved by the colonoscopy results, still wanted Ken to have a liver biopsy and a PET scan done. </div><div><br /></div><div>The liver biopsy was so very painful. Ken was still dealing with a lingering COVID cough and every time he coughed, the biopsy site was aggravated. It got so bad the night after the procedure that we called for an ambulance. They assured us he was not bleeding internally, which was our fear. They were also able to help him get his breathing under control so that he didn't feel quite so desperate to get enough oxygen to keep himself from passing out. </div><div><br /></div><div>The results from the biopsy were not great. The PET scan, though, told the true story. Ken was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. On February 9th, we sat through a phone call to discuss the chemo treatments and the possible side effects. Then, on Febraury 15th, Ken started his first round of treatment. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was rough. He was so miserable that first week. It was torture for him going through it and torture for us watching him go through it and not being able to do much beyond making sure he took his meds, ate, and drank as much as his body would allow. Pancreatic cancer interferes with the pancreas's ability to produce the enzymes necessary to break down fatty foods. This means he has to be very careful when it comes to his diet. Anything above 2.5 - 3.0 grams of saturated fat gives him stomach pain. He does have some pills that mimic the missing enzymes but they haven't been failproof, sometimes giving him stomach cramps, so he tries to avoid most fatty foods.</div><div><br /></div><div>His second treatment, two weeks to the day after his first, had some new unexpected side effects. His tongue became partially paralyzed and the neuropathy in his hands worsened. Drinking room-temperature water caused his throat to spasm, resulting in a mild case of vomiting. So far, that's the only instance of vomiting he has had and it wasn't from nausea but from his esophagus freaking out. I won't lie, that was scary. </div><div><br /></div><div>He just finished his third round of chemo. He has nine more rounds to go. </div><div><br /></div><div>Possibly. </div><div><br /></div><div>We don't really know if he will require all six months worth of treatment because after his second treatment we got some good news. His pancreatic cancer marker numbers have already dropped from 500,000 to right around 100,000. The chemo is working! Knowing that the chemo is working to shrink the tumors is such a blessing. It makes the misery more bearable for him and for us. We know we still have a long way to go before he's into remission. Yet, knowing the numbers are dropping, we feel as if remission is a real possibility. In the beginning, we weren't so sure. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I write this, he's just finished up his third chemo treatment. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-82076080026437655292021-01-07T17:12:00.001-05:002021-01-07T17:12:05.485-05:00Our COVID Experience<p> I have an admission. Back in November 2020, our little household tested positive for COVID-19.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTDZIx31znAM7B0WUfgidw70ORIwAFJ8W7qdrEpwixmjPxYxkj2TR9jKcCyzkgICGWsVEAQ0FyN4Uvyvwe5eM7N_5xXt3GLHVfxf6pZ0J2NZ3C7SF47bMofXYQbYceq5L5ZirkA/s1080/My+Post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTDZIx31znAM7B0WUfgidw70ORIwAFJ8W7qdrEpwixmjPxYxkj2TR9jKcCyzkgICGWsVEAQ0FyN4Uvyvwe5eM7N_5xXt3GLHVfxf6pZ0J2NZ3C7SF47bMofXYQbYceq5L5ZirkA/s320/My+Post.jpg" /></a></div><p>While we were definitely not the only people in America to test positive for it, it still feels shameful to admit we had it. This may be because I figure if we had just stayed home for the holidays, we likely would have avoided contracting the illness. We're not 100% certain where we got it and it really doesn't matter. No one in our circle of friends and family would knowingly and willingly expose anyone else. Also, I did go shopping. Maybe it was from being in stores that were fairly busy hours earlier...<br /><br />Where we got it from really doesn't matter now, a month and a half later. But you might be curious to know how it went because it seems COVID affects everyone differently. </p><p>Here's what I can tell you about our experience. We were lucky. I feel very blessed because our experience was one of mild inconvenience. Ken and I both ran slight fevers for about twelve to twenty-four hours. I had full body aches for only a day but then had to contend with a persistent backache for about two weeks. Near the end of my bout with COVID, I had some painful headaches that caused my neck to knot up. I had some phlegm and light coughing during the two weeks I felt less than stellar. Ken ended up with a post-COVID cough he still hasn't managed to kick.<br /><br />Gage had no symptoms that we are aware of because the kid is always coughing up phlegm thanks to year-round allergies. <br /><br />Hallie, Gage's girlfriend, had a few minor symptoms but she seemed to kick it fairly quickly. </p><p>We found out much later that some of the people we had seen on Thanksgiving day also got sick. Like us, they had very mild cases. </p><p>Luckily, KC, Allie, and baby Riley never developed any symptoms. We hadn't seen them Thanksgiving day and, apparently, when we did see them the next night, we weren't yet carrying a high viral load. Like I said, we were blessed. I would have been devastated had Riley gotten sick because of us. For two weeks, I obsessively worried about their little family developing symptoms. My prayers were almost manic. </p><p><i>I am coming to realize I may have a slight catastrophizing anxiety disorder. That's a thing, right? I'm sure it must be. </i></p><p>Post-COVID quarantine testing came back negative, which was a relief. I like Thanksgiving, but I love Christmas. Not getting to see my new grandbaby on his first Christmas would have been heartbreaking. Luckily we were good to go and sporting some antibodies. (You have to wonder where herd immunity is at now that so many people have gotten sick over the last nine months..). We celebrated Christmas and New Year, but we tried to keep our gatherings small and safe. We canceled Christmas with my brothers, sisters, and their families; we're still considering an outside bonfire in the snow. We didn't travel up north to see my mom or step-dad and their houseful of kids and grandkids. Instead, we invited my dad over on Christmas Eve so he could see his first great-grandchild's first Christmas at our house. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UQxvBUHu2uGvcWIMeIsAHGsUcRsHP0DOXjhrY0F1sTCfC7y1HCbHBVysNXc3xDzqTMECr8o5tLLgx25wFI01sqvfB3W0RcRLLsDoKKYOgJQ_Z5XdQuLlQyFKocFi2jdA1gEvvg/s2048/DSC_0254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UQxvBUHu2uGvcWIMeIsAHGsUcRsHP0DOXjhrY0F1sTCfC7y1HCbHBVysNXc3xDzqTMECr8o5tLLgx25wFI01sqvfB3W0RcRLLsDoKKYOgJQ_Z5XdQuLlQyFKocFi2jdA1gEvvg/s320/DSC_0254.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We spent Christmas night with people who had already had COVID and recovered. Then, on New Year's Eve, we spent even more time with COVID-recovered patients. Seriously, looking back on our New Year's Eve, there were only two people in the house who hadn't contracted COVID at some point in the fall. <br /><br />New Year's Day we spent with Ken's mom and dad. Again, they were the only non-COVID recovered people in the house. Everyone else had had it and recovered already. Not that I'm not concerned about them. I am. Tomorrow will be one week since we've seen them. So far, they're fine. I'll feel better, though, when it's been a full two weeks. </p><p>With the holidays over, I think our exposure to people will go right back down to nothing. We're still working from home and Gage is still laid off. Our only routine visitor is Gage's girlfriend, Hallie. We see KC, Allie, and the baby from time to time. They don't need a sitter like they did when both KC and Allie were working, so even my babysitting has been limited. When Allie got laid off, babysitting requests died right down. (This makes me sad because I love babysitting!)</p><p>So, we are recovered. Now I just pray we don't develop any of those ominous post-COVID ailments that plague some people.</p>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3469657.post-65982927985236666452021-01-04T21:21:00.025-05:002021-04-16T17:03:52.700-04:002021 Reading Challenge<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2W6LXtnBa7_D9D59aej4se7Mz4VH3CLZ7xSePDLRH2IE74YkEXRLRS8FB_Jc3xm6guG44xmxRDTd-W-Wb_GrWmcLIs84SfE-BSgd51BFyH_qvOPOMznXs_x16MHQ3Njs5kDpIJg/s1080/My+Post.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2W6LXtnBa7_D9D59aej4se7Mz4VH3CLZ7xSePDLRH2IE74YkEXRLRS8FB_Jc3xm6guG44xmxRDTd-W-Wb_GrWmcLIs84SfE-BSgd51BFyH_qvOPOMznXs_x16MHQ3Njs5kDpIJg/s320/My+Post.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>This year I aim to complete the <a href="https://www.popsugar.com/entertainment/photo-gallery/47892177/image/48009051/2021-POPSUGAR-Reading-Challenge" target="_blank">PopSugar Reading Challenge</a>. <br /><br /><br />I intend to use a mix of ebooks, hardcovers, and paperbacks to complete this challenge. I'm not assigning anything in advance. I'm going to let my mood choose as I go. However, I am going to do my best to read books I already own and haven't yet read. Wish me luck! <br /><br /><p></p><br /><div class="title-wrap" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #2f3846; font-family: Texta, AvenirNext-Regular, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin-top: 15px;"><h2 id="slide-title" style="box-sizing: inherit; display: inline-block; font-family: "PS Savoy", Lora, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20px; margin: 0px; padding-left: 25px;">2021 POPSUGAR Reading Challenge</h2></div><div class="body-wrap" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #2f3846; font-family: Texta, AvenirNext-Regular, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"><div class="slide-body" id="slide-body" style="box-sizing: inherit; font-family: "PS Savoy", Lora, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 20px 25px;"><ol style="text-align: left;"><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that's published in 2021</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">An Afrofuturist book</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that has a heart, diamond, club, or spade on the cover</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book by an author who shares your zodiac sign</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A dark academia book</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book with a gem, mineral, or rock in the title</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book where the main character works at your current or dream job</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that has won the Women's Prize For Fiction</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book with a family tree</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A bestseller from the 1990s</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book about forgetting</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book you have seen on someone's bookshelf (in real life, on a Zoom call, in a TV show, etc.)</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A locked-room mystery</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book set in a restaurant</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book with a black-and-white cover</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book by an Indigenous author</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that has the same title as a song</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book about a subject you are passionate about</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that discusses body positivity</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book found on a Black Lives Matter reading list</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A genre hybrid</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book set mostly or entirely outdoors</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book with something broken on the cover</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book by a Muslim American author</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that was published anonymously</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book with an oxymoron in the title</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book about do-overs or fresh starts</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A magical realism book</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book set in multiple countries</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book set somewhere you'd like to visit in 2021</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book by a blogger, vlogger, YouTube video creator, or other online personality</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book whose title starts with "Q," "X," or "Z"</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book featuring three generations (grandparent, parent, child)</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book about a social justice issue</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book in a different format than what you normally read (audiobooks, ebooks, graphic novels)</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book that has fewer than 1,000 reviews on Amazon or Goodreads</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book you think your best friend would like</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book about art or an artist</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book everyone seems to have read but you</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">Your favorite prompt from a past POPSUGAR Reading Challenge</li></ol><h2 style="box-sizing: inherit;">Advanced</h2><ol style="text-align: left;"><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">The longest book (by pages) on your TBR list</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">The shortest book (by pages) on your TBR list</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">The book on your TBR list with the prettiest cover</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">The book on your TBR list with the ugliest cover</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">The book that's been on your TBR list for the longest amount of time</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book from your TBR list you meant to read last year but didn't</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book from your TBR list you associate with a favorite person, place, or thing</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A book from your TBR list chosen at random</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A DNF book from your TBR list</li><li style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 10px;">A free book from your TBR list (gifted, borrowed, library)</li></ol></div></div>Krista Heiserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954380095591232526noreply@blogger.com0