<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223</id><updated>2011-07-31T03:00:01.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenn's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-2841966182329324446</id><published>2009-08-15T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:32:47.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day in the City</title><content type='html'>Stanford is forcing people to us their vacation. It is a cost savings measure for the University, but it has also been a wonderful excuse to take an extra day off here and there during the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David and I went to the city to see the Ansel Adams Georgia OKeeffe exhibit and SFMOMA. What a perfect day! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took BART into the city and stopped at Peets. They had decorated the coffee house with an 80's theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The museum exhibits were fantastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenn_stringer/sets/72157622034541720/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-2841966182329324446?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2841966182329324446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2841966182329324446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-in-city.html' title='A Day in the City'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-9146102995014246521</id><published>2009-07-30T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T16:31:25.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and now Funerals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnIomdCrf9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/TzUjA_vIk7k/s1600-h/IMG_3904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnIomdCrf9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/TzUjA_vIk7k/s200/IMG_3904.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364394747247689682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from the hardest funeral I have ever attended. One of the young men who grew up in our neighborhood, went to school and played sports with my children, was killed in a firefighting training accident last week. There has been plenty of &lt;a href="http://tinyurl.com/n6alcd"&gt;publicity&lt;/a&gt; about the tragedy and that isn't what I want to dwell on here. Anytime someone so young dies there just aren't words to describe the pain and fear that ripple through one's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what was amazing was the sense of community in the church today. The young men and women firefighters - hundreds of them - who came to honor him. The teachers and parents and coaches who came to support the family and each other through this moment in time. And not to get to "preachy" because I hate that -- but the priest's reminder of the promise of a life beyond this one. In whatever form it takes. &lt;br /&gt;-- Amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-9146102995014246521?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/9146102995014246521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/9146102995014246521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-now-funerals.html' title='and now Funerals'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnIomdCrf9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/TzUjA_vIk7k/s72-c/IMG_3904.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-8805020627466748586</id><published>2009-07-27T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T07:41:44.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...and Anniversaries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-h1U0RYBI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8CUkif4X6pQ/s1600-h/JennDaveWedding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-h1U0RYBI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8CUkif4X6pQ/s200/JennDaveWedding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363683618714640402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the wedding on Saturday Dave and I headed up the coast to my Mom's place at Sea Ranch. We spent the evening celebrating our own 20 year anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I could use this space for my diatribe on the institution of marriage and its purpose in society, but I'm not going to. Not because I don't have a lot to say, because "I do", but because Dave and I had too good a time to spoil it with my own ramblings. We actually enjoyed the drive through traffic together, we made each other laugh, we got up to Sea Ranch and had a wonderful dinner of tuna sandwiches, salt and vinegar potato chips, and beer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coast was fog filled, but we saw plenty of deer, jack rabbits, and had a lovely visit from a fox that frequents her yard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-OTN9BySI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vtZ1pBIEl5A/s1600-h/IMG_3903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-OTN9BySI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vtZ1pBIEl5A/s200/IMG_3903.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363662142035839266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-OPHgzJjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/kdtNO79uEyM/s1600-h/IMG_3897.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-OPHgzJjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/kdtNO79uEyM/s200/IMG_3897.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363662071587350066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-8805020627466748586?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/8805020627466748586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/8805020627466748586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-anniversaries.html' title='...and Anniversaries'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-h1U0RYBI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8CUkif4X6pQ/s72-c/JennDaveWedding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-5663913081412324484</id><published>2009-07-26T09:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T19:16:05.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-f98NHL-I/AAAAAAAAAIk/QAy0WLMCj18/s1600-h/IMG_3863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-f98NHL-I/AAAAAAAAAIk/QAy0WLMCj18/s200/IMG_3863.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363681567703511010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a wedding this weekend. Brian and Julie's wedding. It was wonderfully affirming. I've been growing rather cynical about life-long commitment lately. You know how sometimes you look at two people and think to yourself "I give it 3-5 years - tops." What you NEVER think that way... well I do... &lt;sigh&gt; all the time. I suppose it is my age and my stage in life and definitely a topic for another post, but in any event, that wasn't at all what I thought at this wedding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought to myself "Yes! These are two people who are meant to be together!" They are meant to raise children, take care of aging parents, and most importantly to take care of each other. After spending Saturday watching them commit to each other before God and friends, I just might start believing again in the idea that marriage continues to have a place in our in society after all. Gee, I am actually tearing up as I write, but only for "a Hallmark moment"(sniff). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Oh, you want to get onto the important stuff.... dresses and food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie looked amazingly lovely. The ceremony was more religious than I anticipated. The best part was when Brian spoke his own vows through tears and then through laughter had written "Julie's vows for her". The second best part was when Brian had the ring bearer bring up a camera so that he could take a picture of the two of them right after they were pronounce "man and wife".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm9vmzMYH_I/AAAAAAAAAHs/rPcJ_bZAQ_w/s1600-h/IMG_3864.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm9vmzMYH_I/AAAAAAAAAHs/rPcJ_bZAQ_w/s400/IMG_3864.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363628393589383154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My full set of pictures is &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenn_stringer/sets/72157621720342685/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was at the &lt;a href="http://www.madronamanor.com/"&gt;Madrona Manor&lt;/a&gt; in Healdsburg. The food was amazing! As was the free flowing wine and champagne. I didn't take any pictures of the food (I should have sorry!) but here is the menu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appetizers&lt;br /&gt;    * Tomato and Basil Bruschetta&lt;br /&gt;    * Seasonal Fruit Wrapped in Parma Prosciutto&lt;br /&gt;    * Full bar, Dry Creek Sauvignon Blanc, Rodney Strong Pinot Noir, Roederer Estate Sparkling White&lt;br /&gt;3-course lunch&lt;br /&gt;    * Mixed Green Salad - Everett Ridge Sauvignon Blanc&lt;br /&gt;    * Chilled Lobster with melon gazpacho - Ferrari Carano Chardonnay&lt;br /&gt;    * Main Course:&lt;br /&gt;          o Local Petrale Sole - Dutton Estate Pinot Noir&lt;br /&gt;          o Grilled Prime Striploin - Seghesio Zinfandel&lt;br /&gt;          o Potato Gnocchi - Dutton Estate Pinot or Ferrari Carano Chardonnay&lt;br /&gt;Cake&lt;br /&gt;    * Full bar, Pedro Ximenez Alvear 1927 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave and I stayed at a B&amp;B called the &lt;a href="http://www.camelliainn.com/"&gt;Camellia Inn&lt;/a&gt; right in Healdsburg so we could walk to the "rehearsal dinner" -- another word for party. That party was at the &lt;a href="http://www.bearrepublic.com/"&gt;Bear Republic Brewery&lt;/a&gt;. I liked the Red Rocket Ale the best and Dave liked the Racer 5 Pale Ale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of our room at the B&amp;B. Nice, huh? I didn't take pictures of the whirlpool tub, but it fit two perfectly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-NJe0nsyI/AAAAAAAAAH8/UNEu2q-gGNQ/s1600-h/IMG_3815.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-NJe0nsyI/AAAAAAAAAH8/UNEu2q-gGNQ/s200/IMG_3815.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363660875253658402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-NFATPaVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J2_5jPPwyPg/s1600-h/IMG_3814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-NFATPaVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J2_5jPPwyPg/s200/IMG_3814.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363660798341114194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-5663913081412324484?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5663913081412324484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5663913081412324484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/07/weddings-and-anniversaries.html' title='Weddings ...'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm-f98NHL-I/AAAAAAAAAIk/QAy0WLMCj18/s72-c/IMG_3863.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-5042559891213278604</id><published>2009-07-18T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T16:15:20.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids and Adults</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnXMIGjRtPI/AAAAAAAAAKk/5dvHNIl_5J8/s1600-h/1023064843_637a512bfb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnXMIGjRtPI/AAAAAAAAAKk/5dvHNIl_5J8/s200/1023064843_637a512bfb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365418970651407602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Kara came to visit she said something to me that I have been thinking about. She told me that when she was younger and attending my father's church that "I treated and spoke to her like she was an adult" and she appreciated that. She was an incredibly mature young woman and I liked her spirit even when she was little, but I though about that comment. Maybe that is why, although I love my children tremendously, I much preferred them as they got older. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never one for babies or even little kids... don't get me wrong.... I love to smell their heads and nursing both of my girls was an amazing bonding experience. As they got older I liked to make them laugh, read to them and tell them stories, but I really began to enjoy them when they became people with opinions different from mine. When we could discuss adult things... like politics, love, and sex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my mother was much the same way. I remember that Mrs. Cooper, from church, once told her that she treated me too much like and adult and because of that I spoke to adults like an equal. Obviously she didn't appreciate that. Haha! It seems so funny now, but back then children were to be "seen and not heard." Yes, my I remember that my Grandfather would tell us that at the dinner table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that things are changing and that most children are being raised to speak their minds, but even as parents do that they also seem to be protecting their children so much more than before. Just an interesting juxtaposition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-5042559891213278604?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5042559891213278604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5042559891213278604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/07/kids-and-adults.html' title='Kids and Adults'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnXMIGjRtPI/AAAAAAAAAKk/5dvHNIl_5J8/s72-c/1023064843_637a512bfb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-2339154279214976050</id><published>2009-07-06T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T21:31:38.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzXuMLXQI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lL6aPt8E0pw/s1600-h/ntheriver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzXuMLXQI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lL6aPt8E0pw/s320/ntheriver.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364476957524974850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafting down the Truckee River on the 4th of July has become a tradition in our family. We have our rafts, take our dog, and have a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have it down to science. Drop one car off at the bottom of the river. Pack everyone in the other car. Go up to the launch area, put on the sunblock, blow up the rafts, and away we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, like last, we were joined by my brother and my sister-in-law Marcy and nephew Jordan. We had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzhN6M1SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/1Bp3rP2OUfk/s1600-h/Dave_Marcy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzhN6M1SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/1Bp3rP2OUfk/s320/Dave_Marcy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364477120658330914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzL_prbZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/FOqxqFeQJrg/s1600-h/Jenn_Jon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzL_prbZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/FOqxqFeQJrg/s200/Jenn_Jon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364476756053683602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-2339154279214976050?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2339154279214976050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2339154279214976050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/07/4th-of-july.html' title='4th of July'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnJzXuMLXQI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lL6aPt8E0pw/s72-c/ntheriver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-3355361680281603677</id><published>2009-06-29T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T15:58:38.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mammoth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTFqcPYA4I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zbOAp2l4Oxk/s1600-h/IMG_3734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTFqcPYA4I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zbOAp2l4Oxk/s320/IMG_3734.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365130389030962050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Mammoth the scatter Nana's ashes. It was a family affair. We rented a condo with Cath (Dave's sister). We headed though Yosemite and over Tioga pass. We got there Friday evening and just hung out with everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people who aren't from CA haven't even heard of Mammoth or they only know it as a ski resort. But, Mammoth is a beautiful area to hike and fish in during the summer. In fact David and I spent our &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=honeymoon&amp;w=61485287%40N00"&gt;honeymoon&lt;/a&gt; almost 20 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we headed up to Twin Lakes and rented boats. We had a great time rowing around and the waterfall was lovely. After we hiked up to the old mines below Hart Lake. Most of us made it all the way to the top!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTF5OjNWyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5fS0hRE6GQw/s1600-h/IMG_3766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTF5OjNWyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5fS0hRE6GQw/s320/IMG_3766.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365130643054091042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTGeWYH9kI/AAAAAAAAAKE/BLZ7IJwXoRU/s1600-h/IMG_3751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTGeWYH9kI/AAAAAAAAAKE/BLZ7IJwXoRU/s320/IMG_3751.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365131280810243650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTHqBAa5TI/AAAAAAAAAKc/8c31r3Yc0xY/s1600-h/4899_1124876894204_1595602530_324062_3445093_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTHqBAa5TI/AAAAAAAAAKc/8c31r3Yc0xY/s200/4899_1124876894204_1595602530_324062_3445093_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365132580743734578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally, at 3:30 we all met at Horseshoe Lake to walk back to the place where Pop had his pack station. Coralie (Nana) spent her summers up here as a child with no running water other than a stream near by. It was the perfect place to put her to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then back for a family picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTG-5S3ieI/AAAAAAAAAKM/D3Xr7QF6xgs/s1600-h/IMG_2155RA(small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTG-5S3ieI/AAAAAAAAAKM/D3Xr7QF6xgs/s320/IMG_2155RA(small).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365131839939250658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenn_stringer/sets/72157620695446518/"&gt;picture&lt;/a&gt; set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-3355361680281603677?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/3355361680281603677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/3355361680281603677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/06/mammoth.html' title='Mammoth'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnTFqcPYA4I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zbOAp2l4Oxk/s72-c/IMG_3734.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-6872115861663783215</id><published>2009-06-26T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T19:05:35.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kara, Audrey, and Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBwf-uaXyI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HVPTYPwLIhY/s1600-h/IMG_3723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBwf-uaXyI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HVPTYPwLIhY/s200/IMG_3723.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363910850914180898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that you have those friends that you don't see very often, but when you do you always seem to connect in a big way. Well, that is the was it is with Kara. She is truly one of my favorite people. I think it is her spirit and, of course, her wonderful bawdy laugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara lives in the Netherlands and so we don't see her very often, but she came to visit this June and she brought Audrey, her wife. We had heard all about Audrey on Kara's last visit and were anxious to meet her. In two words "LOVED HER." We had a family dinner at my mother's. It was truly like family. Audrey fit right in. We had a wonderful time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wished they lived closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBxWWVCSKI/AAAAAAAAAJE/tZizMrgYOLg/s1600-h/IMG_3730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBxWWVCSKI/AAAAAAAAAJE/tZizMrgYOLg/s320/IMG_3730.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363911784963131554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBxRFr8RHI/AAAAAAAAAI8/b3DX2oeM3i8/s1600-h/IMG_3729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBxRFr8RHI/AAAAAAAAAI8/b3DX2oeM3i8/s320/IMG_3729.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363911694596457586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-6872115861663783215?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6872115861663783215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6872115861663783215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/06/kara-audrey-and-us.html' title='Kara, Audrey, and Us'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SnBwf-uaXyI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HVPTYPwLIhY/s72-c/IMG_3723.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-1447809880775340787</id><published>2009-06-22T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T08:27:51.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook and Friends</title><content type='html'>Facebook is a wonderful thing. I know that people make fun of getting back in touch with high school friends that they never wanted to see again, but not me! I love the fact that I have been back in touch with people that were out of my life for years. I revel in their posts and pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I spent time with one of those people and her family. Jenna and I met at Area E Alternative School (later renamed Mid-City) in Los Angeles when I was in 5th grade.  Perhaps we drawn to each other because we had the same skinny, gangly, awkwardness that young girls hope to forget in their later years. Whatever it was, we enjoyed sleep-overs and and playing in "the pit" and lamenting the fact that our younger siblings were difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm3Dt_xbcVI/AAAAAAAAAHk/WDTLmmJyqyI/s1600-h/JennaJenn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm3Dt_xbcVI/AAAAAAAAAHk/WDTLmmJyqyI/s320/JennaJenn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363157926248411474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Jenna sitting with my elbow on her head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today we connected again as adults. As adults with husbands and children and aging parents. With lots to talk about and memories to share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was wonderful to reconnect. Thank you Facebook!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SmvLmKb0FgI/AAAAAAAAAHc/ObFPc37vc4Q/s1600-h/IMG_3688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SmvLmKb0FgI/AAAAAAAAAHc/ObFPc37vc4Q/s320/IMG_3688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362603637811189250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Jenna and Jenn at Lake Tahoe on a short hike with her family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-1447809880775340787?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1447809880775340787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1447809880775340787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/06/facebook-and-friends.html' title='Facebook and Friends'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sm3Dt_xbcVI/AAAAAAAAAHk/WDTLmmJyqyI/s72-c/JennaJenn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-1274249295475465206</id><published>2009-05-23T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T18:12:05.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Memorial Day at the Lake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnQ29Mv2ZI/AAAAAAAAAHE/PqPDrv9Kjn8/s1600-h/3558071915_425c87c2fe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnQ29Mv2ZI/AAAAAAAAAHE/PqPDrv9Kjn8/s320/3558071915_425c87c2fe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339528475783977362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule number one when you want to spend a day at Lake Tahoe in your own private cove. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Get there early!&lt;/span&gt; Dave and I pack up in the morning....Well OK, Dave packs up early in the morning. It takes me 30 minutes to drink my coffee and put on my sunblock - a must before you hit the beach and sun at 6,000+ feet. Dave makes sandwiches and packs our day packs, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive at the lake before 9am. It takes a good 30-40 minutes to hike down from the road to the lake and find the perfect spot. The water is low this year meaning more sandy spots, but bad for the CA water supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing the amount of stuff that you can pack down in two day packs: sun tent, umbrella, one blanket, two towels, lunch, water, reading material, iPods, camera, binoculars.... well you get the picture.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnPUVf6O2I/AAAAAAAAAG0/cSxmyBqphOs/s1600-h/umbrellabeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnPUVf6O2I/AAAAAAAAAG0/cSxmyBqphOs/s400/umbrellabeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339526781499751266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing better than relaxing with nothing else to do except read, lay in the sun, and catch up on my &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/rundowns/rundown.php?prgId=13"&gt;Fresh Air&lt;/a&gt; podcasts.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnU3ovnXCI/AAAAAAAAAHM/XkjllziMUVY/s1600-h/jennread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 193px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnU3ovnXCI/AAAAAAAAAHM/XkjllziMUVY/s200/jennread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339532885519457314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was picture perfect. Sunny and in the low 70's. Blue sky and puffy white clouds. It was surprisingly empty on both Friday and Saturday. All of the hotels in King's Beach had vacancy signs. The economy is hurting tourism in the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were lucky enough to see a mother with her ducklings and a family of geese with their goslings when we were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnMgxZsCdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/3s6DSvq7SKo/s1600-h/IMG_6724crsm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnMgxZsCdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/3s6DSvq7SKo/s400/IMG_6724crsm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339523696613394898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnQSl-W3AI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ngcdskxLgBw/s1600-h/geese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnQSl-W3AI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ngcdskxLgBw/s400/geese.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339527851074313218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of Dave's &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/33797223@N08/sets/72157618745916000/"&gt;pictures&lt;/a&gt; from our day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-1274249295475465206?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1274249295475465206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1274249295475465206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/05/early-memorial-day-at-lake.html' title='Early Memorial Day at the Lake'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShnQ29Mv2ZI/AAAAAAAAAHE/PqPDrv9Kjn8/s72-c/3558071915_425c87c2fe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-3210756222181956868</id><published>2009-05-19T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:12:19.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma's 100th Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjIa2yx69I/AAAAAAAAAF8/iRy-mg3RV14/s1600-h/3536979707_d44562918b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjIa2yx69I/AAAAAAAAAF8/iRy-mg3RV14/s200/3536979707_d44562918b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339237721958378450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandmother just turned 100! We celebrated in style at my Aunt's house where my grandmother lives. Currently there are 5 generations in one household. My Grandmother, my Aunt, her daughter - Becky, two of Becky's children (Fawn and Cheyenne), and Fawn's two children. Don't worry, the house is big enough to hold them all and my uncle is an extremely wonderful man! Although my Aunt Ilene gets the award in my book for patience and acceptance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjIuZZg08I/AAAAAAAAAGE/zDNoChNJhvA/s1600-h/3537774492_c2305b921c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjIuZZg08I/AAAAAAAAAGE/zDNoChNJhvA/s200/3537774492_c2305b921c.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339238057665156034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandmother gets around with her walker and is still completely alert and talkative. The only problem is her hearing. It could be better, but she refused to purchase new hearing aids when she was about 90. She didn't think it was worth the investment... ha! She occasionally doesn't feel well and demands to be taken to the hospital. The last time this happened was the day before her party. She woke up and told Ilene that she wanted them to call an ambulance. When Ilene told her that everyone was coming for her birthday party the next day she responded, "Oh, well then, I guess I feel alright after all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjI-oXeYQI/AAAAAAAAAGM/NT-QD7tV4-c/s1600-h/3536959727_501ac85d42.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjI-oXeYQI/AAAAAAAAAGM/NT-QD7tV4-c/s200/3536959727_501ac85d42.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339238336561045762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what day in May do celebrate this auspicious occasion? Well, we aren't exactly sure what day. My Grandmother has always celebrated her birthday on May 19th. Social Security has her birthday down as May 16th. My Aunt had been going through old papers a few days before and found my Grandmother's birth certificate. It had the date of May 21, 1909. Grandma was very upset over the birth certificate discrepancy. "My mother told me I was born on the 19th!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me....I'm not upset... I know her real birthday is the 19th. I mean wouldn't you trust a mother's word over the government's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenn_stringer/sets/72157618304667484/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-3210756222181956868?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/3210756222181956868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/3210756222181956868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/05/grandmas-100th-birthday.html' title='Grandma&apos;s 100th Birthday'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShjIa2yx69I/AAAAAAAAAF8/iRy-mg3RV14/s72-c/3536979707_d44562918b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-877684609685497279</id><published>2009-05-15T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:14:06.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's Night Out</title><content type='html'>When I was having my kids almost 20 years ago, the concept of a "mom's night out" didn't exist in my world. Now, I don't know if it existed in some other world where husbands did half the childcare and cleaned the house, but not in my world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShC3jTZeTnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/T3HVSPJZ0t8/s1600-h/DavidGirlsBeach1993.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 144px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShC3jTZeTnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/T3HVSPJZ0t8/s200/DavidGirlsBeach1993.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967375564459634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'm complaining. My husband gave me lots of breaks, but they came in the form of taking the girls for walks or keeping them entertained at the beach so I could read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as my children got older and the concepts of "play dates" and "mommy and me" became popularized I scoffed at the these overly structured parenting activities. Weren't you just supposed to throw your kids outside in the backyard on a nice day and lock the door for a few hours? That is what my mom did and since none of my peers had children when I did, I had no other role models -- at least that is my excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, about the time the notion of "play dates" hit it's peak, another idea also became popularized -- "mom's night out." This isn't a bunch of friends getting together for a good time. It is an organized structured outing. Thank god, at this point my children were well into two digits and I felt no need to participate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, last night my sister-in-law called me up she was excited "I'm going to my mom's night out! You know I told you. Your brother's watching the kids. It is over by your house. Did you want to come?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I found myself at &lt;a href="http://www.bjsbrewhouse.com/"&gt;BJ's&lt;/a&gt; one of those awful chain restaurants that have taken over suburbia and are now even moving into downtown areas to punish everyone. The table was filled with women my age (OK maybe a little younger) all of whom had had children no older than 5. Hmmmmm so the conversations went something like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some pregnant woman who looks like she will pop any moment, "Oh, We just went to pre-kindergarten day for Jamie. It was so much fun, but I hope he is emotionally ready for school." Me "Oh, I get my daughter from college in a couple of weeks. I don't know if I am emotionally ready for her to come home." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another woman with tattoos on her shoulder, "We don't know what to do about Darcy's potty mouth." Me "Yea, the potty mouth thing is tough. I don't know what to do with the morning after pill prescription that I found in my 16 year old's bedroom." I actually sort of hoped that she might have a suggestion for me, but I guess the tattoos were just for show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShJMoeU7_-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/DUMDdIeyWQ4/s1600-h/3065190106_7cab2cdf3f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShJMoeU7_-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/DUMDdIeyWQ4/s200/3065190106_7cab2cdf3f.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337412766606819298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so the conversations probably didn't really happen quite that way, if at all, and I actually did have fun, but I definitely had more fun when my sis-in-law came back to my house just the two of us for a little "wine and whine"........ We can try to organize fun and friendships, for our kids and for ourselves, but it isn't the same as finding a true friend who is there for you no matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-877684609685497279?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/877684609685497279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/877684609685497279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/05/moms-night-out.html' title='Mom&apos;s Night Out'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/ShC3jTZeTnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/T3HVSPJZ0t8/s72-c/DavidGirlsBeach1993.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-812337632345660860</id><published>2009-05-02T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:25:58.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf3PgSCNiTI/AAAAAAAAAE8/83Bhvio3-9w/s1600-h/breakfast-club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf3PgSCNiTI/AAAAAAAAAE8/83Bhvio3-9w/s200/breakfast-club.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331645687380412722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been to prom. When I was prom age I was in my anti-establishment mode and you wouldn't have caught me dead at prom.  Prom was for valley girls and cheerleaders and certainly not for me. Think "Breakfast Club" and that might paint a picture for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, now that I am 41, I have &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=prom%20shopping&amp;w=61485287%40N00"&gt;shopped&lt;/a&gt; for at least four prom dresses. We have have sent our girls off to various incarnations of this special dance every spring for the past three years. They have gone with boyfriends, friends and lovers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf40p-k7FTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/yn22OJknBXQ/s1600-h/505192727_d44fb520fd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf40p-k7FTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/yn22OJknBXQ/s200/505192727_d44fb520fd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331756904630392114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been an exciting time of anticipation and preparation. Each time they head out the door I realize that this is a letting go exercise for me. I am watching them grow up and learn how to make choices about all kinds of things both important and mundane. Choices about dresses, about dancing (to freak dance or not to freak dance), about partners, and choices about being safe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alyssa is home this morning safe and sound and sore from dancing. She has at least one more prom to go. Which means I do too. I'm actually looking forward to it, but thank god I have a year in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf413-MYmtI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-voASs-E7oQ/s1600-h/IMG_3531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf413-MYmtI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-voASs-E7oQ/s200/IMG_3531.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331758244557265618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf41V89HxjI/AAAAAAAAAFc/gdfOxT-Ps3o/s1600-h/2596183980_e09c874e0d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf41V89HxjI/AAAAAAAAAFc/gdfOxT-Ps3o/s200/2596183980_e09c874e0d.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331757660109260338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-812337632345660860?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/812337632345660860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/812337632345660860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/05/prom.html' title='Prom'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sf3PgSCNiTI/AAAAAAAAAE8/83Bhvio3-9w/s72-c/breakfast-club.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-5654785881668610017</id><published>2009-04-27T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T12:52:21.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympia: Last Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfafLTCcfMI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vIv7N3MmBJE/s1600-h/IMG_3510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfafLTCcfMI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vIv7N3MmBJE/s200/IMG_3510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329622225477467330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave and I headed out for a walk around the lake that is below the Washington State Capital Building. Yes, if you didn't know it, Olympia is the Washington State capital. The lake was pretty and after our major 2 day eating fest we needed more exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went and picked Alyssa up and said our good-byes.  These were much easier than our &lt;a href="http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2008/09/thoughts-on-sending-bethany-off-to.html"&gt;first good-byes&lt;/a&gt; over six months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfafjjlOtmI/AAAAAAAAAEU/enAiuZoTvjw/s1600-h/IMG_3516.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfafjjlOtmI/AAAAAAAAAEU/enAiuZoTvjw/s200/IMG_3516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329622642235192930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As a parent I suppose that I could have only seen the messy apartment, the nude drawings of everyone living in the house - including Mikey Badger - the clothes and dirty dishes, the boys in and out and over at all times. But, along with the mess, and I would be lying to say I ignored the mess, what I saw was my amazing child growing up with an open heart and an open home. I saw young women exploring their bodies, their lives, and their ability to make choices about all of those things. I saw that they had created a place that people wanted to be -- where people wanted to spend their time; and I was so very proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfagoIVwKsI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Tc7Q3X3YaT0/s1600-h/IMG_3344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfagoIVwKsI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Tc7Q3X3YaT0/s200/IMG_3344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329623820333492930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaiTDUClKI/AAAAAAAAAE0/vJJSUAh-Klo/s1600-h/IMG_3342.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaiTDUClKI/AAAAAAAAAE0/vJJSUAh-Klo/s200/IMG_3342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329625657230136482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sfaf7__jmsI/AAAAAAAAAEc/QoMKUZOFc3Q/s1600-h/IMG_3520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sfaf7__jmsI/AAAAAAAAAEc/QoMKUZOFc3Q/s200/IMG_3520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329623062178667202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-5654785881668610017?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5654785881668610017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/5654785881668610017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/04/olympia-last-day.html' title='Olympia: Last Day'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfafLTCcfMI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vIv7N3MmBJE/s72-c/IMG_3510.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-1820995741744954009</id><published>2009-04-26T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:20:41.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympia: Hike and more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaY3Ys8ciI/AAAAAAAAADc/Z1VVa5forvk/s1600-h/IMG_3480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaY3Ys8ciI/AAAAAAAAADc/Z1VVa5forvk/s320/IMG_3480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329615286330749474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our second day we decided to get out of town and head up to Olympic National Park. The day before we had stumbled on a great outdoor and ski store and bought a hiking guide to the area. "Whitey", a nice young blonde dreadlocked man at the store, spent time talking us through some good spots and warning us that it was the very beginning of the season so some things might not be open. Good words of advice since our first hike was closed.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We ended up at Lake Cushman and did the Big Creek Loop Trail. It was fantastic! Not too long (4.6 miles) and just the right amount of strenuous climb to make me lightly sweat (1200 ft over 1.5 miles), but not so much that I had to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great waterfalls and wildflowers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfacTYDPB2I/AAAAAAAAAD0/E4fQLNp6bmY/s1600-h/IMG_3490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfacTYDPB2I/AAAAAAAAAD0/E4fQLNp6bmY/s320/IMG_3490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329619065727027042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sfaatcjk1YI/AAAAAAAAADs/0vN5-R_0phg/s1600-h/IMG_3498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/Sfaatcjk1YI/AAAAAAAAADs/0vN5-R_0phg/s320/IMG_3498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329617314589758850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaaB1WmI2I/AAAAAAAAADk/yoTJdFdQBGI/s1600-h/IMG_3493.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaaB1WmI2I/AAAAAAAAADk/yoTJdFdQBGI/s320/IMG_3493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329616565331960674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also found trolls under one of the many bridges! Luckily we didn't "&lt;a href="http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/billygoats/index.html"&gt;trip, trap, trip trap&lt;/a&gt;" across the bridge too loudly. No one was eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfadlSSmNII/AAAAAAAAAD8/jpbr3NNTspU/s1600-h/IMG_3506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfadlSSmNII/AAAAAAAAAD8/jpbr3NNTspU/s200/IMG_3506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329620472930120834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures of the &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenn_stringer/sets/72157618739702702/"&gt;hike&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took the girls out to dinner at Darby's. The place is an Olympia icon. The waiter was the best... as was the food.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaeFXlTNMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/zP5ZscfBGDs/s1600-h/IMG_3507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaeFXlTNMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/zP5ZscfBGDs/s200/IMG_3507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329621024106558658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-1820995741744954009?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1820995741744954009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/1820995741744954009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/04/olympia-hike-and-more.html' title='Olympia: Hike and more'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaY3Ys8ciI/AAAAAAAAADc/Z1VVa5forvk/s72-c/IMG_3480.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-7907962575521451719</id><published>2009-04-25T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T22:44:34.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympia: Procession of the Species</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Since we have been showing Alyssa colleges we thought is was time to let her visit her sister who is actually living the college life. Although I was more than happy to put her cute little behind on the plane and send her up on her own, David decided that maybe she wasn't quite ready to navigate it without us.  So, I bought cheap tickets and booked a hotel room for "mom and dad" and we packed our bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It turned out that we were hitting Olympia during their "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.procession.org/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Procession&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; of the Species&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;" parade day. Bethany's roommates came down for it and we had a blast. What the heck is it? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The Procession of the Species is a joyous, spontaneous artistic pageant where community members celebrate their relationships with each other and with the natural world."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaVs3Lt08I/AAAAAAAAADM/bX-hySj_1a4/s1600-h/IMG_3385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaVs3Lt08I/AAAAAAAAADM/bX-hySj_1a4/s200/IMG_3385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329611806999434178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaWNs_6VDI/AAAAAAAAADU/VJ5FwwYL-U4/s1600-h/IMG_3404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaWNs_6VDI/AAAAAAAAADU/VJ5FwwYL-U4/s200/IMG_3404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329612371201250354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;After a beer at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fishbrewing.com/brewpub/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fish Tale Brew Pub&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, we headed out for a walk downtown. We came across the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;FireSide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Bookstore and had to stop in. Jane &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Laclergue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; is the proprietor and her charming husband was there as well. We talked about books, brothels, and earthquakes. The store is in the Olympian Hotel building. Although it is no longer a hotel, it was once the place where all of the politicians stayed and the call girls were flown in from Vegas! It was also damaged in the 2001 Olympia earthquake (6.8), but it looks great now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-7907962575521451719?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/7907962575521451719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/7907962575521451719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/04/olympia-procession-of-species_25.html' title='Olympia: Procession of the Species'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfaVs3Lt08I/AAAAAAAAADM/bX-hySj_1a4/s72-c/IMG_3385.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-2553437476604738526</id><published>2009-04-11T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:57:18.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter 2009</title><content type='html'>Easter this year was a mellow affair. Bethany didn't come home from school and since we were getting ready to head down to LA to look at colleges for Alyssa the next day, we kept things low key.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother and I felt the need to attend church. That Lutheran thing lives deep in our bones. We have been enjoying attending St. Marks in San Francisco occasionally and decided to go to their Easter celebration.  The church was packed with over 400 people by my estimation. The service was great and the music wonderful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUGhSUUjhI/AAAAAAAAAB0/yOnlcoIHJ88/s1600-h/stmarks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUGhSUUjhI/AAAAAAAAAB0/yOnlcoIHJ88/s320/stmarks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329172902985371154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Picture from St. Marks website &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://stmarks-sf.org/"&gt;http://stmarks-sf.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went back home to a wonderful dinner of ham, potato salad, asparagus, and lemon cheesecake for dessert. The food was great. I was worried that I would miss the noise and chaos of a full house during a holiday dinner, but the company of just David, Brooks, my mom, and Alyssa was actually wonderful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUJadQOGRI/AAAAAAAAACU/4ZgDUaxIv9o/s1600-h/lemoncheesecake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUJadQOGRI/AAAAAAAAACU/4ZgDUaxIv9o/s320/lemoncheesecake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329176084196759826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUJaRJsefI/AAAAAAAAACM/Z80IDfgvS9g/s1600-h/easterdinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUJaRJsefI/AAAAAAAAACM/Z80IDfgvS9g/s320/easterdinner.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329176080948165106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-2553437476604738526?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2553437476604738526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/2553437476604738526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-2009.html' title='Easter 2009'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfUGhSUUjhI/AAAAAAAAAB0/yOnlcoIHJ88/s72-c/stmarks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-6558841730107785852</id><published>2009-03-26T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:41:47.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Gettysburg</title><content type='html'>I had to go to Washington DC for work and flew into Philadelphia first. My mother had the wonderful idea that I should take a couple of days and visit an old family friend in Gettysburg. Mike Cooper-White was the Associate Pastor at &lt;a href="http://www.angelicalutheran.org/"&gt;Angelica Lutheran Church&lt;/a&gt; in Los Angeles from 1976-1981. He confirmed me in the church, put up with my anti-religion diatribes, took me on church youth trips, cleaned up my vomit (on one of those trips) and as I got older I babysat his two boys Aaron and Adam.&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfT47ltv_aI/AAAAAAAAABc/VLhsYOwjErs/s1600-h/JennDaveConfirmation1980.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfT47ltv_aI/AAAAAAAAABc/VLhsYOwjErs/s200/JennDaveConfirmation1980.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329157961706110370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This is a picture of me and David on one of those confirmation trips in the church van.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike is currently the &lt;a href="http://www.ltsg.edu/db/index.htm?dir=people&amp;amp;page=directory&amp;amp;dirid=57"&gt;President&lt;/a&gt; of &lt;a href="http://www.ltsg.edu/"&gt;Gettysburg Theological Seminary&lt;/a&gt;. Which seems to be a pretty good gig. He lives in the President's House on campus. The house way too big for one man living solo for most of the time even if he does do his "presidential" entertaining there. His wife is an Episcopal Priest and is a faculty member at Columbia Theological Seminary in &lt;span class="title_main"&gt;Decatur, GA. So, they do the commuter marriage thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't seen Mike in quite a few years, but he was the most gracious of hosts. I had rented a car in PA. Thank god for those little driving devices that speak the directions to you or I would never have made it! I got to his "house" aka mansion a little before he was ready to knock off work and I was able to wander around the campus a bit on my own. Mike also introduced me to his wonderful colleagues at the seminary. Of course, I did have to tell them a story involving Mike that even he didn't know. My first kiss happened in his office at Angelica. It involved a boring Sunday morning and a game of truth or dare. I lost and I was dared to kiss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vijay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Velu&lt;/span&gt;... no tongue though. I saved that for David a couple years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After sharing that story I think Mike wanted to hustle me out of the office quickly. We headed over to the campus chapel. The chapel (church) has a beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Andover&lt;/span&gt; Tracker Organ and while we were there &lt;a href="http://www.felix-hell.com/"&gt;Felix Hell&lt;/a&gt;, a German organ virtuoso, came in a treated us to an impromptu mini concert! He was there practicing for a real concert that he was giving later on in the week. I was tortured as a child by have to attend MANY organ concerts. But, this one was perfect! It was good and only about 5 minutes long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfT6s29hJeI/AAAAAAAAABs/rzBhhPQ6Mzg/s1600-h/MikeCooper-White.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfT6s29hJeI/AAAAAAAAABs/rzBhhPQ6Mzg/s320/MikeCooper-White.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329159907660867042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to Mike's place and he cooked a fantastic dinner of grilled salmon and asparagus with Pam's homemade Hollandaise sauce. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We drank wine (I won't say how much) and talked for hours. It was one of the best visits I've had with anyone in a long time. Probably, since Carole and I &lt;a href="http://caroleandalan.blogspot.com/2008/08/on-road-againto-california.html"&gt;vacationed&lt;/a&gt; together in the summer. Mike and I discussed church politics, relationships, kids, colleges, and more. It was wonderful to reconnect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-6558841730107785852?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6558841730107785852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6558841730107785852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2009/04/trip-to-gettysburg.html' title='Trip to Gettysburg'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfT47ltv_aI/AAAAAAAAABc/VLhsYOwjErs/s72-c/JennDaveConfirmation1980.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-6519481476355362991</id><published>2008-09-28T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T11:24:53.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Said Good-bye</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX4Pe3do4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/h47yDqppZU4/s1600-h/JasonDave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX4Pe3do4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/h47yDqppZU4/s200/JasonDave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329438678930269058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did it. We said good bye to Beth and headed into Seattle. It was actually OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather had been beautiful and we saw David's nephew Jason who is living in Seattle right now. We took him out to lunch and had a really good time walking around Pike's Market with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how much I will miss Bethany yet. Right now though it feels good to know that she is getting ready to start a big new chapter in her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX4VrE_6qI/AAAAAAAAADE/y5s0r_NJuHQ/s1600-h/jennDaveSeattle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX4VrE_6qI/AAAAAAAAADE/y5s0r_NJuHQ/s320/jennDaveSeattle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329438785287482018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-6519481476355362991?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6519481476355362991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/6519481476355362991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2008/09/said-good-bye.html' title='Said Good-bye'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX4Pe3do4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/h47yDqppZU4/s72-c/JasonDave.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7866932561017887223.post-651262308078485103</id><published>2008-09-26T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:37:43.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sending Bethany off to College</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX1Kp1gNTI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LjaUxBLO6o4/s1600-h/Bethdorm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX1Kp1gNTI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LjaUxBLO6o4/s200/Bethdorm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329435297440609586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: lucida grande;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Well, we are getting down to the wire. I will say goodbye to Bethany tomorrow morning. I am already preparing for the tears...actually I have been practicing. Evergreen will be a wonderful place for her! She has an AWESOME apartment on campus -- second floor with vaulted ceilings and views of the redwoods. She shares it with three other girls. So, forgive my glib broad brush. Truly, they really seem like wonderful young women!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Evangelist Emma" - Bethany ended up with the Residential Assistant in her apartment. She seems very nice. She likes the same sci-fi authors that Bethany does AND one of her favorite books is the bible - hmmmm interesting. On her Facebook page she was showing off her new tattoo; a big cross over her appendix. We didn't see much of her while we were here. The good thing is that Bethany will always have 100% recycled toilet paper (since the RA always has a supply on hand)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Blue Hair Hanna" - She is from Maine. She seems very nice..intellectual...mature... only child. Her mom, Lisa, came with her. She is a DO (osteopathic doctor with an alternative practice). Hanna shipped lots of books and they were forever grateful that David helped them raise Hanna's bed (my charming man). Hannah saw Bethany's "James Logan Water Polo" shirt and started laughing. Turns out her dad's name is James Logan. We will have to send up a shirt from the high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tattoo Mary" - Darlin' Mary is from Tennessee. She has an entire TWO PARAGRAPHS tattooed on her back. It is from "The Prophet" by Khalil Gibran. I did give her a hard time about not having the quote citation tattooed on her back as well. Her father is a Republican, but I have to say it is obvious how much he loves the daughter who, in his words, "has been throwin' me for a loop since the day she was born". Her mother tried to put an Obama sign in their yard, but Dad wouldn't hear of it unless it said "women in this house for Obama"....I thought that was cute and indicative of many parts of the US that we Californians just don't understand. I loved her mother!!! She thought that Morgan (Beth's BF) seemed like a "wonderful fellow".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX0Yd5vcDI/AAAAAAAAACs/VVYjyuvc_3I/s1600-h/Bethroommates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX0Yd5vcDI/AAAAAAAAACs/VVYjyuvc_3I/s320/Bethroommates.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329434435243700274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing how much my heart hurts... what a wonderful and amazing journey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7866932561017887223-651262308078485103?l=jenn-stringer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/651262308078485103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7866932561017887223/posts/default/651262308078485103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenn-stringer.blogspot.com/2008/09/thoughts-on-sending-bethany-off-to.html' title='Sending Bethany off to College'/><author><name>Jenn Stringer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04059506751767410615</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XSbOD-FbaNs/SfX1Kp1gNTI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LjaUxBLO6o4/s72-c/Bethdorm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
