<?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-8059321015821084355</id><updated>2011-12-21T13:47:46.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was the Least I Could Do</title><subtitle type='html'>And of course, I always do...the least I can do.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-5311789613539162693</id><published>2011-12-21T13:44:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T13:47:46.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa and the Boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OUdiVdTu3Ls/TvJFrIjwCLI/AAAAAAAAFB4/2ZjnKAVrat4/s1600/PJ%2Bwith%2BSanta.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688685886656481458" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OUdiVdTu3Ls/TvJFrIjwCLI/AAAAAAAAFB4/2ZjnKAVrat4/s320/PJ%2Bwith%2BSanta.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hX1bzYfdvY/TvJFjYslViI/AAAAAAAAFBs/WLY2Emw2inM/s1600/Kohan%2Bwith%2BSanta.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688685753549542946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hX1bzYfdvY/TvJFjYslViI/AAAAAAAAFBs/WLY2Emw2inM/s320/Kohan%2Bwith%2BSanta.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of Sara's aunties had a party last week and invited Santa. PJ is used to Santa by now but Kohan, not so much.&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/8059321015821084355-5311789613539162693?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/5311789613539162693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=5311789613539162693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5311789613539162693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5311789613539162693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/12/santa-and-boys.html' title='Santa and the Boys'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OUdiVdTu3Ls/TvJFrIjwCLI/AAAAAAAAFB4/2ZjnKAVrat4/s72-c/PJ%2Bwith%2BSanta.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1952386903475699838</id><published>2011-12-14T17:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T17:44:03.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker's First Lost Tooth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wq4W11PJlaA/TulB7GzWVAI/AAAAAAAAFBg/63Qp1GZA9nw/s1600/First%2BLost%2BTooth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686148488226034690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wq4W11PJlaA/TulB7GzWVAI/AAAAAAAAFBg/63Qp1GZA9nw/s320/First%2BLost%2BTooth.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 23, 2011, PJ lost his first tooth. He seems pretty happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1952386903475699838?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1952386903475699838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1952386903475699838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1952386903475699838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1952386903475699838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/12/parkers-first-lost-tooth.html' title='Parker&apos;s First Lost Tooth'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wq4W11PJlaA/TulB7GzWVAI/AAAAAAAAFBg/63Qp1GZA9nw/s72-c/First%2BLost%2BTooth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2738949668298917316</id><published>2011-12-06T12:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T12:36:22.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rBdjYhVAOLU/Tt5tq9nHVzI/AAAAAAAAE_c/Am6lbWEKIeE/s1600/Pumpkin%2BFarm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683100364648699698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rBdjYhVAOLU/Tt5tq9nHVzI/AAAAAAAAE_c/Am6lbWEKIeE/s320/Pumpkin%2BFarm.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; PJ and Kohan playing on a tractor at the pumpkin farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pPu1z_vWlH8/Tt5tqCMow3I/AAAAAAAAE_Q/7Az5DaW0Pzo/s1600/PJs%2BPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683100348699951986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pPu1z_vWlH8/Tt5tqCMow3I/AAAAAAAAE_Q/7Az5DaW0Pzo/s320/PJs%2BPumpkin.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dustin carved the pumpkin on the left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OPQImLbAqzg/Tt5tpy5JxZI/AAAAAAAAE_A/supa-h21srI/s1600/Parade%2Bat%2BSchool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683100344591697298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OPQImLbAqzg/Tt5tpy5JxZI/AAAAAAAAE_A/supa-h21srI/s320/Parade%2Bat%2BSchool.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJ in the halloween parade at school. If you can't tell, he is Indiana Jones. I got him an Indy hat that wouldn't fit because PJ's head is too big. I also got him a whip which he told me he couldn't take to school because "it is a weapon".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7fLmFbaHjU/Tt5tp5HZuMI/AAAAAAAAE-4/TkZBbcvXtqE/s1600/Indy%2Bin%2Bfront%2Bof%2Bschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683100346262075586" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7fLmFbaHjU/Tt5tp5HZuMI/AAAAAAAAE-4/TkZBbcvXtqE/s320/Indy%2Bin%2Bfront%2Bof%2Bschool.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Indiana Jones (PJ) and Adrian Peterson (Trey) at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-2738949668298917316?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2738949668298917316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2738949668298917316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2738949668298917316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2738949668298917316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/12/halloween-2011.html' title='Halloween 2011'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rBdjYhVAOLU/Tt5tq9nHVzI/AAAAAAAAE_c/Am6lbWEKIeE/s72-c/Pumpkin%2BFarm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1139367644778431101</id><published>2011-10-26T20:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T21:00:00.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ and the Primary Program</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VCZwfr-WnAk/TqjIAlyVy9I/AAAAAAAAE-o/pzS4X4zdRCM/s1600/Primary%2BProgram%2B2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VCZwfr-WnAk/TqjIAlyVy9I/AAAAAAAAE-o/pzS4X4zdRCM/s320/Primary%2BProgram%2B2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668000043514579922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A couple of Sundays ago, PJ was with us on Sunday and, just by chance, it was the ward primary program. PJ only comes to church with us about once a month so we didn't know if he'd want to be involved or not. He actually wanted to get up on the stand with his class and sing the songs (he didn't seem to be doing much singing). The primary even gave him a part to say. As the primary president whispered in his ear, he spoke loudly and clearly. He was especially happy when JoAnn told him how much better he did than Richie oh those many years ago. When JoAnn whispered in Richie's ear, he would whisper in the microphone. PJ thought it was quite funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1139367644778431101?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1139367644778431101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1139367644778431101&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1139367644778431101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1139367644778431101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/10/pj-and-primary-program.html' title='PJ and the Primary Program'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VCZwfr-WnAk/TqjIAlyVy9I/AAAAAAAAE-o/pzS4X4zdRCM/s72-c/Primary%2BProgram%2B2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3991296003322118234</id><published>2011-10-25T17:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T17:17:34.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Chickens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wF3yIdciafM/TqdDiSfSDII/AAAAAAAAE-I/_qdxTmjswak/s1600/Hen%2Band%2BChicks%2B2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667572912426716290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wF3yIdciafM/TqdDiSfSDII/AAAAAAAAE-I/_qdxTmjswak/s320/Hen%2Band%2BChicks%2B2011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For about a month, one of our big white hens has been missing. Well, not entirely missing because we would spot her every now and then. We wondered if she was sitting on some eggs but I could never find her. I searched the entire acre and no luck (not surprising when the grass in the pasture is 4 feet high). Anyway, last Friday she finally showed up with her 9 chicks. Why did she do this at this time of the year instead of springtime? Anybody care to become a chicken rancher?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3991296003322118234?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3991296003322118234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3991296003322118234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3991296003322118234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3991296003322118234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/10/stupid-chickens.html' title='Stupid Chickens'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wF3yIdciafM/TqdDiSfSDII/AAAAAAAAE-I/_qdxTmjswak/s72-c/Hen%2Band%2BChicks%2B2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7523692936093451058</id><published>2011-10-22T19:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T17:21:34.185-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's First Soccer Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DtgbkoEStmc/TqdEelqJgFI/AAAAAAAAE-Y/UIZ4RTp9dDc/s1600/IMG_1115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667573948364718162" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DtgbkoEStmc/TqdEelqJgFI/AAAAAAAAE-Y/UIZ4RTp9dDc/s320/IMG_1115.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, we went and cheered PJ at his first soccer game. He is playing indoor soccer at the Herriman Recreation Center (that place is a Taj Mahal). He seemed to have a lot of fun. To see more photos, click on this &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/PJFirstSoccerGame#5666497203858129234"&gt;link&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/8059321015821084355-7523692936093451058?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7523692936093451058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7523692936093451058&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7523692936093451058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7523692936093451058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/10/pjs-first-soccer-game.html' title='PJ&apos;s First Soccer Game'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DtgbkoEStmc/TqdEelqJgFI/AAAAAAAAE-Y/UIZ4RTp9dDc/s72-c/IMG_1115.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6791653227288769841</id><published>2011-10-12T12:37:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T12:56:27.509-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's Fun Run</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago, I got invited to go see PJ and Trey participate in the school's fun run (I think they were promoting fitness or somesuch nonsense). After it was over, PJ swore he would never ever run again. He was pretty tired but that was because he was going as fast as he could the entire race. He hasn't learned the tortoise and hare story yet. The funny thing is that later that day, after we had all been to lunch and took Trey home, they  raced each other to the corner and back several times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fhg6_VL3EV8/TpXfTr4VKnI/AAAAAAAAE70/AioY1SSymPc/s1600/Thinking%2Babout%2Bthe%2BRace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fhg6_VL3EV8/TpXfTr4VKnI/AAAAAAAAE70/AioY1SSymPc/s320/Thinking%2Babout%2Bthe%2BRace.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662677635777768050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJ appears to be thinking about the race and developing a strategy to defeat all of the other kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VvidQ7F7sSA/TpXfUXXtFaI/AAAAAAAAE8U/zw2OF7LEH0E/s1600/092401_0936%255B00%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VvidQ7F7sSA/TpXfUXXtFaI/AAAAAAAAE8U/zw2OF7LEH0E/s320/092401_0936%255B00%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662677647452083618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJ and Trey lapping the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOknuaDP4k/TpXfT3hqlPI/AAAAAAAAE8M/6bUSKFXlkKk/s1600/Getting%2BPast%2BTeacher.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOknuaDP4k/TpXfT3hqlPI/AAAAAAAAE8M/6bUSKFXlkKk/s320/Getting%2BPast%2BTeacher.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662677638903928050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting caught behind a group of slow girls including the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GDTzwI6bNY/TpXfT_fwF6I/AAAAAAAAE78/K0oBVkKRRM0/s1600/Running%2BFast.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GDTzwI6bNY/TpXfT_fwF6I/AAAAAAAAE78/K0oBVkKRRM0/s320/Running%2BFast.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662677641043384226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJ sprinting his guts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1N_oLYBaAuM/TpXfUfFIuaI/AAAAAAAAE8k/sg_KV4W_g1g/s1600/Getting%2BTired.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1N_oLYBaAuM/TpXfUfFIuaI/AAAAAAAAE8k/sg_KV4W_g1g/s320/Getting%2BTired.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662677649521686946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh oh, someone appears to be getting tired and slowing down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6791653227288769841?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6791653227288769841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6791653227288769841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6791653227288769841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6791653227288769841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/10/pjs-fun-run.html' title='PJ&apos;s Fun Run'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fhg6_VL3EV8/TpXfTr4VKnI/AAAAAAAAE70/AioY1SSymPc/s72-c/Thinking%2Babout%2Bthe%2BRace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3272768278911837295</id><published>2011-09-19T21:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T21:53:53.562-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenes from a Farewell Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eAHg8hMDJX4/TngNaHSLsRI/AAAAAAAAE7c/gT48IZCYgbs/s1600/PJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eAHg8hMDJX4/TngNaHSLsRI/AAAAAAAAE7c/gT48IZCYgbs/s320/PJ.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654284074446729490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bucDSyrkejs/TngNZ25u9FI/AAAAAAAAE7U/9_e1M0oH6Vw/s1600/Kohan%2BRichie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bucDSyrkejs/TngNZ25u9FI/AAAAAAAAE7U/9_e1M0oH6Vw/s320/Kohan%2BRichie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654284070049215570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wityqaSCVXs/TngNaP5EqLI/AAAAAAAAE7k/zMPGM7nppPM/s1600/Richie%2BDus%2BSara%2BPJ%2BBoomer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wityqaSCVXs/TngNaP5EqLI/AAAAAAAAE7k/zMPGM7nppPM/s320/Richie%2BDus%2BSara%2BPJ%2BBoomer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654284076757330098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As summer drew to a close, and Richie prepared to leave for DC, we had a farewell dinner for him. PJ listens as Richie talks rubbish, Kohan tries to get something to eat, and Dustin and Sara enjoy a semi-quiet moment. With Kohan around, quiet moments are few and far between.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3272768278911837295?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3272768278911837295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3272768278911837295&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3272768278911837295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3272768278911837295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/09/goodbye-richie.html' title='Scenes from a Farewell Dinner'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eAHg8hMDJX4/TngNaHSLsRI/AAAAAAAAE7c/gT48IZCYgbs/s72-c/PJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3932118178167340235</id><published>2011-09-07T22:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T20:30:38.699-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's First Day of Kindergarten</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qQgl3mmF5Iw/Tm1uyi_VwuI/AAAAAAAAE7I/Q2yUBpYj9kk/s1600/0907111132b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qQgl3mmF5Iw/Tm1uyi_VwuI/AAAAAAAAE7I/Q2yUBpYj9kk/s320/0907111132b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294922084827874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a day PJ has been looking forward to. He was so excited, he made his Mommy get to school 20 minutes early and then they had to wait for everyone else to get there. He picked out his own clothes, his Mario Cart backpack, and was ready to begin his education. He is especially happy to be in the same class as his best friend, Trey. For more photos, check out &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/PJFirstDayOfKindergarten#5651293031737400850"&gt;this link&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3932118178167340235?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3932118178167340235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3932118178167340235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3932118178167340235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3932118178167340235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title='PJ&apos;s First Day of Kindergarten'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qQgl3mmF5Iw/Tm1uyi_VwuI/AAAAAAAAE7I/Q2yUBpYj9kk/s72-c/0907111132b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8377065793514420911</id><published>2011-08-22T18:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T18:22:27.531-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Balloon Animal for PJ</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mhk8Zqtsbuo/TlLx3sdMGGI/AAAAAAAAE4A/L8-82T2GSUU/s1600/Balloon%2Banimal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mhk8Zqtsbuo/TlLx3sdMGGI/AAAAAAAAE4A/L8-82T2GSUU/s320/Balloon%2Banimal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643839222177339490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I picked PJ up over at Trey's house. To my dismay, they had been to the Dollar Store and bought some long thin balloons. They were impossible to blow up unless you used the pump which didn't work either. Anyway, while we were waiting for Nana to get finished in Hobby Lobby, PJ wanted me to make him an animal. Like any good Papa, I did what I could to make him happy. My first and only balloon animal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8377065793514420911?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8377065793514420911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8377065793514420911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8377065793514420911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8377065793514420911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/08/balloon-animal-for-pj.html' title='Balloon Animal for PJ'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mhk8Zqtsbuo/TlLx3sdMGGI/AAAAAAAAE4A/L8-82T2GSUU/s72-c/Balloon%2Banimal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7215427797269819247</id><published>2011-08-15T11:53:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T11:58:16.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kohan Keep-away</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bX0o3wVv12A/TkldZkDGkjI/AAAAAAAAE30/y9KCUXRwguo/s1600/Keep%2Baway%2B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bX0o3wVv12A/TkldZkDGkjI/AAAAAAAAE30/y9KCUXRwguo/s320/Keep%2Baway%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641142702013059634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_N0bFQsU9X4/TkldZT_-8iI/AAAAAAAAE3s/fCew9QfefPI/s1600/Keep%2Baway%2B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_N0bFQsU9X4/TkldZT_-8iI/AAAAAAAAE3s/fCew9QfefPI/s320/Keep%2Baway%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641142697705009698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Monday was JoAnn's birthday and we had dinner over at Senta and Burke's house. While we were there, JoAnn and PJ played keep-away from Kohan. Hardly seems fair. Kohan was a good sport about though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7215427797269819247?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7215427797269819247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7215427797269819247&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7215427797269819247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7215427797269819247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/08/kohan-keep-away.html' title='Kohan Keep-away'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bX0o3wVv12A/TkldZkDGkjI/AAAAAAAAE30/y9KCUXRwguo/s72-c/Keep%2Baway%2B2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3026498350938053158</id><published>2011-08-11T12:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T12:26:19.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kohan and Mud</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J7HvmjvFOjo/TkQeQn-aLsI/AAAAAAAAE3g/TQIPApR0cW0/s1600/August%2B2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J7HvmjvFOjo/TkQeQn-aLsI/AAAAAAAAE3g/TQIPApR0cW0/s320/August%2B2011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639665904332189378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Kohan comes over, we have to be careful if the back door is open. He runs out, climbs down for the stairs and heads for the chicken coop where he likes to play in you know what. If we have irrigated recently, there will be mud in the shallow ditch on the way to the coop. That is about the only thing that slows him down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3026498350938053158?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3026498350938053158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3026498350938053158&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3026498350938053158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3026498350938053158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/08/kohan-and-mud.html' title='Kohan and Mud'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J7HvmjvFOjo/TkQeQn-aLsI/AAAAAAAAE3g/TQIPApR0cW0/s72-c/August%2B2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6098943895367387262</id><published>2011-08-02T18:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T18:22:51.289-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jEPcYbJyUk8/TjiU0VFS-QI/AAAAAAAAE3U/LkHMAcBhLS4/s1600/Smiley.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jEPcYbJyUk8/TjiU0VFS-QI/AAAAAAAAE3U/LkHMAcBhLS4/s320/Smiley.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636418560387643650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that my all time favorite book will be made into another movie. I say another because back in the 1970s, it was a mini series on British TV, widely acclaimed as the best movie from a book ever. If you don't believe me, click on this &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2011/jul/10/smiley-starts-a-row"&gt;link &lt;/a&gt;to read an informative article. To see the trailer click &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/z-ZQPipqax4"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. If you haven't read the book, you should certainly think about doing so. Soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6098943895367387262?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6098943895367387262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6098943895367387262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6098943895367387262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6098943895367387262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/08/tinker-tailor-soldier-spy.html' title='Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jEPcYbJyUk8/TjiU0VFS-QI/AAAAAAAAE3U/LkHMAcBhLS4/s72-c/Smiley.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1162669153904097676</id><published>2011-08-01T17:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T18:03:36.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ophir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--z8vCA3KS54/Tjc-0wNhmvI/AAAAAAAAE3I/HL_Ws2vlrTg/s1600/Rock%2Bwith%2Bfools%2Bgold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--z8vCA3KS54/Tjc-0wNhmvI/AAAAAAAAE3I/HL_Ws2vlrTg/s320/Rock%2Bwith%2Bfools%2Bgold.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636042534693214962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Kg5y--J8QM/Tjc-0rOrSPI/AAAAAAAAE3A/1bsyOQ0EXwQ/s1600/JoAnn%2Band%2BPJ%2Bwith%2Bgoat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Kg5y--J8QM/Tjc-0rOrSPI/AAAAAAAAE3A/1bsyOQ0EXwQ/s320/JoAnn%2Band%2BPJ%2Bwith%2Bgoat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636042533355866354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dUeyWJLMdlw/Tjc-0m9XcKI/AAAAAAAAE24/w8b-AeQP2r8/s1600/With%2BNatali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dUeyWJLMdlw/Tjc-0m9XcKI/AAAAAAAAE24/w8b-AeQP2r8/s320/With%2BNatali.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636042532209520802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CV2CXVNXp9c/Tjc-0YHFknI/AAAAAAAAE2w/LbgzH4UdrpU/s1600/On%2Bmachinery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CV2CXVNXp9c/Tjc-0YHFknI/AAAAAAAAE2w/LbgzH4UdrpU/s320/On%2Bmachinery.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636042528223761010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Richie was home in June, JoAnn wanted to take a road trip with to someplace where we could go rockhounding. Ophir seemed like a good place so away we went. We stopped at the Camp Floyd State Park (where PJ and JoAnn made friends with a goat, went to Ophir (where we collected some interesting rocks which are full of fool's gold), and then drove through Tooele, around through Magna and home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1162669153904097676?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1162669153904097676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1162669153904097676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1162669153904097676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1162669153904097676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/08/ophir.html' title='Ophir'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--z8vCA3KS54/Tjc-0wNhmvI/AAAAAAAAE3I/HL_Ws2vlrTg/s72-c/Rock%2Bwith%2Bfools%2Bgold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1462889334047903533</id><published>2011-07-28T17:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T17:49:06.205-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing in the Irrigation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aG6V0pu9jr4/TjH03Z4233I/AAAAAAAAE2k/9u6RV9rEUkQ/s1600/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aG6V0pu9jr4/TjH03Z4233I/AAAAAAAAE2k/9u6RV9rEUkQ/s320/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634553841496547186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YvRAZgizzgs/TjH03dwGEiI/AAAAAAAAE2c/6D7NK6X8hjQ/s1600/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YvRAZgizzgs/TjH03dwGEiI/AAAAAAAAE2c/6D7NK6X8hjQ/s320/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634553842533536290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wf0n6F77cso/TjH03EgETJI/AAAAAAAAE2U/5HgrrZRb0to/s1600/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wf0n6F77cso/TjH03EgETJI/AAAAAAAAE2U/5HgrrZRb0to/s320/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634553835755424914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night, Dustion brought PJ and Kohan over to hang out. As luck would have it, I was scheduled to irrigate that evening. PJ asked if he could play in the water and, since Kohan loves all things wet, he got to have some fun as well. Unfortunatley, I had a smudge on the camera lens so the photos look a little weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1462889334047903533?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1462889334047903533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1462889334047903533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1462889334047903533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1462889334047903533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/07/playing-in-irrigation.html' title='Playing in the Irrigation'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aG6V0pu9jr4/TjH03Z4233I/AAAAAAAAE2k/9u6RV9rEUkQ/s72-c/Playing%2Bin%2Birrigation%2B3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7964974696827599604</id><published>2011-07-27T17:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T18:04:49.168-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Days of 47 Children's Fair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3PkxluexQw/TjCnmubCjaI/AAAAAAAAE2I/1yZwDkX29v8/s1600/Spiderman%2BEye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3PkxluexQw/TjCnmubCjaI/AAAAAAAAE2I/1yZwDkX29v8/s320/Spiderman%2BEye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634187417578802594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4jqWFWFo4B8/TjCnmYkNhGI/AAAAAAAAE2A/nGMAUeZyhHU/s1600/Jumping%2BCastle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4jqWFWFo4B8/TjCnmYkNhGI/AAAAAAAAE2A/nGMAUeZyhHU/s320/Jumping%2BCastle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634187411711689826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SziJBak8tr4/TjCnmIhboyI/AAAAAAAAE14/5Z8OPPq5BVw/s1600/Inflatable%2BSlide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SziJBak8tr4/TjCnmIhboyI/AAAAAAAAE14/5Z8OPPq5BVw/s320/Inflatable%2BSlide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634187407405064994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2siREhYO-4M/TjCnmHXtlCI/AAAAAAAAE1w/eq42V6D2DL8/s1600/Inflatable.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2siREhYO-4M/TjCnmHXtlCI/AAAAAAAAE1w/eq42V6D2DL8/s320/Inflatable.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634187407095862306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past couple of years, we have taken PJ to the Days of 47 Children's Parade. It works out well because the start of the parade is outside of the building where I work. This year we were late so we headed directly to the fair which is held at Washington Square. PJ had a blast because he had the inflatable slides and jump houses almost to himself. He also got a spiderman eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7964974696827599604?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7964974696827599604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7964974696827599604&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7964974696827599604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7964974696827599604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/07/days-of-47-childrens-fair.html' title='Days of 47 Children&apos;s Fair'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3PkxluexQw/TjCnmubCjaI/AAAAAAAAE2I/1yZwDkX29v8/s72-c/Spiderman%2BEye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7704944059466678461</id><published>2011-03-08T19:52:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T19:58:33.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Working at the DI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GnvZ48Dbo00/TXbsFvip7mI/AAAAAAAAE1A/VuVP-Y9-EGA/s1600/121800_1315%255B01%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GnvZ48Dbo00/TXbsFvip7mI/AAAAAAAAE1A/VuVP-Y9-EGA/s320/121800_1315%255B01%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581908371577630306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg87MSrLXqE/TXbsFueLD9I/AAAAAAAAE04/_Cxr841kECM/s1600/121800_1315%255B00%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg87MSrLXqE/TXbsFueLD9I/AAAAAAAAE04/_Cxr841kECM/s320/121800_1315%255B00%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581908371290394578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing we did over the holidays was to volunteer to work at the West Jordan DI. We wanted to make it a family thing but everyone was busy except for JoAnn, Richie, and me. It's not bad work and goes pretty fast. Our job on this day was to put the price stickers on the "as is items" and put them on a cart. We would take them off of a shelve which is labeled with the amount the price should be. They are put there by someone on the other side of the shelve. I got to witness a manager and worker looking at items and debating their value. They did this to calibrate what shelve the worker put the item on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The interesting thing is, the time it takes for donations to get out on the floor after you've dropped them off is probably 30 minutes or less, including clothes; no, they do not wash them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7704944059466678461?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7704944059466678461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7704944059466678461&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7704944059466678461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7704944059466678461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/03/working-at-di.html' title='Working at the DI'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GnvZ48Dbo00/TXbsFvip7mI/AAAAAAAAE1A/VuVP-Y9-EGA/s72-c/121800_1315%255B01%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8507594816308026126</id><published>2011-03-01T19:46:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T19:50:19.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ Asleep at Church</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzNEGjtyq4I/TW2vsf-uGwI/AAAAAAAAE0U/65-HJAeLlrA/s1600/PJ%2BAsleep%2Bin%2BChurch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzNEGjtyq4I/TW2vsf-uGwI/AAAAAAAAE0U/65-HJAeLlrA/s320/PJ%2BAsleep%2Bin%2BChurch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579308692415585026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday, PJ agreed to go to Sacrament Meeting with us if he could wear his regular clothes and bring his Spongebob and Patrick legos along with the Crabby Patty Car. He didn't last too long before he fell asleep. I think he was a little sick, if you look closely, his cheeks are reddish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8507594816308026126?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8507594816308026126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8507594816308026126&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8507594816308026126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8507594816308026126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/03/pj-asleep-at-church.html' title='PJ Asleep at Church'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzNEGjtyq4I/TW2vsf-uGwI/AAAAAAAAE0U/65-HJAeLlrA/s72-c/PJ%2BAsleep%2Bin%2BChurch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1520133713325070519</id><published>2011-02-20T19:59:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T21:38:19.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Cottonwood Tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ptoQSbMae2c/TXBsrxFHxVI/AAAAAAAAE0c/r1mta-b-TaU/s1600/PJ%2Bon%2Bstump%2B2.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ptoQSbMae2c/TXBsrxFHxVI/AAAAAAAAE0c/r1mta-b-TaU/s320/PJ%2Bon%2Bstump%2B2.jpg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580079437477037394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-joGaGWeTmLM/TWHVfYJph6I/AAAAAAAAEz0/Z4YUr6EjtF8/s1600/IMG_0967.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/-joGaGWeTmLM/TWHVfYJph6I/AAAAAAAAEz0/Z4YUr6EjtF8/s320/IMG_0967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575972548696967074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we moved to Bluffdale in 1990, one of the first things we did was plant a cottonwood tree in the front yard. In was hoping to see brilliant yellow foliage in the fall like the cottonwood trees along rivers and streams in back country Utah. However, the leaves never turned yellow; just brown. The tree did provide shade and a lot of leaves and twigs in the fall that had to be raked or mulched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the spring of 2010, we noticed that the tree did not fully leaf out. Over the course of the summer, it just kept dying back. Since it had been trimmed by Rocky Mountain Power about 6 months previously, we wrote a letter to RMP asking them to come cut the tree and take it away. Although they denied responsibility, they did cut the tree down in October of 2010 but I had to haul it away. After cutting it up as best I could, I loaded my trailer 8 times with chunks and branches about 4-5 feet deep and hauled it to the dump. My left elbow has still not recovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still have the two-ton tree trunk in my front yard but I've made arrangements to get rid of it soon. More photos can be seen &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/DeadTree2010#"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1520133713325070519?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1520133713325070519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1520133713325070519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/02/dead-cottonwood-tree.html' title='Dead Cottonwood Tree'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ptoQSbMae2c/TXBsrxFHxVI/AAAAAAAAE0c/r1mta-b-TaU/s72-c/PJ%2Bon%2Bstump%2B2.jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3291339535556540866</id><published>2011-02-15T21:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T21:59:40.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Messiah Sing-In</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DjMMAtncIPY/TVtYqI2yQOI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/qCWMHWQ06kA/s1600/Messiah%2BSing%2Bin%2B2%2B2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DjMMAtncIPY/TVtYqI2yQOI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/qCWMHWQ06kA/s320/Messiah%2BSing%2Bin%2B2%2B2010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574146444756140258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6dmMKTaEzU/TVtYqFn0KzI/AAAAAAAAEzI/RJsw9-1TJdk/s1600/Messiah%2BSing%2Bin%2B2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6dmMKTaEzU/TVtYqFn0KzI/AAAAAAAAEzI/RJsw9-1TJdk/s320/Messiah%2BSing%2Bin%2B2010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574146443888044850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I forgot to mention that this last Christmas season, I think it was the weekend after Thanksgiving, JoAnn and I went to the Messiah Sing-In at Symphony Hall. We bought tickets for Senta and Greg but they ended up having other plans. For the uninitiated, the Messiah music book is about 3/4 inches thick and weighs about 5 pounds. Luckily, it only takes about 1 ½ hours to sing it. I really developed an appreciation for the music and I now keep a copy in the stereo in my car and listen to it quite often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3291339535556540866?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3291339535556540866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3291339535556540866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/02/messiah-sing-in.html' title='Messiah Sing-In'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DjMMAtncIPY/TVtYqI2yQOI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/qCWMHWQ06kA/s72-c/Messiah%2BSing%2Bin%2B2%2B2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8946173409328616241</id><published>2011-02-06T18:21:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T18:28:28.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's Fifth Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TU9JPZEBfgI/AAAAAAAAEyw/ePpQR1E4eow/s1600/IMG_0986.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TU9JPZEBfgI/AAAAAAAAEyw/ePpQR1E4eow/s320/IMG_0986.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570751792855219714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first leg of PJ's fifth birthday began on January 22 at Jungle Jim's. It is amazing how much fun a five-year old can have at a place like this especially when his five-year old best friend, Trey, is with him. The second leg was on Sunday at our house when he got to open presents again. Unfortunately, the Lego toys his dad ordered him from Brick Trainshop have still not arrived. More pictures of the birthday boy can be found &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/PJSFifthBirthday#"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8946173409328616241?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8946173409328616241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8946173409328616241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/02/pjs-fifth-birthday.html' title='PJ&apos;s Fifth Birthday'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TU9JPZEBfgI/AAAAAAAAEyw/ePpQR1E4eow/s72-c/IMG_0986.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7452628563268456104</id><published>2011-01-30T19:36:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T21:39:45.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TUY8Bq5n7fI/AAAAAAAAEvQ/JVFGSXICMRg/s1600/_MG_1060%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TUY8Bq5n7fI/AAAAAAAAEvQ/JVFGSXICMRg/s320/_MG_1060%2B%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568203988683714034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things we did as a family this Christmas past was to visit Temple Square on Christmas Eve. It was rather cold so we didn't stay all that long, but we had an enjoyable time. Unfortunately, at the time I couldn't find my camera so I didn't take any photos. Fortunately, Richie had his camera and took a lot of them. They can be found &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/richiewilcox/Christmas2010?authkey=Gv1sRgCKm8_eXRyqnItgE#"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7452628563268456104?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7452628563268456104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7452628563268456104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='Christmas 2010'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TUY8Bq5n7fI/AAAAAAAAEvQ/JVFGSXICMRg/s72-c/_MG_1060%2B%25282%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-5204491844251309105</id><published>2010-06-12T22:34:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T22:46:43.002-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cotton Time of Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRhaXog0qI/AAAAAAAAEsw/q99wgYTDxXo/s1600/IMG_0881.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRhaXog0qI/AAAAAAAAEsw/q99wgYTDxXo/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482113752065168034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRhZjF3vgI/AAAAAAAAEso/nBSKGeQRt9k/s1600/IMG_0873.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRhZjF3vgI/AAAAAAAAEso/nBSKGeQRt9k/s320/IMG_0873.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482113737961225730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRgG2bemEI/AAAAAAAAEsU/6U1Ara5SF1U/s1600/IMG_0870.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRgG2bemEI/AAAAAAAAEsU/6U1Ara5SF1U/s320/IMG_0870.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482112317222983746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of trees in my yard. Along the west boundary, we planted hybrid poplars because they grow fast and provide shade. In the yard, we planted several "cottonless" cottonwood trees. However, after they got big and mature, the "cottonless" cottonwood trees started producing copious amounts of cotton as did the hybrid poplars. Needless to say, this time of year gets cottony around here. Luckily, there are many other trees in the neighborhood producing cotton so I don't feel like I'm the only one causing the problem. You will probably have to click on the photos to enlarge them so as to get the full view of the problem. As you can see, the Austrian Pine in the front yard is full of cotton. The white dots in the photo of the street and neighbors house aren't scratches, they are cotton seeds floating by, and PJ was trying to sweep the cotton away with his little American Flag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-5204491844251309105?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/5204491844251309105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=5204491844251309105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5204491844251309105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5204491844251309105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/06/cotton-time-of-year.html' title='Cotton Time of Year'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TBRhaXog0qI/AAAAAAAAEsw/q99wgYTDxXo/s72-c/IMG_0881.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1961968810488763829</id><published>2010-06-07T22:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T22:16:02.117-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thomas the Train</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TA3CqtZZdBI/AAAAAAAAEqo/D_-iycHKny4/s1600/IMG_0858.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TA3CqtZZdBI/AAAAAAAAEqo/D_-iycHKny4/s320/IMG_0858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480250360576177170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TA3CqNiSZcI/AAAAAAAAEqg/cMCi_KXwV44/s1600/IMG_0857.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TA3CqNiSZcI/AAAAAAAAEqg/cMCi_KXwV44/s320/IMG_0857.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480250352023528898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, I don't know why anyone likes&lt;a href="http://events.hitentertainment.com/us/day-out-with-thomas/index.asp"&gt; Thomas the train&lt;/a&gt;. He seems a bit of a stinker to me, always complaining, getting his feelings hurt. But PJ likes Thomas and last week, his Mommy took him to Heber City to ride Thomas. When he came back, he had a whistle, a shirt, and two tattoos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1961968810488763829?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1961968810488763829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1961968810488763829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1961968810488763829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1961968810488763829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/06/thomas-train.html' title='Thomas the Train'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TA3CqtZZdBI/AAAAAAAAEqo/D_-iycHKny4/s72-c/IMG_0858.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6790714600876364172</id><published>2010-05-30T22:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T22:29:42.121-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ Swinging</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TAM648jfpdI/AAAAAAAAEqY/vAKfngnPef8/s1600/IMG_0854.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TAM648jfpdI/AAAAAAAAEqY/vAKfngnPef8/s320/IMG_0854.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477286321814742482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TAM64SxI3-I/AAAAAAAAEqQ/YkmJT3TrNL0/s1600/IMG_0852.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TAM64SxI3-I/AAAAAAAAEqQ/YkmJT3TrNL0/s320/IMG_0852.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477286310597681122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJ doesn't much like the regular swings at the park, he'll ride on them, but not too high. However, the string swing in the backyard, is another thing altogether. The higher the better, he likes to make his belly button feel funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6790714600876364172?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6790714600876364172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6790714600876364172&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6790714600876364172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6790714600876364172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/pj-swinging-and-thomas-tatoos.html' title='PJ Swinging'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/TAM648jfpdI/AAAAAAAAEqY/vAKfngnPef8/s72-c/IMG_0854.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1879998747049176582</id><published>2010-05-24T21:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T21:36:23.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow in May</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_tFoS60zGI/AAAAAAAAEqI/yNCiIWTEE4s/s1600/IMG_0847.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_tFoS60zGI/AAAAAAAAEqI/yNCiIWTEE4s/s320/IMG_0847.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475046330574621794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_tFn_PM_AI/AAAAAAAAEqA/lmjJ6E0Uc40/s1600/IMG_0846.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_tFn_PM_AI/AAAAAAAAEqA/lmjJ6E0Uc40/s320/IMG_0846.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475046325291383810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the snow we had the first week in May. The weather then turned nice enough for PJ to wade in the irrigation water the next Sunday. Since then the weather has been off and on but today it snowed again. According to the weather report on KSL, today's storm was the latest date for measurable snow, beating May 18, 1977 as the previous late date. Today's storm was very wet and heavy, so much so that it tipped over a flowering crab apple tree we have in the back yard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1879998747049176582?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1879998747049176582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1879998747049176582&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1879998747049176582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1879998747049176582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/snow-in-may.html' title='Snow in May'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_tFoS60zGI/AAAAAAAAEqI/yNCiIWTEE4s/s72-c/IMG_0847.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7670149823230756479</id><published>2010-05-17T21:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T21:19:58.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's New Haircut</title><content type='html'>Dustin says it is not a Mohawk because it doesn't go down the back of his head. He says it is more of a military jarhead haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IHE_5QaiI/AAAAAAAAEp0/MxBuQ7lusBk/s1600/IMG_0841.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IHE_5QaiI/AAAAAAAAEp0/MxBuQ7lusBk/s320/IMG_0841.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472444279661029922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7670149823230756479?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7670149823230756479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7670149823230756479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7670149823230756479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7670149823230756479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/pjs-new-haircut.html' title='PJ&apos;s New Haircut'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IHE_5QaiI/AAAAAAAAEp0/MxBuQ7lusBk/s72-c/IMG_0841.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2495627430527240528</id><published>2010-05-17T21:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T21:15:07.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Weather</title><content type='html'>The first week in May, we woke up to snow on the ground. It didn't last too long, but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IFoU0OR4I/AAAAAAAAEpk/640GT-ptitg/s1600/IMG_0829.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IFoU0OR4I/AAAAAAAAEpk/640GT-ptitg/s320/IMG_0829.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472442687549228930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week and a half later, we irrigated for the first time of the year. It was warm enough that PJ had fun playing in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IFo5_FT8I/AAAAAAAAEps/snFzP-0Im_8/s1600/IMG_0835.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IFo5_FT8I/AAAAAAAAEps/snFzP-0Im_8/s320/IMG_0835.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472442697526890434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-2495627430527240528?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2495627430527240528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2495627430527240528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2495627430527240528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2495627430527240528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/spring-weather.html' title='Spring Weather'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S_IFoU0OR4I/AAAAAAAAEpk/640GT-ptitg/s72-c/IMG_0829.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4246539275449500498</id><published>2010-05-04T22:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T22:59:14.032-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D52RM2I8I/AAAAAAAAEpU/CWZyJtXKJfY/s1600/IMG_0804.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D52RM2I8I/AAAAAAAAEpU/CWZyJtXKJfY/s320/IMG_0804.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467644658353316802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D517bItMI/AAAAAAAAEpM/LPbxsvhW6RE/s1600/IMG_0803.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D517bItMI/AAAAAAAAEpM/LPbxsvhW6RE/s320/IMG_0803.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467644652507673794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year JoAnn decided she wanted some new ducks for Easter. Our other ducks, Pearl and Elmer are getting old and may not be around much longer. Parker named these ducks Easter Egg, Donald, and Daisy. He knows which is which and if you don't believe me, just ask him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D52zxFGnI/AAAAAAAAEpc/EX4ydE_OKps/s1600/mms95picture.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D52zxFGnI/AAAAAAAAEpc/EX4ydE_OKps/s320/mms95picture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467644667632097906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime around Easter, I've lost track of time, Dustin took PJ to the park for the first time of the year. He loves to go to the park as you can see. I love this photo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-4246539275449500498?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4246539275449500498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4246539275449500498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4246539275449500498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4246539275449500498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/easter-2010.html' title='Easter 2010'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D52RM2I8I/AAAAAAAAEpU/CWZyJtXKJfY/s72-c/IMG_0804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-131607842127107787</id><published>2010-05-04T22:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T22:47:20.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>JoAnn's Honor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D3ZeQxmkI/AAAAAAAAEpE/0y5jur8nQkE/s1600/IMG_0826.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D3ZeQxmkI/AAAAAAAAEpE/0y5jur8nQkE/s320/IMG_0826.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467641964619995714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JoAnn received a very nice honor a couple of weeks ago. She was selected as an outstanding educator in the Jordan School District. The bad thing about it is that I have to accompany her to a banquet at the Little America Hotel next week. I really don't like banquets. But it is a big honor, I think there are about 10 teachers in the entire Jordan District being honored that night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-131607842127107787?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/131607842127107787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=131607842127107787&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/131607842127107787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/131607842127107787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/05/joanns-honor.html' title='JoAnn&apos;s Honor'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S-D3ZeQxmkI/AAAAAAAAEpE/0y5jur8nQkE/s72-c/IMG_0826.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7760001964711585595</id><published>2010-04-11T20:11:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T20:38:06.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Lucky</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S8KHhC26MrI/AAAAAAAAEo4/tJ1LSR361-g/s1600/One_Eternal_Round_Nibley_Rhodes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S8KHhC26MrI/AAAAAAAAEo4/tJ1LSR361-g/s320/One_Eternal_Round_Nibley_Rhodes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459074700099072690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why but I've always been lucky at "draw your name out of the hat" kind of things. I used to go to "&lt;a href="http://www.wslca.org/"&gt;Western States Land Commissioners&lt;/a&gt;" conventions for work. At these conventions, they always had a dinner on the final day and they had prizes which they awarded to those whose names were drawn out of the hat or box or whatever. I won at least one grand prize, one or two runner-up prizes, and lots of other prizes such as briefcases, totes, shirts, that kind of thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a name drawing at work a couple of years ago. The Director at the time, who didn't like me and towards whom the feeling was reciprocated, had a couple of tickets for a sky box to watch the Jazz. Much to his dismay, my name was drawn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last week, JoAnn and I went down to BYU to listen to the last in a &lt;a href="http://maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/news/index.php?id=94&amp;type=events"&gt;series of lectures&lt;/a&gt; about &lt;a href="http://hughnibley.org/"&gt;Hugh Nibley&lt;/a&gt;. Since it was the last lecture, and since it was given by &lt;a href="http://home.comcast.net/~michael.rhodes/"&gt;Michael D. Rhodes&lt;/a&gt;, who co-wrote Nibley's last book, &lt;a href="http://maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/news/index.php?id=132&amp;type=news"&gt;One Eternal Round&lt;/a&gt;, they had a drawing for an autographed copy of the book.  As they were getting ready to draw the name, I leaned over and told JoAnn "I'm pretty lucky at these sorts of drawings". She just said that she never won anything. She's been to at least a million teacher educational gatherings where they drew names and she's never won anything. Well, you guessed it, they drew my name for the autographed book. Now I feel obligated to read it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7760001964711585595?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7760001964711585595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7760001964711585595&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7760001964711585595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7760001964711585595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/04/mr-lucky.html' title='Mr. Lucky'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S8KHhC26MrI/AAAAAAAAEo4/tJ1LSR361-g/s72-c/One_Eternal_Round_Nibley_Rhodes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3850855152363105723</id><published>2010-03-21T21:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T21:34:27.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Boomer's Favorite Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S6bh4KQlZ-I/AAAAAAAAEow/63NLGEHcs_E/s1600-h/IMG_0794.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S6bh4KQlZ-I/AAAAAAAAEow/63NLGEHcs_E/s320/IMG_0794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451292753921402850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S6bh3vsdFPI/AAAAAAAAEoo/pANQ46a9Jms/s1600-h/IMG_0792.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S6bh3vsdFPI/AAAAAAAAEoo/pANQ46a9Jms/s320/IMG_0792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451292746790540530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boomer is a pretty good dog but he is somewhat, how shall I say it, wild. JoAnn likes to take him and Sadie for walks but he is so rambunctious that it is difficult. He barks all the way to the park and he whines and cries while JoAnn is getting them ready to go. He refuses to walk at a leisurely pace and instead, tries to pull her arm off. When Richie comes home from school, he tries to use Caesar Milan's tactics to tame him down (as has JoAnn before him) to no avail. Richie finally swore that he would no longer work with Boomer until he got neutered. JoAnn has been after me to take him to the vet for at least a year now. Well the day finally came. I knew what was in store for us; Boomer becoming a small bulldozer, using the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabethan_collar"&gt;Elizabethan Collar&lt;/a&gt; to push things out of the way including the lower legs of any human beings in the vicinity. He crashes into doorways especially often and usually is moving at full speed. In the first photo you can see the collar is beginning to split. He only wore the collar for about 6 days and I had to tape the split in the collar 3 times. Luckily, he is now healed , stitches are out, and life is back to normal. Dustin told me I should have had him fitted with &lt;a href="http://www.neuticles.com/facts.php"&gt;neuticles&lt;/a&gt;, but by that time, it was too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3850855152363105723?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3850855152363105723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3850855152363105723&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3850855152363105723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3850855152363105723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-boomer.html' title='Not Boomer&apos;s Favorite Day'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S6bh4KQlZ-I/AAAAAAAAEow/63NLGEHcs_E/s72-c/IMG_0794.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-5323240467971447094</id><published>2010-03-02T20:37:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T22:58:15.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Senta up to?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S43arL54OOI/AAAAAAAAEoQ/cIZ5ANhHKlM/s1600-h/GiveaHoot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S43arL54OOI/AAAAAAAAEoQ/cIZ5ANhHKlM/s320/GiveaHoot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444247960025577698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S43aqz4hNJI/AAAAAAAAEoI/PxTVRdAgOoA/s1600-h/Princess+Cricut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 174px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S43aqz4hNJI/AAAAAAAAEoI/PxTVRdAgOoA/s320/Princess+Cricut.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444247953577424018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the reasons I started this blog is because Senta had a blog and I loved to read it. She always had such great, creative stuff, it was wonderful. So, I figured if I loved to read Senta's blog, maybe my mother would like to read mine, which she says she does. Anywho, Senta is too busy these days to keep her blog up, which is a loss to the world. Since she hasn't posted lately, I thought I'd put some stuff on my blog that she has been doing. Besides working at SOS, she does a lot of freelance stuff, some of which is designing Cricut cartridges (whatever they are). She came over the other evening and was showing JoAnn a couple of cartridges she had designed so I guess I'll show you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-5323240467971447094?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/5323240467971447094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=5323240467971447094&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5323240467971447094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5323240467971447094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-is-senta-up-to.html' title='What is Senta up to?'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S43arL54OOI/AAAAAAAAEoQ/cIZ5ANhHKlM/s72-c/GiveaHoot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2413528805027978143</id><published>2010-02-22T20:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T20:40:09.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The BYU Museum of Art (MOA)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S4NLjOAFZaI/AAAAAAAAEn8/DGlnayPfOKE/s1600-h/Christhealingthesick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S4NLjOAFZaI/AAAAAAAAEn8/DGlnayPfOKE/s320/Christhealingthesick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441275843219645858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday, JoAnn and I went down to the BYU MOA. She has been reading a book entitled "The Healer's Art" by Lloyd D. Newell and Don H. Staheli. On the cover of the book is a painting titled "Christ Healing at the Well of Bethesda" by Carl Heinrich Bloch. The book talks about various aspects of Christ's healing powers and relates some of them to the painting. Anyway, the painting is in the BYU MOA so we went down to see it (the story of how the painting, a national treasure of Denmark, got to BYU MOA is fascinating). It was a great experience to be able to contemplate this work and some of the other great works that are on display. Did you know the BYU MOA has the world's largest collection of Maynard Dixon works? Probably not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, if anyone from the BYU MOA reads this, I did not get the photo from their web site so don't go tracking me down for copyright violations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-2413528805027978143?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2413528805027978143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2413528805027978143&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2413528805027978143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2413528805027978143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_22.html' title='The BYU Museum of Art (MOA)'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S4NLjOAFZaI/AAAAAAAAEn8/DGlnayPfOKE/s72-c/Christhealingthesick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2289126811150143287</id><published>2010-02-19T22:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T22:40:32.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun at the Burger King</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S39zPql0goI/AAAAAAAAEn0/M3vWuZbeBfg/s1600-h/0211002002.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S39zPql0goI/AAAAAAAAEn0/M3vWuZbeBfg/s320/0211002002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440193587855000194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As everyone knows, I always take PJ and usually Trey out to dinner and to the Walmart on Thursday evenings. This Thursday last, we went to the Burger King in Draper. The boys had the playground all to themselves and played for almost an hour. PJ started being silly and put on a bag instead of the BK crown. The reason he looks so funny is because I was trying to get him in a pose where I could see his face and the bag. As you can see, it took some contortions to get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-2289126811150143287?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2289126811150143287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2289126811150143287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2289126811150143287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2289126811150143287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/02/fun-at-burger-king.html' title='Fun at the Burger King'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S39zPql0goI/AAAAAAAAEn0/M3vWuZbeBfg/s72-c/0211002002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8019022628532391866</id><published>2010-02-08T21:16:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T23:25:10.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8019022628532391866?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8019022628532391866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8019022628532391866&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8019022628532391866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8019022628532391866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3201511897455312189</id><published>2010-02-08T21:16:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T21:26:31.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are We finished with Winter?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S3Dhvpg7LoI/AAAAAAAAEmk/HCk_-e8MKZg/s1600-h/Tim+L+winter+2010.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S3Dhvpg7LoI/AAAAAAAAEmk/HCk_-e8MKZg/s320/Tim+L+winter+2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436092958950239874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Looking at the &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/richiewilcox/StormOf2010?feat=content_notification#"&gt;photos&lt;/a&gt; taken by Richie this last weekend brought back fond memories of this winter's best snowstorms. We have actually had a fairly mild winter as far as snow goes. As far as temperature is concerned, we've had some very cold days and the inversions have been terrible. We're lucky here in Bluffdale that a significant number of folks have tractors and other assorted pieces of heavy equipment. Ron Johnson to the SE across the street has lots of equipment and has done a lot of work on the lane, winter and summer. Pictured above is Tim Llewellyn on his dad John's tractor scraping the snow off the driveway. As I recall, we only had about 5 or 6 inches, but when it is wet and heavy, it's a lot of work to remove. Now, in the second week of February, the snow has melted and the temperature is fairly mild. I hope it stays that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3201511897455312189?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3201511897455312189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3201511897455312189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3201511897455312189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3201511897455312189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/02/are-we-finished-with-winter.html' title='Are We finished with Winter?'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S3Dhvpg7LoI/AAAAAAAAEmk/HCk_-e8MKZg/s72-c/Tim+L+winter+2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1778115319901817524</id><published>2010-02-02T20:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T20:07:57.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker's Fourth Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S2jnN2P9g2I/AAAAAAAAEk4/Svi9u7DRxPI/s1600-h/IMG_0779.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S2jnN2P9g2I/AAAAAAAAEk4/Svi9u7DRxPI/s320/IMG_0779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433847175509279586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 22, 2010 was PJ's fourth birthday. I guess he had quite a celebration with the Grayson's at Chucky Cheese. The Wilcox sponsored birthday party was a lot quieter I'm sure; it was on Sunday, you know. We were going to have enchiladas but when JoAnn asked PJ what he wanted he replied "cheese pizza". So on Saturday, I went over to Papa Murphy's and got several pizzas including a cheese pizza so we could cook them on Sunday. However, when PJ arrived and was shown the cheese pizza, he definitely wanted chicken noodle soup. Senta made the lovely cake and the rest of us ate the pizza. For all of PJ's birthday photos, go to this &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/ParkerSFourthBirthday#"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1778115319901817524?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1778115319901817524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1778115319901817524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1778115319901817524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1778115319901817524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/02/parkers-fourth-birthday.html' title='Parker&apos;s Fourth Birthday'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S2jnN2P9g2I/AAAAAAAAEk4/Svi9u7DRxPI/s72-c/IMG_0779.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6610711858806767376</id><published>2010-01-23T21:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T21:38:01.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Christmas</title><content type='html'>Over the the Holidays, when Richie is home, we go out to eat as a family several times. We had a debate on where to go the Wednesday after Richie got home and really couldn't agree. What made it bad was it was a total blizzard outside so we didn't want to go far. We ended up going to Chili's in Riverton because it was close. PJ had a blue raspberry drink as you can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S1vNDwNTCrI/AAAAAAAAEjM/qCjpksnDrwA/s1600-h/PJ+and+blue+tongue.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S1vNDwNTCrI/AAAAAAAAEjM/qCjpksnDrwA/s320/PJ+and+blue+tongue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430159240089242290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure what day it was but one day we went to El Rancho Grande in Draper. The nice thing about this place is that it is never crowded. The food is also pretty good. PJ doesn't eat much of anything but we got him chicken fingers and fries. He was fascinated by the ketchup squirt bottle and spent most of his time carefully putting just the right amount of it on each fry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S1vNEIWASYI/AAAAAAAAEjU/NpLRrsdyfBs/s1600-h/PJ+and+ketchup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S1vNEIWASYI/AAAAAAAAEjU/NpLRrsdyfBs/s320/PJ+and+ketchup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430159246568212866" 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/8059321015821084355-6610711858806767376?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6610711858806767376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6610711858806767376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6610711858806767376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6610711858806767376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/01/more-christmas.html' title='More Christmas'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S1vNDwNTCrI/AAAAAAAAEjM/qCjpksnDrwA/s72-c/PJ+and+blue+tongue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3617409587683739440</id><published>2010-01-10T18:46:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T19:04:33.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Santa?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qDkUKUZHI/AAAAAAAAEic/fMGnTe6_yG8/s1600-h/IMG_9992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qDkUKUZHI/AAAAAAAAEic/fMGnTe6_yG8/s320/IMG_9992.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293361031701618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Christmas Eve 2009, so of course we go outside to look for Santa. The weatherman on the TV says Santa has been sighted on radar so we rush outside to look for him. PJ swears he saw Santa and who am I to doubt a nearly 4-year old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qDkCEau9I/AAAAAAAAEiU/75_aU454-8A/s1600-h/IMG_0716.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qDkCEau9I/AAAAAAAAEiU/75_aU454-8A/s320/IMG_0716.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293356175113170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Christmas time, even the dogs get into the act. Notice the holiday collars the the doggie treat Christmas presents. They're part of the family, aren't they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qGPf_5ViI/AAAAAAAAEi8/XzpihJQtNFg/s1600-h/IMG_0722.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qGPf_5ViI/AAAAAAAAEi8/XzpihJQtNFg/s320/IMG_0722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425296301966841378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qGPg2QooI/AAAAAAAAEjE/F8PHudIQs_M/s1600-h/IMG_0744.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qGPg2QooI/AAAAAAAAEjE/F8PHudIQs_M/s320/IMG_0744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425296302194860674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PJ got some Transformer toys and Spongebob pajamas. His two favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see all of the Wilcox Family photos, go to my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/Christmas2009#"&gt;picasa page&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3617409587683739440?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3617409587683739440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3617409587683739440&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3617409587683739440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3617409587683739440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2010/01/wheres-santa.html' title='Where&apos;s Santa?'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/S0qDkUKUZHI/AAAAAAAAEic/fMGnTe6_yG8/s72-c/IMG_9992.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7197127431722244430</id><published>2009-12-19T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T00:35:16.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyAgkBlDVI/AAAAAAAAETk/rpEZcG2tCtc/s1600-h/Parker+in+Pumpkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyAgkBlDVI/AAAAAAAAETk/rpEZcG2tCtc/s320/Parker+in+Pumpkins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416845748734332242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is almost Christmas and I am posting about choosing pumpkins. I guess I'm behind again. Anyway, we went to a different pumpkin patch this year and they had a bunch of old tractors for PJ to sit on and pretend to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyBi5VWPBI/AAAAAAAAETs/jA2iFA_PLaM/s1600-h/PJ+on+a+tractor.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyBi5VWPBI/AAAAAAAAETs/jA2iFA_PLaM/s320/PJ+on+a+tractor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416846888325757970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was hard for us to choose one pumpkin so we got a wheelbarrow and choose a bunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyB5foep2I/AAAAAAAAET0/5gZ9sHvUXU0/s1600-h/Choosing+a+Pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyB5foep2I/AAAAAAAAET0/5gZ9sHvUXU0/s320/Choosing+a+Pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416847276563670882" 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/8059321015821084355-7197127431722244430?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7197127431722244430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7197127431722244430&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7197127431722244430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7197127431722244430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/12/pumpkin-patch-2009.html' title='Pumpkin Patch 2009'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SyyAgkBlDVI/AAAAAAAAETk/rpEZcG2tCtc/s72-c/Parker+in+Pumpkins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4989503069784130252</id><published>2009-11-17T20:59:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T21:16:11.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Leaves</title><content type='html'>In my yard, there are a lot of trees. I mean a whole lot of trees; with big leaves; and they all fall to the ground every year. And they take their sweet time to do it. I don't know whether that is good or bad because in one way I'd like to take care of them all at once instead of over a month and a half but then again, if they all came down at the same time, we would probably either suffocate or get lost for a week trying to get out of the yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week on Veteran's Day, the last good weather day we had, I spent several hours mulching leaves on the west driveway. It gets especially bad there because the driveway is lined with hybrid poplars and they have a lot of very big leaves. In the past we've bagged them but this year I decided to mulch the lot. I usually mulch the leaves on the lawn but last year I bought a lawn vac to give it a try. I eventually took it back to Sears because it kept getting clogged up with the twigs that also come down. Man, the Sears' guys gave me dirty looks that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to Veteran's Day, after I mulched the leaves that had fallen on the driveway, I raked leaves out of the ditch and onto the driveway to mulch them. There was so many, I had to do it a couple of times (mind you, I've been mulching the leaves on the driveway every week for a month at this point). It was worse this year because my neighbor raked up the leaves which had fallen from my trees into his yard and dumped them back into my yard. I can't blame him really, I probably be unhappy with those leaves if I was him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This photo is the driveway covered with leaves for the third time in the same day and I have run the mower through the middle of the pile one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SwNzx29VA_I/AAAAAAAAEPM/YiFrJLOpCjc/s1600/IMG_0658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SwNzx29VA_I/AAAAAAAAEPM/YiFrJLOpCjc/s320/IMG_0658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405291278178255858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The photo below is the finished product. There are probably about 4 feet of leaves mulched on the driveway from this day alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SwN0tFBcVbI/AAAAAAAAEPU/OSMGun_UBvQ/s1600/IMG_0662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SwN0tFBcVbI/AAAAAAAAEPU/OSMGun_UBvQ/s320/IMG_0662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405292295565890994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to pray there is a good weather day this week to finish up the leaves on the lawn. I've mulched them about 5 times and I think 1 more should do the trick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-4989503069784130252?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4989503069784130252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4989503069784130252&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4989503069784130252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4989503069784130252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-hate-leaves.html' title='I Hate Leaves'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SwNzx29VA_I/AAAAAAAAEPM/YiFrJLOpCjc/s72-c/IMG_0658.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8327844799488356472</id><published>2009-11-07T21:11:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T21:37:49.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween 2009</title><content type='html'>Unfortunately, Dustin had to work on Halloween night so I was able to go join PJ and the Dukatz family as they trick or treated around their Riverton neighborhood. In case you wonder, PJ is Wolverine (as in X-men) and Trey is a ninja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF6z7Xt1I/AAAAAAAAEMQ/HRKYdc8zxDg/s1600-h/IMG_0640.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF6z7Xt1I/AAAAAAAAEMQ/HRKYdc8zxDg/s320/IMG_0640.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401581679751444306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZHic7srkI/AAAAAAAAENA/64hIklg9_ws/s1600-h/IMG_0643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZHic7srkI/AAAAAAAAENA/64hIklg9_ws/s320/IMG_0643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401583460285197890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After PJ's bag was so full he couldn't hardly carry it;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF7kYTdyI/AAAAAAAAEMg/uoqSHP1_mjo/s1600-h/IMG_0646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF7kYTdyI/AAAAAAAAEMg/uoqSHP1_mjo/s320/IMG_0646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401581692757702434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went over to Tata's (Senta's) house;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF8U4-tBI/AAAAAAAAEMo/jD-gFX67oOc/s1600-h/IMG_0647.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF8U4-tBI/AAAAAAAAEMo/jD-gFX67oOc/s320/IMG_0647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401581705779655698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we finally ended up at Nana's house;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF8vhKAMI/AAAAAAAAEMw/vIeI4G3bWso/s1600-h/IMG_0648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF8vhKAMI/AAAAAAAAEMw/vIeI4G3bWso/s320/IMG_0648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401581712927490242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where PJ smiles with the pumpkin Nana carved for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZHICqlqOI/AAAAAAAAEM4/OK1_pZEdFFk/s1600-h/IMG_0655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZHICqlqOI/AAAAAAAAEM4/OK1_pZEdFFk/s320/IMG_0655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401583006557513954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a look at all the Halloween photos, check out my my picasa site at this&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/Halloween2009#"&gt; link&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8327844799488356472?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8327844799488356472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8327844799488356472&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8327844799488356472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8327844799488356472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-2009.html' title='Halloween 2009'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SvZF6z7Xt1I/AAAAAAAAEMQ/HRKYdc8zxDg/s72-c/IMG_0640.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2618864358665530641</id><published>2009-10-30T23:26:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T23:32:38.357-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker &amp; Trey Painting Pumpkins</title><content type='html'>In a previous post, I mentioned that I had more photos of PJ and Trey. On this particular night, they used PJ's finger paints to decorate a couple of pumpkins. They started out fairly clean and quiet but ended up a little messy and loud. By the way, this is my second post of the evening. If you missed the previous post, scroll down and take a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SuvLk5F72lI/AAAAAAAAEMA/C442KyXuMIg/s1600-h/IMG_0618.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SuvLk5F72lI/AAAAAAAAEMA/C442KyXuMIg/s320/IMG_0618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398632412995115602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SuvLlSdaTuI/AAAAAAAAEMI/zupbxX-9_lE/s1600-h/IMG_0623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SuvLlSdaTuI/AAAAAAAAEMI/zupbxX-9_lE/s320/IMG_0623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398632419804466914" 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/8059321015821084355-2618864358665530641?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2618864358665530641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2618864358665530641&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2618864358665530641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2618864358665530641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/10/parker-trey-painting-pumpkins.html' title='Parker &amp; Trey Painting Pumpkins'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SuvLk5F72lI/AAAAAAAAEMA/C442KyXuMIg/s72-c/IMG_0618.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8133224019325855017</id><published>2009-10-30T20:39:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T20:44:42.841-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Rock House</title><content type='html'>I mentioned previously that I would post a photo of the framed etching of the Old Rock House that Sharon gave me. So here it is. To get a better view of the etching, click on it to enlarge. Also, if you look closely, you can see a reflection of the photographer in the glass, so don't look to closely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Suuj4TdbCuI/AAAAAAAAEL4/RoM1Ev88k70/s1600-h/IMG_0636%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Suuj4TdbCuI/AAAAAAAAEL4/RoM1Ev88k70/s320/IMG_0636%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398588766025353954" 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/8059321015821084355-8133224019325855017?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8133224019325855017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8133224019325855017&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8133224019325855017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8133224019325855017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/10/old-rock-house.html' title='The Old Rock House'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Suuj4TdbCuI/AAAAAAAAEL4/RoM1Ev88k70/s72-c/IMG_0636%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8457226650270983462</id><published>2009-10-18T23:08:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T23:21:12.003-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Matting and Framing Class</title><content type='html'>Something that has been on my mind for a number of years is that I've got some artwork that means a lot to me and I should get it framed. The only thing is, it costs a fortune to get anything framed, even if you have a 50% off coupon for Michael's or Robert's. I noticed in this semester's community education flyer that they were offering a Matting and Framing class. So I decided to take it so that I could get some things mounted and framed. The first piece I worked on was a pastel that Senta gave me for Father's Day a couple of years ago. I personally like how it turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Stv2S3N1WyI/AAAAAAAAEJk/BJBLTl5vUv0/s1600-h/IMG_0628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Stv2S3N1WyI/AAAAAAAAEJk/BJBLTl5vUv0/s320/IMG_0628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394175782626351906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The second piece is an etching of some kind that Sharon made of the Old Rock House in Fielding. It has been hanging on the wall of my Office for I don't know how many years, with just a ratty old mat. When I showed it to the class instructor, she just about went ballistic on how great it was. I'll post a photo of it when it is finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Stv3Azmu9NI/AAAAAAAAEJs/e8qoPjlX11w/s1600-h/IMG_0633.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Stv3Azmu9NI/AAAAAAAAEJs/e8qoPjlX11w/s320/IMG_0633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394176571931030738" 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/8059321015821084355-8457226650270983462?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8457226650270983462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8457226650270983462&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8457226650270983462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8457226650270983462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/10/matting-and-framing-class.html' title='Matting and Framing Class'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Stv2S3N1WyI/AAAAAAAAEJk/BJBLTl5vUv0/s72-c/IMG_0628.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3323726797774099355</id><published>2009-10-11T22:22:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T22:46:47.095-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been a Bad Boy</title><content type='html'>You're right, Mom, I have been a bad boy and haven't kept my blog up for awhile. This complaint from my dear Mother has caused me to rethink my priorities and get my life in order. I'm doing this by posting some photos to my blog. As usual, since our life revolves around the grandchild, most of the photos will be of PJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RODEO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last July, I think it was, PJ and I were over at the Green Park after dark. We could see lights and hear a crowd over at the rodeo grounds. When I realized that the rodeo was going on, I asked PJ if he wanted to go see the rodeo. He is usually game for anything so we walked over. Luckily for me the ticket booth was closed and we walked right in. Imagine my delight to see that the barrel races were just starting. In my opinion, there isn't anything better at a rodeo than the barrel racers, and I don't say that just because JoAnn used to be a barrel racer. I know this photo is blurry, but it was the best I could do with a cellphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKxlR0jmMI/AAAAAAAAEI8/uttHeGuxMao/s1600-h/Bluffdale+Rodeo+2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKxlR0jmMI/AAAAAAAAEI8/uttHeGuxMao/s320/Bluffdale+Rodeo+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391566957913020610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PRESCHOOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This September, PJ started preschool with Trey. I think the school is somewhere in Herriman. Anyway, PJ was pretty proud of himself for not crying the first day although he did admit he was a little sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKxluvmbzI/AAAAAAAAEJE/Aar5igmvgAM/s1600-h/First+day+of+Preschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKxluvmbzI/AAAAAAAAEJE/Aar5igmvgAM/s320/First+day+of+Preschool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391566965676863282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PJ &amp;amp; TREY ON THURSDAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm sure you know, JoAnn and I watch PJ every Thursday night.  As of late, PJ's best friend, PJ and Trey have been asking if Trey can come along. I almost always say yes because they get along so well and play together so well that, in some ways it is easier for me. The first photo is in the sandbox (duh), the second is at the gas station where they delight in making a mess, I mean washing the windows, and the third is them taking a tandem ride on one of the Walmart amusement rides. Luckily, there is no one to police the area or I'm sure we would have been in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKyv3a5ObI/AAAAAAAAEJM/iUjNig9SBYw/s1600-h/PJ+and+Trey+Sandbox+2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKyv3a5ObI/AAAAAAAAEJM/iUjNig9SBYw/s320/PJ+and+Trey+Sandbox+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391568239316253106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKywvl5SzI/AAAAAAAAEJc/-GRnb-yZvQ0/s1600-h/Parker+and+Trey+Window+Washing+2009.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKywvl5SzI/AAAAAAAAEJc/-GRnb-yZvQ0/s320/Parker+and+Trey+Window+Washing+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391568254394780466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKywKMU2II/AAAAAAAAEJU/m6ClmzdrEGs/s1600-h/Parker+and+Trey+Walmart+Ride+2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKywKMU2II/AAAAAAAAEJU/m6ClmzdrEGs/s320/Parker+and+Trey+Walmart+Ride+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391568244355422338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got some others but it is late and my c-pap machine is calling my name.  I 'll try to do better, Mom, I swear I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3323726797774099355?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3323726797774099355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3323726797774099355&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3323726797774099355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3323726797774099355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/10/ive-been-bad-boy.html' title='I&apos;ve Been a Bad Boy'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/StKxlR0jmMI/AAAAAAAAEI8/uttHeGuxMao/s72-c/Bluffdale+Rodeo+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-9130172060751071404</id><published>2009-09-14T20:48:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T21:05:46.784-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden Spike Journey</title><content type='html'>When Richie was home in August (we only do fun things when Richie is home), we decided to take a trip to the Golden Spike Historical Monument, with a stop at the Hill Air Force Base Museum. The trip started out with a massive traffic jam in North Salt Lake (it took 45 minutes to go two miles). It was 98 degrees, and the AC was off because the temperature gauge was going up a too much for my liking. It was amazing to me what a good traveler PJ was that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8ByPcTVGI/AAAAAAAAEH0/K5ZxuUDqM7U/s1600-h/_MG_9689.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 97px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8ByPcTVGI/AAAAAAAAEH0/K5ZxuUDqM7U/s320/_MG_9689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381522042381358178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8BqAcALaI/AAAAAAAAEHs/nNKA24ZzdoE/s1600-h/_MG_9690.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 103px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8BqAcALaI/AAAAAAAAEHs/nNKA24ZzdoE/s320/_MG_9690.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521900914617762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing the number and kinds of aircraft they have at the HAFBM. If anyone is interested in planes of any kind, it is a great place to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8Cj5jaI4I/AAAAAAAAEIE/9XVA6JxPpls/s1600-h/IMG_9745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8Cj5jaI4I/AAAAAAAAEIE/9XVA6JxPpls/s320/IMG_9745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381522895499043714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8CjgMXxsI/AAAAAAAAEH8/vk3P_slOA04/s1600-h/IMG_9732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8CjgMXxsI/AAAAAAAAEH8/vk3P_slOA04/s320/IMG_9732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381522888691533506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We barely made it to the Golden Spike for the moving of the trains. It wasn't a show of the driving of the spike, they just moved the trains up and down the tracks a couple of times. They warn you to cover your ears when they blow the whistle because it is very LOUD! By the way, there are no photos of Richie because he had the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8DrQjri9I/AAAAAAAAEIU/WkPvL_ePYZs/s1600-h/_MG_9759.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8DrQjri9I/AAAAAAAAEIU/WkPvL_ePYZs/s320/_MG_9759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381524121444912082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8DrPJnxGI/AAAAAAAAEIM/jS9cJcVyhO0/s1600-h/IMG_9772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8DrPJnxGI/AAAAAAAAEIM/jS9cJcVyhO0/s320/IMG_9772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381524121067177058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8Dr-4P16I/AAAAAAAAEIc/I9Ys8AVjsWU/s1600-h/_MG_9768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 85px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8Dr-4P16I/AAAAAAAAEIc/I9Ys8AVjsWU/s320/_MG_9768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381524133879207842" 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/8059321015821084355-9130172060751071404?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/9130172060751071404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=9130172060751071404&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9130172060751071404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9130172060751071404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/09/golden-spike-journey.html' title='Golden Spike Journey'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sq8ByPcTVGI/AAAAAAAAEH0/K5ZxuUDqM7U/s72-c/_MG_9689.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6181837731972086277</id><published>2009-08-17T22:14:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T22:34:34.235-06:00</updated><title type='text'>City Weekly Cover Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Soorga-WTjI/AAAAAAAAEGA/2LoNA5oVR6s/s1600-h/12500858754a82cbf32b02e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Soorga-WTjI/AAAAAAAAEGA/2LoNA5oVR6s/s320/12500858754a82cbf32b02e.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371153341589376562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone in this 4-part photograph look familiar? No? Look carefully at the handsome face in the upper lefthand corner. Do you recognize him? It's Greg! Yes our own Greg Wilcox made the cover of City Weekly (CW), the local liberal rag in SLC. Now the question is, how did he make the cover of CW? Well, he was an intern at CW this summer (they told him he was the best intern they have ever had). I guess the art director needed a good looking face for the cover, and he was in. He also wrote an&lt;a href="http://npaper-wehaa.com/cityweekly#2009/08/13/?article=493719"&gt; article&lt;/a&gt; for the paper; check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/RICHIE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/RICHIE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6181837731972086277?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6181837731972086277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6181837731972086277&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6181837731972086277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6181837731972086277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-weekly-cover-story.html' title='City Weekly Cover Story'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Soorga-WTjI/AAAAAAAAEGA/2LoNA5oVR6s/s72-c/12500858754a82cbf32b02e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4018332205427341360</id><published>2009-08-11T22:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T22:51:12.568-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day's of 47 Youth Parade</title><content type='html'>As it got close to the 24th of July (Utah State holiday), JoAnn had the great idea of taking PJ to the Youth Parade. I was actually OK with it because it happened to start on the street in front of the building where I work (I knew I could get a good parking spot). I also knew that it wouldn't be as long and tedious as the main Day's of 47 Parade which I hated as a child. One thing that didn't change, it was hot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJH4QTpNdI/AAAAAAAAEFg/spjjL_UeY1o/s1600-h/Days+of+47+Youth+Parade.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJH4QTpNdI/AAAAAAAAEFg/spjjL_UeY1o/s320/Days+of+47+Youth+Parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368932737554658770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After the parade, there was a big carnival at Washington Square where all the climbing and jumping things were free. I heard later that it was for the parade participants, but I didn't know that when we took PJ over. You may remember I lamented the fact that PJ didn't get to get in one of the "jumping things" at Bluffdale Town Days. He was so excited to get in the jumping thing at the post parade carnival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJIf2LnzEI/AAAAAAAAEFo/P3IIydRCN9k/s1600-h/Jumping+Thing.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJIf2LnzEI/AAAAAAAAEFo/P3IIydRCN9k/s320/Jumping+Thing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368933417736457282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were also big inflatable slides where you had to climb up the back of the slide using foot holes and hand holds to grab on. PJ amazed me by climbing up one slide that was about 15 feet tall and had flimsy hand holds at best. He is definitely a climber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJIgVOI2uI/AAAAAAAAEFw/BKQap98Bpi4/s1600-h/Spiderman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJIgVOI2uI/AAAAAAAAEFw/BKQap98Bpi4/s320/Spiderman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368933426068511458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I mentioned above, it was a hot day. When we got in the car to come home, the outside temperature gauge read 104 degrees. When we got home, JoAnn filled a trough with water for the dogs but PJ wanted wanted to get in first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJJ6tiKvJI/AAAAAAAAEF4/upGWdU4r6Ys/s1600-h/Backyard+Swim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJJ6tiKvJI/AAAAAAAAEF4/upGWdU4r6Ys/s320/Backyard+Swim.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368934978783198354" 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/8059321015821084355-4018332205427341360?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4018332205427341360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4018332205427341360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4018332205427341360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4018332205427341360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/08/days-of-47-youth-parade.html' title='Day&apos;s of 47 Youth Parade'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SoJH4QTpNdI/AAAAAAAAEFg/spjjL_UeY1o/s72-c/Days+of+47+Youth+Parade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7885240579376324744</id><published>2009-08-03T20:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T20:45:42.404-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Moral Set Point?</title><content type='html'>When I read this article, it rang true. Probably because I see so may supposedly good LDS members in the Utah State Legislature who are so unethical.  &lt;p style="margin: 1em 0px 3px;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" href="http://scienceandreligiontoday.blogspot.com/2009/06/do-we-have-moral-set-point.html" name="1222e1e4e9ba8675_1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 1em 0px 3px;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" href="http://scienceandreligiontoday.blogspot.com/2009/06/do-we-have-moral-set-point.html" name="1222e1e4e9ba8675_1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 1em 0px 3px;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" href="http://scienceandreligiontoday.blogspot.com/2009/06/do-we-have-moral-set-point.html" name="1222e1e4e9ba8675_1" target="_blank"&gt;Do We Have a Moral Set Point?&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 9px 0px 3px; line-height: 140%; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Posted:&lt;/span&gt; 26 Jun 2009 09:11 PM PDT&lt;/p&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4yND9fPzue0/SkUDpQcHAiI/AAAAAAAACB4/sI34TSBn3ec/s1600-h/arrow.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 96px; float: left; height: 173px;" alt="" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=c1ed2f80bd&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=1222e1e4e9ba8675&amp;amp;attid=0.1.2&amp;amp;disp=emb&amp;amp;zw" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;A few years ago, psychologist &lt;a href="http://www.nmr.mgh.harvard.edu/retreat99/retreat99_blurbs/Nancy_Etcoff.html" target="_blank"&gt;Nancy Etcoff&lt;/a&gt; wrote a &lt;a href="http://www.science-spirit.org/article_detail.php?article_id=596" target="_blank"&gt;piece for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Science &amp;amp; Spirit&lt;/span&gt; magazine&lt;/a&gt; in which she explained that "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;while feelings of happiness change from day to day, depending on the circumstances, people seem to have a stable midpoint to these variations, a general level of happiness to which they return after momentary irritation or elation fades. Scientists call this the 'hedonic set point' or happiness thermostat." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;So I was interested to read about a &lt;a href="http://www3.interscience.wiley.com/journal/122269055/abstract" target="_blank"&gt;recent study&lt;/a&gt; from a group of researchers at Northwestern University who suggest we have a set point for morality as well. They ran a bunch of experiments to see how our sense of moral self-worth affects our behavior.&lt;br /&gt;According to the scientists, people who behave immorally in one aspect of their lives tend to "cleanse" themselves by performing good deeds in other areas. But their model goes further, &lt;a href="http://www.northwestern.edu/newscenter/stories/2009/06/sinners.html" target="_blank"&gt;as a write-up of the research reports&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;Other studies have shown the moral-cleansing effect, but this new Northwestern model shows that the cleansing also has to do with restoring an ideal level of moral self-worth. In other words, when people operate above or below a certain level of moral self-worth, they instinctively push back in the opposite direction to reach an internally regulated set point of goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;If they're right, the opposite of the cleansing effect would also hold true: Performing a series of good deeds would raise our moral self-worth, thus leading us to do some not-so-good stuff to balance things out. That's just what psychology graduate student Sonya Sachdeva, who worked on the study, suggests. "Imagine a line on a plane," she says. "The only way you can come back down is either by refraining from good social behavior or by actively engaging in immoral behavior."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7885240579376324744?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7885240579376324744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7885240579376324744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7885240579376324744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7885240579376324744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/08/moral-set-point.html' title='Moral Set Point?'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2877907449668008664</id><published>2009-07-27T21:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T21:46:31.327-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Petting Zoo and Pony Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_o8Rn4I/AAAAAAAAEEw/Mv3mo2MuKzk/s1600-h/Pony+Ride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_o8Rn4I/AAAAAAAAEEw/Mv3mo2MuKzk/s320/Pony+Ride.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363350643892395906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_QzBGFI/AAAAAAAAEEo/pT7zVkBzM0o/s1600-h/Petting+Zoo+1.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_QzBGFI/AAAAAAAAEEo/pT7zVkBzM0o/s320/Petting+Zoo+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363350637411113042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A couple of weeks ago, JoAnn, Senta, and I took PJ to the Gardner Village Petting Zoo. To tell the truth, JoAnn and Senta had as much, if not more, fun than did PJ. Ever since that day, JoAnn has been thinking about getting a pony with a cart for PJ to ride in. She apparently had a childhood friend who had a pony with a cart and they had lots of fun. I am somewhat dubious because she also had a pony when she was a kid and she told me plenty of horror stories about it when we were dating (the pony was smart enough to open any gate and her dad was always in a battle with it). Anyway, after the petting zoo, the girls went shopping and the boys went to the snack bar, just the way it was meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_6OM9TI/AAAAAAAAEE4/TideeV3cdPw/s1600-h/Doughnut+at+Gardner+Village.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_6OM9TI/AAAAAAAAEE4/TideeV3cdPw/s320/Doughnut+at+Gardner+Village.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363350648530990386" 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/8059321015821084355-2877907449668008664?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2877907449668008664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2877907449668008664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2877907449668008664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2877907449668008664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/07/petting-zoo-and-pony-ride.html' title='Petting Zoo and Pony Ride'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sm5y_o8Rn4I/AAAAAAAAEEw/Mv3mo2MuKzk/s72-c/Pony+Ride.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-9139520815942957928</id><published>2009-07-22T23:24:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:43:19.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Study</title><content type='html'>Sometime last year, one of JoAnn's doctors asked her if she was getting enough sleep. Of course she wasn't and the Dr. asked if her husband's snoring ever woke her up. Of course she said yes and the Dr. recommended that her husband endure a sleep study. So, after she bugged me about for several months, I asked my Dr. about it and he sent a referral to the Sleep Institute, and I was soon scheduled for an interview with the sleep Dr., who, by some quirk of fate, was the original Dr. who recommended the sleep study to JoAnn. After the interview, I was scheduled for a night to sleep at the sleep institute which is, how strange is this, at the Dr.'s office. When I got there, I was hooked up to a myriad of wires and tubes and expected to sleep the night away. The photo doesn't show all the sensors later stuck up my nose.  After the results were reviewed, the Dr. said I had severe obstructive sleep apnea (not good). I then had to go back in and get hooked up to the wires one more time and sleep with an air pressure mask to see how it worked. The photos are me hooked up to the wires and a shot of the wires going into the computer. I'm actually looking forward to sleeping with the sleep machine (c-pap). It would be nice to wake up in the morning and feel good. We'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Smf2Vjaq-RI/AAAAAAAAEEY/1pihXt0MXoc/s1600-h/Sleep+Study.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Smf2Vjaq-RI/AAAAAAAAEEY/1pihXt0MXoc/s320/Sleep+Study.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361524731552659730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Smf2V4JDWDI/AAAAAAAAEEg/PoK7bCWiYBk/s1600-h/Sleep+Study+2.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Smf2V4JDWDI/AAAAAAAAEEg/PoK7bCWiYBk/s320/Sleep+Study+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361524737115904050" 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/8059321015821084355-9139520815942957928?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/9139520815942957928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=9139520815942957928&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9139520815942957928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9139520815942957928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/07/sleep-study.html' title='Sleep Study'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Smf2Vjaq-RI/AAAAAAAAEEY/1pihXt0MXoc/s72-c/Sleep+Study.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8707263763407700685</id><published>2009-07-10T11:04:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T16:10:18.071-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Way Back in June</title><content type='html'>Way back in June, when Richie was visiting, we had big plans for Saturday. We were going to go down to the clay pits on the west side of Utah Lake and collect fossil rocks for JoAnn's class, and then we were going to go to the Scottish Festival at Thanksgiving Point. Since we were planning on having lots of fun, I went and picked PJ up from the Grayson's at about 10 AM and brought him back to Bluffdale. We realized that we probably wouldn't leave until about noon so I took PJ over to Bluffdale Town Days which was being held at the park. When we got there, he wanted to sit in the sports car and the National Guard helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNOxupx8I/AAAAAAAAECc/azL2kiX29Ao/s1600-h/Town+Days+2009.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNOxupx8I/AAAAAAAAECc/azL2kiX29Ao/s320/Town+Days+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357327779252258754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNO9xoqyI/AAAAAAAAECk/lBxzrPoqo68/s1600-h/Town+Days+Apache+2009.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNO9xoqyI/AAAAAAAAECk/lBxzrPoqo68/s320/Town+Days+Apache+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357327782485994274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then wanted to get on one of the "jumping things", the inflatable, enclosed play areas that kids bounce around in. Anyway, we went to the area with the "jumping things" and were told that we had to go buy a wristband. So we headed out in search of a place to buy wristbands but couldn't find one. In the meantime, he spotted the antique tractors and wanted to go play on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNfXRvLYI/AAAAAAAAECs/TMN8PIcu9tc/s1600-h/0613091254.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNfXRvLYI/AAAAAAAAECs/TMN8PIcu9tc/s320/0613091254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357328064209431938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he drove every one of them, it was time to go home and load up for the excursion. As we left home, the clouds were getting dark to the south and as we drove through the terrible traffic in Saratoga Springs, it started pouring rain. It rained harder and harder and we finally had to turn around when we realized that even if we went to the clay pits, it was going to be very muddy. When we finally got home, the power was out so we couldn't go back to the park because the "jumping things" had all collapsed. By the time the power came back on and we went back to the park, the "jumping things" had been folded up and put away. Ever since then, when we drive past the park, he looks at me and with a sad voice says "no jumping things today".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8707263763407700685?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8707263763407700685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8707263763407700685&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8707263763407700685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8707263763407700685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/07/way-back-in-june.html' title='Way Back in June'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SlkNOxupx8I/AAAAAAAAECc/azL2kiX29Ao/s72-c/Town+Days+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2543218423987191530</id><published>2009-06-29T23:06:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:38:07.303-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fleetwood Mac</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SkmddB4ITMI/AAAAAAAAD7E/rK2OSuBU2xA/s1600-h/0603092006a.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SkmddB4ITMI/AAAAAAAAD7E/rK2OSuBU2xA/s320/0603092006a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352982754152172738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hey look, it's me, JoAnn, and Greg at a Fleetwood Mac concert in the ESA on May 27th.  FM is JoAnn's favorite band and while they are not my favorite, I learned a couple of years ago that they put on a spectacular concert. The last time we went, a couple of years ago, we had upper bowl tickets, but when we got to the arena, they took our tickets and replaced them with lower bowl tickets because the arena hadn't sold enough tickets to even open the upper bowl. Must have made the people who purchased the lower bowl seats for more money mad. This time they weren't even selling upper bowl tickets. Anyway, the concert was on the night when Richie was arriving from DC. I asked Greg if he would pick up Richie at the airport and he said no way, he wanted to go to the concert. It seems he had grown up listening to FM on our trips to Arizona and other places and was a fan, so I bought him a ticket and asked Senta to go to the airport. Well, FM played their butts off for 2½ very enjoyable hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before we went into the concert, Richie called and said his plane had been delayed because of weather. They had been sitting on the runway for about 4 hours and hoped to take off soon. I eventually picked him up myself since he didn't arrive at the airport until about 1 AM. He was supposed to arrive at 8:30 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SkmgQmV9SkI/AAAAAAAAD7M/cd9JwGCxO4U/s1600-h/0603092058.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SkmgQmV9SkI/AAAAAAAAD7M/cd9JwGCxO4U/s320/0603092058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352985839137540674" 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/8059321015821084355-2543218423987191530?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2543218423987191530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2543218423987191530&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2543218423987191530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2543218423987191530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/06/fleetwood-mac.html' title='Fleetwood Mac'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SkmddB4ITMI/AAAAAAAAD7E/rK2OSuBU2xA/s72-c/0603092006a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7749600038717103432</id><published>2009-06-12T18:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T18:58:58.031-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oquirrh Mountain Temple</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SjL4SB6a3YI/AAAAAAAADpE/wAXDbXgHFEg/s1600-h/Temple.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SjL4SB6a3YI/AAAAAAAADpE/wAXDbXgHFEg/s320/Temple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346608696276999554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Wednesday, we took the opportunity to attend the open house for the Oquirrh Mountain Temple in South Jordan. Dustin and PJ live pretty close to the Temple and drive by it on a regular basis. Dustin has told PJ that the Temple is "Jesus' House".  PJ told JoAnn a couple of weeks ago that he drove past Jesus' House so he knows where he lives. The funny thing was that as we went though the Temple, PJ kept asking Dustin "where Jesus". Knowing Dustin's sense of humor, he probably told him Jesus had to go to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7749600038717103432?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7749600038717103432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7749600038717103432&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7749600038717103432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7749600038717103432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/06/oquirrh-mountain-temple.html' title='Oquirrh Mountain Temple'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SjL4SB6a3YI/AAAAAAAADpE/wAXDbXgHFEg/s72-c/Temple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7357267076176624185</id><published>2009-05-27T21:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T21:56:27.494-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dog Walkers (and sometimes flyers)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sh4GF0bOqKI/AAAAAAAADn0/Ur7ENgAolXU/s1600-h/Walking+the+dogs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sh4GF0bOqKI/AAAAAAAADn0/Ur7ENgAolXU/s320/Walking+the+dogs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340712905149950114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of our favorite TV shows is the Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan. The guy is amazing! The changes he can make dogs undergo are incredible. Anyway, JoAnn has been working with our dogs (Boomer; Sadie does everything well), to get them to do a regular dog walk. Boomer just gets so excited. He cries and barks all the way to the park, and then he just pulls and pulls. JoAnn has made a lot of progress with him and on this particular day, PJ took Sadie's leash while JoAnn worked with Boomer. A couple of weeks later, PJ had Sadie's leash when, for some reason, Sadie just bolted. I'm told PJ literally went flying. He tells the story now that he went flying like Buzz Lightyear. He also says he wants to do it again but this time he won't cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7357267076176624185?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7357267076176624185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7357267076176624185&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7357267076176624185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7357267076176624185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/05/dog-walkers-and-sometimes-flyers.html' title='The Dog Walkers (and sometimes flyers)'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sh4GF0bOqKI/AAAAAAAADn0/Ur7ENgAolXU/s72-c/Walking+the+dogs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8759170280085252788</id><published>2009-05-03T21:43:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T15:52:14.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Hunt Panel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-AMmFvI/AAAAAAAADnI/OQWHU5_HMfw/s1600-h/IMG_0011.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-AMmFvI/AAAAAAAADnI/OQWHU5_HMfw/s320/IMG_0011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331814423267251954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agency I work for manages some 3.4 million acres which are mostly scattered around the state in one mile square sections. With that much land, there are bound to be some interesting things on some of the parcels. The first time I saw the Great Hunt Panel, was about 15 years ago and it was so close to the road, you could almost reach out the window and touch it. The Panel is located in Cottonwood Canyon which intersects with Nine Mile Canyon. Nine Mile Canyon is world famous for its petroglyphs and the Great Hunt Panel may be the most famous of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sg81cdmsThI/AAAAAAAADns/wF5xOdh-aKA/s1600-h/GREAT+HUNT+ENGRAVED+PLAQUE_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sg81cdmsThI/AAAAAAAADns/wF5xOdh-aKA/s320/GREAT+HUNT+ENGRAVED+PLAQUE_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336542846556851730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago, when oil &amp;amp; gas activity was increasing, the agency got with the county and the lessee to realign the road to get it away from the panel. We then attempted to spruce it up with some fencing and some signs. The first attempt at this by the county failed so miserably, it was torn out and removed altogether. After a couple of years of not being able to find anyone to do the job, the two foresters who work for me, &lt;a href="http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/12/thirty-first-year.html"&gt;Adam Robison and Cary Zielinsky&lt;/a&gt;,  were enlisted to do it. After several weeks of planning, and a couple of weeks of hard labor by them and lots of other agency folks and volunteers, and lots of bitching and moaning by the auditors and accountants, a very nice thing happened to the panel; it is now protected and is a very nice place to visit. As always, click on the photos for a better view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-wLljuI/AAAAAAAADng/yBJvHgYbScY/s1600-h/IMG_0021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-wLljuI/AAAAAAAADng/yBJvHgYbScY/s320/IMG_0021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331814436147924706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-jWLEwI/AAAAAAAADnY/IKB1LSSC4jE/s1600-h/IMG_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-jWLEwI/AAAAAAAADnY/IKB1LSSC4jE/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331814432702665474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-SuslVI/AAAAAAAADnQ/gaThyNjYgTc/s1600-h/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-SuslVI/AAAAAAAADnQ/gaThyNjYgTc/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331814428242122066" 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/8059321015821084355-8759170280085252788?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8759170280085252788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8759170280085252788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8759170280085252788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8759170280085252788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/05/great-hunt-panel.html' title='The Great Hunt Panel'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5o-AMmFvI/AAAAAAAADnI/OQWHU5_HMfw/s72-c/IMG_0011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3376431231765290224</id><published>2009-05-03T21:14:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T22:06:11.163-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ Colors Easter Eggs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5g65h6OlI/AAAAAAAADm4/C9iudwuO9q4/s1600-h/PJ+easter+2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5g65h6OlI/AAAAAAAADm4/C9iudwuO9q4/s320/PJ+easter+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331805573844974162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5gKpubPCI/AAAAAAAADmw/8RN5iVessGk/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5gKpubPCI/AAAAAAAADmw/8RN5iVessGk/s320/IMG_0461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331804744968780834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its long past Easter and I have been neglecting my blog duties. So sue me. Anyway, last year PJ wasn't all that interested in coloring Easter eggs so JoAnn was kind of half-hearted about it this year. Senta came over and colored all the eggs but 3 which she saved for PJ. To our surprise, when PJ saw the eggs and the process, he was so excited that he made Senta help him recolor all the eggs that had already been colored. He had so much fun that JoAnn and Senta scheduled a second round of Easter Eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Easter Sunday, we got PJ a toy lawnmower. The reason we did was that we had some old photos lying around that PJ loves to look at. One day he picked up a photo and said "where my lawnmower go?" A year ago, we had taken some shots of Dustin and PJ giving Boomer a bath. In the background, barely visible, was his old lawnmower which had fallen apart and been thrown away (see PJ and the Dirty Dogs from July 8, 2008). The boy loves to mow the lawn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5iOv30w0I/AAAAAAAADnA/Hdi7yBaSsY4/s1600-h/IMG_0456.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5iOv30w0I/AAAAAAAADnA/Hdi7yBaSsY4/s320/IMG_0456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331807014361547586" 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/8059321015821084355-3376431231765290224?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3376431231765290224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3376431231765290224&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3376431231765290224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3376431231765290224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/05/pj-colors-easter-eggs.html' title='PJ Colors Easter Eggs'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/Sf5g65h6OlI/AAAAAAAADm4/C9iudwuO9q4/s72-c/PJ+easter+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7148352642097062263</id><published>2009-04-05T21:18:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T22:06:39.298-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's Nightmare</title><content type='html'>During the course of a typical week, we get to have PJ over on Thursday night. Dustin either drops him off before going to work or I pick him up at Dustin's. When I pick him up, the first thing we do is go to Wendy's or McDonald's whoever has the best toy. After dinner, we go to Walmart where I get some groceries, usually dog food, strawberries for Nana, and a small bottle of strawberry milk for him and chocolate milk for me. After we check out, we have to go to the playroom where they have three rides for kids. One is the boar from the Lion King, one is a jeep with a monkey and elephant as passengers, and the last one is a helicopter. PJ insists on putting the quarters in the slots himself and has ridden them so many times that he gets bored so he climbs out on the front of the rides (I'll take a photo next time and attach it). By the time we get back it is fairly late and has been very dark (in the winter). When we get home I turn on the lights in the back and we go feed and water the chickens and sheep. PJ likes the sheep and calls them Budgie Boy and Mattie (Mudge and Maggie). However Mudge is quite loud when he is hungry and I think in the dark that PJ gets a little frightened. Several weeks ago, Dustin and PJ slept over Thursday night and he must have had a nightmare because ever since then, he talks about the time Mudge came in the house and tried to get him. When we're downstairs, he points to the door of the bedroom and says "this is where Budge came in and my Daddy shut the door". When we're in the family room he will point to the door and say "that is where Budge came in to get me". I try and discourage these thoughts by telling him that Mudge can't open the door because he doesn't have hands and fingers. At that, PJ will laugh and say "yea, he just has black feet". But a few minutes later, he will again describe the time Budge came in to get him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he will remember this nightmare all his life like I remember the nightmare I had when I was his age. The terror of my nightmare was a panda bear. I remember standing behind a screen door and watching the pandas coming to get me. If anyone else out there has a favorite nightmare they want to share, be sure and post it for all the rest of us to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7148352642097062263?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7148352642097062263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7148352642097062263&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7148352642097062263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7148352642097062263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/04/pjs-nightmare.html' title='PJ&apos;s Nightmare'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6506859277070119956</id><published>2009-03-23T22:44:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T23:39:58.642-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Expensive Dog</title><content type='html'>In January of 2005, we acquired a black lab puppy from a neighbor. We needed a dog because our huge golden retriever, Rocky, died over the holidays. We were visiting JoAnn's mother in Mesa, Arizona for Christmas, when we received word from our neighbor, Ray Butler, who was feeding the dogs,  that Rocky was nearing the end of his life. He had been in poor health for a couple of months, but we didn't think he would go so fast. Since Dustin was the one he had most bonded with, we put him on a plane so he could take care of Rocky at the end. Rocky did die shortly thereafter, and Dustin and a friend buried him in the pasture. Rocky was a huge dog and that is probably what did him in at a relatively young age, he was only 6 or 7 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchpF5hoeoI/AAAAAAAADfU/jnUMEI9Phlw/s1600-h/DSC00006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchpF5hoeoI/AAAAAAAADfU/jnUMEI9Phlw/s320/DSC00006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316614910173018754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a photo of Rocky who is bigger than JoAnn. He certainly weighed more. The nurses at the vet were always amazed when we brought him in. My favorite Rocky story happened before he was neutered and gained so much weight. He kept running off to the neighbors who had a female dog in heat. So I put a rope through his collar and tied him to a post which was inside a small fenced area just off the garage. When I went to check on him, all that was left was the collar tied to the rope. Sure enough, I found him over at the neighbors flirting with their female dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchqdMIAOVI/AAAAAAAADfc/gnjwbGLZYg8/s1600-h/2005-02-24+005.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchqdMIAOVI/AAAAAAAADfc/gnjwbGLZYg8/s320/2005-02-24+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316616409814415698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, back to the black lab puppy we named Boomer. This is a photo of Boomer with Sadie shortly after we got him. He is now about twice Sadie's size. I think he got the name "Boomer" because when we were in Arizona, Ida was having trouble with the plumbing in one of the bathrooms. She hired an acquaintance named Boomer to fix the problem. He was a weird and funny guy and I think the name "Boomer" just kind of stuck in Dustin's head and that is what he named him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got Boomer for free. His owner had about 10 puppies he had to get rid of and he wanted to do it fast. Boomer was very young when we got him, just barely weaned. JoAnn thought about giving him back, he cried so much. Even though his initial cost was cheap, he has been a very expensive dog. The first time we took him for a ride in the car, he jumped out when we were going about 30 mph. He was OK but it resulted in his first trip to the vet. He has a problem with allergies which manifests itself in ear infections. When his ears get infected, he scratches them. When he scratches them they bleed. Then he shakes his head violently and blood gets sprayed everywhere. Before we got this figured out, he had done so much damage to the ear, the vet tried at least twice to bandage the ear to his head so he couldn't flail it around. The bandage never lasted more than about 8 hours. Eventually,  the vet had to put a piece of cardboard on it and stitch the ear to the cardboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To resolve the problem, we found a non-allergenic dog food (expensive) that we hoped would put an end to his ear problems. After about a week, we found him on the floor one morning, unable to move. According to the vet, he was severely dehydrated. He spent the night with the vet before he could move again. Now, we use a commercial ear wash weekly and a couple times a month, I use a product most often reserved for human females with yeast infections and inject it in his ears. It really works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, you read about his cold water tail. Shortly after he had recovered from that, JoAnn came home to find him limping badly, not putting any weight on his right front paw. A day later, since he was no better I made an appointment with the vet for the next day, a Friday. PJ had stayed the night so we took Boomer to the "doggy doctor" where they did an x-ray. As we sat in the exam room, I heard the lab technician exclaim "that explains a lot!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchvF_mxWgI/AAAAAAAADfk/umLrQdA55dA/s1600-h/IMG_0443.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchvF_mxWgI/AAAAAAAADfk/umLrQdA55dA/s320/IMG_0443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316621508874951170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a photo of Boomer after his emergency surgery to remove a two-inch piece of wire from his foot. It wasn't sticking out where they could pull it out with plyers, it was completely embedded; they had to dig it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchvnbMSfAI/AAAAAAAADfs/ibSeIV1Lkdk/s1600-h/IMG_0445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchvnbMSfAI/AAAAAAAADfs/ibSeIV1Lkdk/s320/IMG_0445.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316622083215752194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the wire the vet took out of his paw. If only we had surveillance cameras in the yard to see what he did to get that wire embedded so deeply in his paw. He has been an expensive dog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6506859277070119956?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6506859277070119956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6506859277070119956&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6506859277070119956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6506859277070119956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/03/expensive-dog.html' title='An Expensive Dog'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SchpF5hoeoI/AAAAAAAADfU/jnUMEI9Phlw/s72-c/DSC00006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8101385850192553629</id><published>2009-03-07T16:50:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T15:09:25.591-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mormon Times</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SbMkitH0S3I/AAAAAAAADfM/hvhEZEsxccw/s1600-h/logo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 36px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SbMkitH0S3I/AAAAAAAADfM/hvhEZEsxccw/s320/logo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310628564246481778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="smHeadline"&gt;&lt;div class="smTitle"&gt;For those of you who take the Deseret News (if you take the Tribune, shame on you, if you don't subscribe to any newspaper, even more shame on you), there is an insert in the Thursday edition entitled &lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/"&gt;Mormon Times&lt;/a&gt;. There is always interesting stuff in the Times but last Thursday (March 5, 2009) caught my attention more than usual. On the front page, there is a photo of President Obama along with four LDS law professors from the U of U. Each professor examines current issues related to their area of expertise. Evidently, none of these professors listen to Rush Limbaugh or Sean Hannity, because they generally have optimistic attitudes about the direction the administration is taking the country, at least in these areas. Excerpts of these articles follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6581"&gt;An obligation to our environment&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                                               &lt;div class="smAuthor"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6581"&gt;By James A. Holtkamp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Mormons tend to be conservative Republicans, which is a cultural and not doctrinal characteristic of the faith. As a result, there is much suspicion about the new administration's plans to enact a comprehensive new government regulatory program. However, Mormons also understand the concept of stewardship, which denotes mankind's individual and collective responsibility to care for this God-given home we live on. There are many Mormons who have become very active on environmental issues that affect their communities, families and health. Attacking climate change will require action by individuals, companies, universities and governments -- indeed by all entities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moroni prophesied that in the latter days "there shall be great pollutions upon the face of the earth" (Mormon 8:30). These pollutions are both spiritual and physical. We have an obligation to overcome both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*********************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                         &lt;div class="smSummary"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6580"&gt;Even greater comfort' in troubled times                                                  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="smSummary"&gt;                             &lt;div class="smAuthor"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6580"&gt;By Christian Johnson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                          &lt;div class="smDateEntered"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6580"&gt;For the Deseret News&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                         &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="smAffiliation"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Elder Richard L. Evans, a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy, stated at the height of the Great Depression in the 1939 April general conference: "I do not know in what condition this people will find itself a year or a decade or a generation hence. I do not know whether we shall be at war or at peace, whether the world will be in greater spiritual darkness, or ... whether we shall be in greater depression or in greater prosperity ... I do not know any of these things, but I do know that the words of all the prophets will be fulfilled."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I take great comfort in the heroic efforts being made by our political and economic leaders to fight our current economic crisis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I take even greater comfort in Elder Evans' counsel spoken 60 years ago that my family and I "will be better off to be found among the faithful of this people, than in any other condition in which we might find ourselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/education/?id=6582"&gt;Obama Sets a New Energy Path&lt;br /&gt;Lincoln L. Davies&lt;br /&gt;Deseret News&lt;br /&gt;Sunday March 8, 2009&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lincoln L. Davies wrote "80% of oil executives believe the world has already reached maximum oil production or will within 10 years. Our choice is clear. We can start preparing and transitioning now, or we can wait and risk potentially disastrous results. The Obama administration has chosen the "act now" approach. This is good, but not enough.We need complete innovation, real change. President Obama seems to understand this. President Spencer W. Kimball taught "Preparedness, when properly pursued, is a way of life, not a sudden, spectacular program. Ultimately, Obama's success must be judged on how well his lofty programs and iedeas help us pursue a new, sustainable way of life".&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/8059321015821084355-8101385850192553629?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8101385850192553629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8101385850192553629&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8101385850192553629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8101385850192553629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-those-of-you-who-take-deseret-news.html' title='Mormon Times'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SbMkitH0S3I/AAAAAAAADfM/hvhEZEsxccw/s72-c/logo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3293717690633073495</id><published>2009-03-02T22:39:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T21:42:19.946-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Darwin's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;         &lt;img src="http://web.visionlearning.com/events/images/DarwinInBirthdayHat.jpg" width="236" height="292" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;A new &lt;a href="http://www.gallup.com/poll/114544/Darwin-Birthday-Believe-Evolution.aspx"&gt; Gallup Poll dated February 11, 2009&lt;/a&gt;, on the eve of the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin's birth,  shows that only 39% of Americans say they "believe in the theory of evolution", while a quarter say they do not believe in the theory, and another 36% don't have an opinion either way. These attitudes are strongly related to education and, to an even greater degree, religiosity. Even to this day, highly religious individuals claim that the theory of evolution contradicts the story of creation as outlined in the book of Genesis in the Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the official position of the LDS Church on evolution? I would hazard a guess that most of the members don't really know and just assume that the church's position would be one of opposition.  However, that is not the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to look at the official Church position, read the statement in the &lt;a href="http://www.lib.byu.edu/Macmillan/"&gt;Encyclopedia of Mormonism&lt;/a&gt;. Part of that position reads as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, basing its belief on divine revelation, ancient and modern, declares man to be the direct and lineal offspring of Deity.... Man is the child of God, formed in the divine image and endowed with divine attributes&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not someone who necessarily believes that one of my ancestors is a chimpanzee but the Church could have said evolution was not true, and it did not. The position statement leaves a lot of room for evolution to take place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are interested enough to read further, there is a very interesting article in on a website entitled &lt;a href="http://www.fairlds.org/webguide.html"&gt;Fairlds.org&lt;/a&gt;. The website is operated by the Foundation for Apologetic Information &amp;amp; Research (FAIR) &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;which  is a non-profit organization dedicated to providing well-documented answers to criticisms of LDS doctrine, belief and practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The article is entitled "&lt;a href="http://www.fairlds.org/FAIR_Conferences/2003_Evolution_and_Latter-day_Saint_Theology.html"&gt;Evolution and Latter-day Saint Theology: The Tree of Life and DNA".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The conclusion of the article is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the data support the scientific interpretation of an evolutionary process for human origins. The scriptures state that God created humans in His image, we believe these two apparently contradictory paradigms can be reconciled if God created the natural laws by which humans were created. We refer to those natural laws as evolution in a package. Conflicts between the scientific data and the scriptural accounts result from our interpretation of the scriptures and our interpretation of the scientific data. They're not in the data or in the scriptures inherently&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more information on how eminent LDS scientists reconcile their religious beliefs with their scientific knowledge, read my previous blog, &lt;a href="http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/science-vs-religion.html"&gt;Science vs. Religion&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3293717690633073495?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3293717690633073495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3293717690633073495&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3293717690633073495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3293717690633073495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/03/darwins-birthday.html' title='Darwin&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8367496011081746325</id><published>2009-02-20T09:33:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T17:18:10.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Black Lab with the Cold Water Tail</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9D8JJbybI/AAAAAAAADdU/HojtXIOx5TY/s1600-h/IMG_0430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9D8JJbybI/AAAAAAAADdU/HojtXIOx5TY/s320/IMG_0430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305033586592434610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This is a hard time of year for our dogs, especially Boomer. With the wet weather we've had and the warm days, there is a lot of mud in the yard. When we leave the dogs out all day, we come home to some very muddy dogs. In order to make them presentable, I've had to take them out back and wash them off with the hose. Sadie handles this quite well, sitting and watching; waiting her turn while I wrestle Boomer around to clean him up. And then it happened, all of a sudden we noticed Boomer's tail which was always sticking straight out, and which wags in a circle, was limp as a wet noodle. Hanging between his legs like a sign of perpetual depression. We were in a quandry, what had happened to Boomers tail. Then a couple of days ago, &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/ParkerEaster2008#5184489765053368770"&gt;JoAnn&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://sentaplyer.blogspot.com/"&gt;Senta&lt;/a&gt; were searching the internet for clues and found the answer in an article entitled "&lt;a href="http://www.woodhavenlabs.com/coldtail.html"&gt;Cold Tail, Dead Tail, Limber Tail&lt;/a&gt;". This syndrome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; is thought to be associated with the dog getting wet and not getting dry soon enough. It's funny that when JoAnn mentioned this to one of her teacher friends at school, the friend gasped and said "it happened to our dog last week after we gave him a bath. Other folks have &lt;a href="http://labtails.blogspot.com/2008/02/lab-endurance-and-broken-wag-limber.html"&gt;blogged &lt;/a&gt;about this happening to their dogs. So, a word of warning to Lab owners, don't bath your dog in the winter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9EKeqB_XI/AAAAAAAADdc/sgCmB2ZzDEM/s1600-h/IMG_0433.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9EKeqB_XI/AAAAAAAADdc/sgCmB2ZzDEM/s320/IMG_0433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305033832884469106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boomer's tail normally looks like this; sticking straight out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9EwuPJIrI/AAAAAAAADdk/w_7rMWPyWCo/s1600-h/P6240070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9EwuPJIrI/AAAAAAAADdk/w_7rMWPyWCo/s320/P6240070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305034489901687474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8367496011081746325?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8367496011081746325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8367496011081746325&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8367496011081746325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8367496011081746325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/02/black-lab-with-cold-water-tail.html' title='The Black Lab with the Cold Water Tail'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZ9D8JJbybI/AAAAAAAADdU/HojtXIOx5TY/s72-c/IMG_0430.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1200730052596385485</id><published>2009-02-10T20:37:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T20:45:18.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Red Head is Dead?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZJIXWi6-OI/AAAAAAAADc0/AlBrQJf9PTU/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZJIXWi6-OI/AAAAAAAADc0/AlBrQJf9PTU/s320/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301379277394737378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I read an article in the Smithsonian Magazine about the impending extinction of red heads in the world. To quote the&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/The-Last-Page-Requiem-for-the-Redhead.html"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If predictions by the Oxford Hair Foundation come to pass, the number of natural redheads everywhere will continue to dwindle until there are none left by the year 2100."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This upset me a little because some of my favorite people in the world are red heads. In fact, I have been called a red head myself. I remember when we lived in Orem decades ago, I used to go home teaching to a family where one of the little girls called me "the man with the orange hair". Now I don't think I have orange hair, just some auburn highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the reason we have four red-headed children is because both JoAnn and I have have auburn hair. I remember going to the store when they were all small and getting dirty looks and even accusations of evil doing since the accuser had red hair but had been unable to have red-headed children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of the article, I'm optimistic that there will always be red heads. I've read &lt;a href="http://www.philocrites.com/archives/003712.html"&gt;articles &lt;/a&gt;by other people who  think the prediction is hogwash. And as you can see, I've done my part to ensure the long-term survival of the red head.  Photo credit: &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0928177/"&gt;Brian Wilcox&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1200730052596385485?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1200730052596385485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1200730052596385485&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1200730052596385485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1200730052596385485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/02/red-head-is-dead.html' title='The Red Head is Dead?'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SZJIXWi6-OI/AAAAAAAADc0/AlBrQJf9PTU/s72-c/scan0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-381280976237739001</id><published>2009-02-04T20:43:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:56:41.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ is Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SYpipzb1gfI/AAAAAAAADcs/9BnkzFwKdko/s1600-h/IMG_0407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SYpipzb1gfI/AAAAAAAADcs/9BnkzFwKdko/s320/IMG_0407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299156381875929586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SYpip1zYDtI/AAAAAAAADck/Z3OQ4dsR48U/s1600-h/IMG_0413.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SYpip1zYDtI/AAAAAAAADck/Z3OQ4dsR48U/s320/IMG_0413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299156382511533778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On January 22, 2009, Parker turned three. This just happened to be on a Thursday which is when we get to have him over for the evening. The night before, his other grandma and grandpa took him to Chucky Cheese. He must have had fun because when I asked him what he did, he jabbered at me for about 5 minutes. Typically I can understand him fairly well, but he was going so fast, I couldn't understand a word he said. To celebrate his birthday, we had a little party and Senta made a cake with a "Cars" theme featuring Lighting McQueen (click on the photos to get a better view). Parker loves Lighting McQueen. He has a Lighting McQueen bicycle, pajamas, coloring book, etc. etc. We were kind of worried about the cake because Senta called and said she was cleaning up after she had a "cake accident" on the way to the car. But not to worry, it turned out great. To see all the photos, click on my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/ParkerSThirdBirthday#"&gt;picasa album&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-381280976237739001?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/381280976237739001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=381280976237739001&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/381280976237739001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/381280976237739001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/02/pj-is-three.html' title='PJ is Three'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SYpipzb1gfI/AAAAAAAADcs/9BnkzFwKdko/s72-c/IMG_0407.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-2988083986685874712</id><published>2009-01-26T20:08:00.020-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T19:56:23.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Richie and Greg at the Obama Inauguration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6B7Dz8g-I/AAAAAAAADWM/U-0GXZxpCPs/s1600-h/capt.photo_1232047306470-1-0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6B7Dz8g-I/AAAAAAAADWM/U-0GXZxpCPs/s320/capt.photo_1232047306470-1-0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295813063469728738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/RICHIE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;Soon after the election, Richie called and asked if I would try and get him some tickets to the inauguration. He had evidently discovered that getting tickets from his Virginia congressmen would be impossible. Interestingly, that very day there was an article in the paper about how to get tickets. I immediately contacted the Jason Chaffetz at the indicated email address. Congressman Chaffetz emailed me back saying he didn't know how many tickets he would get, if any, but would let me know. I also called Senator Hatch's local office, they told me to forget it, and Senator Bennett's office, they put me on a list. On December 17th, I got an email from the office of Congressman Chaffetz letting me know they had two tickets for me. Soon after I got a phone call from Senator Bennett's office letting me know they also had two tickets for me. Believing, and rightly so, that Richie probably had some friends that could use the tickets, I confirmed that I would pick up these tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to prevent scalping, I guess, the only way to get the tickets was to appear personally at the congressman's office with ID about three or four days prior to the event. When Richie and Greg went to the office of Rep. Chaffetz, they realized that security was so tight and the line so long, that by the time they got the tickets, Senator Bennett's office would be closed. Greg called Senta and asked her to get them a number for the office. When they called the number and explained the situation, Rep. Chaffetz came out personally and gave them the tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6DfVTqavI/AAAAAAAADWU/EN8vW-gBjMM/s1600-h/IMG_6546.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6DfVTqavI/AAAAAAAADWU/EN8vW-gBjMM/s320/IMG_6546.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295814786153081586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the morning of the big day, they got on the Metro at about 7 AM and headed for town. As everyone has heard, the crowds were massive. After they had been waiting in line for an hour, they noticed up at the front of the line, that security was turning people away. Greg told me that he had enough experience with concerts to know that there was usually a way around security. This next photo shows the line (I use that word loosely as it was really a street full of people) with a row of buses on the right side. Richie and Greg made their way to the other side of the row of buses and walked around security (it's kind of scary when you think about it, two college kids from Utah busting through inauguration security) and eventually got to their spot about 10:45. There were a lot of people not so lucky, or maybe not so devious. There have been many articles about the people who didn't get in. &lt;a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/inauguration-watch/2009/01/people_with_tickets_being_turn.html"&gt;Click on the link to read one&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6Fu0JbNSI/AAAAAAAADWc/PoLIw_tr71E/s1600-h/IMG_6567.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6Fu0JbNSI/AAAAAAAADWc/PoLIw_tr71E/s320/IMG_6567.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295817251152934178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These next two photos are of the very patriotic Wilcox Boys at the Obama Inaguration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6G7rqgOyI/AAAAAAAADWs/oSgVtjaDB0w/s1600-h/IMG_6649.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6G7rqgOyI/AAAAAAAADWs/oSgVtjaDB0w/s320/IMG_6649.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295818571725683490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6G7QHZCYI/AAAAAAAADWk/l3TCaPiB6Jg/s1600-h/IMG_6647.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6G7QHZCYI/AAAAAAAADWk/l3TCaPiB6Jg/s320/IMG_6647.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295818564330654082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tickets to the inauguration were divided up using colors. The tickets Richie and Greg had were silver.  &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/graphic/2009/01/12/GR2009011201480.html"&gt;A map showing the various locations can be seen by clicking on the link&lt;/a&gt;. As one newspaper article stated:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; "There are five types of tickets, each color-coded depending on the entrance and how close guests can be to the stage: blue, yellow, orange, purple and silver. Most of the tickets are rectangular, just a couple inches high and about six inches across. But ironically, the biggest tickets (silver) are for spots the furthest away from the Capitol and are designated as standing room only. Those tickets are three-times the size of the others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I guess they have to do something for the people in the back to make them feel special," one aide said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And, by the way, for those who have heard that this was the &lt;a href="http://www.factcheck.org/askfactcheck/did_barack_obamas_inauguration_really_cost_4.html"&gt;most expensive inauguration&lt;/a&gt; ever, it is completely untrue. Check out the link.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As some of you may know, Greg works on the&lt;a href="http://media.www.uvureview.com/media/storage/paper982/news/2009/01/26/News/A.New.President-3597861.shtml"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.www.uvureview.com/media/storage/paper982/news/2009/01/26/News/A.New.President-3597861.shtml"&gt;school paper at UVU&lt;/a&gt;. He tried to get them to pay for his ticket, but with the state budget the way it is this year, there was no way. However, he did get to bring a camera owned by the paper. So even though they weren't all that close, they still got a photo in which you can see the President and his wife (you'll have to double click on the photo to enlarge it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6T057yI_I/AAAAAAAADW0/O85DHp5HdAA/s1600-h/IMG_6603.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6T057yI_I/AAAAAAAADW0/O85DHp5HdAA/s320/IMG_6603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295832748948333554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you click on the photo and look down from the right edge of the window to the right of the red-draped entrance, you can see Pres. and Mrs. Obama (look for a yellow-colored coat).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;Pres. Uchtdorf and Elder Ballard represented the Church at the inauguration. They both seem to have a hope and respect for Pres. Obama which seems to be lacking in the general membership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Both left the prayer service with a sense the people of America are going to unite behind the new president and his administration and that we need to pray for him. Elder Ballard said, "We need to exercise our prayers and help him accomplish the great objectives that he has set."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Both President Uchtdorf and Elder Ballard used adjectives like "marvelous," "wonderful" and "overwhelming" in describing their experiences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"This new administration is sending a message of hope and change to the world," President Uchtdorf said. "We know there is no greater message to all the world than the message of the Church and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I only hope this historic moment will open doors and hearts to the gospel message of hope and change."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;To read the full article in the &lt;a href="http://www.ldschurchnews.com/articles/56505/Witnesses-to-history-and-a-sense-of-hope.html"&gt;Church News&lt;/a&gt;, click on the link.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To see all of their photos, click on my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/RichieAndGregAtTheObamaInauguration#"&gt;picassa album.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-2988083986685874712?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/2988083986685874712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=2988083986685874712&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2988083986685874712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/2988083986685874712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/01/richie-and-greg-at-inauguration.html' title='Richie and Greg at the Obama Inauguration'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SX6B7Dz8g-I/AAAAAAAADWM/U-0GXZxpCPs/s72-c/capt.photo_1232047306470-1-0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-467453402800326152</id><published>2009-01-14T21:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T21:23:40.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SW66OWPyRTI/AAAAAAAADNA/mirOs4KuPDo/s1600-h/IMG_0391.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SW66OWPyRTI/AAAAAAAADNA/mirOs4KuPDo/s320/IMG_0391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291371367859635506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Christmas 2008 has come and gone, thank goodness.We all had a nice time and it was good to be able to visit with the parents, brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews etc. etc. For a few more pictures, check out this &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ricksterbus/Christmas2008#"&gt;picasa album&lt;/a&gt;. I wish you a prosperous and happy new year everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-467453402800326152?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/467453402800326152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=467453402800326152&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/467453402800326152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/467453402800326152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas-2008_14.html' title='Christmas 2008'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SW66OWPyRTI/AAAAAAAADNA/mirOs4KuPDo/s72-c/IMG_0391.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3426414948978787038</id><published>2009-01-06T08:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T08:28:38.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P.J. The Pizza Maker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SWLv0uuAkgI/AAAAAAAADL8/9Yb1YOpVhxM/s1600-h/IMG_0404.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SWLv0uuAkgI/AAAAAAAADL8/9Yb1YOpVhxM/s320/IMG_0404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288052601659625986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SWLv0RM8QeI/AAAAAAAADL0/7JZJoBY0xLI/s1600-h/IMG_0401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SWLv0RM8QeI/AAAAAAAADL0/7JZJoBY0xLI/s320/IMG_0401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288052593736303074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear that JoAnn made at least 300 rolls over the holidays. She even got a new &lt;a href="http://www.boschappliances.com/kitchen-appliances-consumer-products_small-appliances_food-prep-mixers-blenders_universal-plus-kitchen-machines_MUM6N10UC.html"&gt;Bosch bread mixe&lt;/a&gt;r to keep up the pace. Our old Kitchenettics was about 30 years old and some of the plastic parts finally gave up. Anyway, one night she was making rolls for the next day, and P.J. had to get in the action (You'll notice I call him P.J. now instead of Parker since that is what he prefers; sometimes he won't even answer to Parker). Of course he has to be in the middle of the action, and since his Daddy works in a pizza store, he decided to make pizza. As you can see, he worked at it pretty hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3426414948978787038?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3426414948978787038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3426414948978787038&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3426414948978787038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3426414948978787038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2009/01/pj-pizza-maker_06.html' title='P.J. The Pizza Maker'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SWLv0uuAkgI/AAAAAAAADL8/9Yb1YOpVhxM/s72-c/IMG_0404.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4997556100652105476</id><published>2008-12-21T21:03:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T22:25:36.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Humanitarian Service Room</title><content type='html'>On Wednesday evening last, the Wilcox &amp;amp; Plyer Families spent an evening  at the &lt;a href="http://www.providentliving.org/content/display/0,11666,2919-1-3274-1,00.html"&gt;Humanitarian Service Room&lt;/a&gt; in the &lt;a href="http://www.ldschurchnews.com/articles/51007/Newest-largest-Deseret-Industries-opens.html"&gt;Murray Deseret Industries building&lt;/a&gt;. Dustin couldn't go because he had PJ and nobody under 12 is allowed in. That left JoAnn, Senta, Burke, Richie, Greg, and me to carry the load. It all began when JoAnn asked me to look for some kind of service project we could do as a family over the holidays when Richie was here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few calls, I found out that a few of the DI's (with more to come) have what is called a &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/humanitarianservices/0,19749,6208,00.html"&gt;Humanitarian Service Room&lt;/a&gt;. They are open during the day and volunteers can walk in and participate. They are open some evenings by appointment. We made an appointment and went in the evening. We were the only ones in the service room which is good since it wasn't all that big. As for the service we provided, Richie and Burke worked on sanitation kits, Greg and Senta worked on the &lt;a href="http://sewing.about.com/od/sergersoverlock/Sergers_Overlock_Sewing_Machines.htm"&gt;sergers&lt;/a&gt;, and JoAnn and I worked on sewing machines, stitching together the pieces serged by Greg and Senta, into &lt;a href="http://www.ldsphilanthropies.org/humanitarian-services/patterns/school-bag-2.pdf"&gt;book bags&lt;/a&gt;. The bag I sewed together didn't look quite as nice as this one, but the Sister who was helping us said she had never seem someone who hadn't done it before, come in and finish a bag in one evening. I actually finished one and parts of two others! JoAnn also brought home the materials for a couple of crib quilts that we will be working on over the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who are asking what on earth were they thinking assigning me to a sewing machine should know that I do have some experience. Many, many years ago, I ordered a coat from a company that sent all the pieces to you and you had to sew it. I thought it would be a good experience for me to sew a coat. And I did, and it turned out OK. So everyone had a fun, fulfilling evening where we did something (even just a small something) for someone else and we all felt good about it. We'll probably go again to the West Jordan store when they get their HSR opened up and running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, there are no photos for this post. I told myself I would take a camera and just as we were pulling out of the parking lot after we were finished, I remembered the camera. Doh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-4997556100652105476?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4997556100652105476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4997556100652105476&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4997556100652105476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4997556100652105476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/12/humanitarian-service-room.html' title='The Humanitarian Service Room'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-430761066060372693</id><published>2008-12-05T11:56:00.016-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:31:02.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirty First Year</title><content type='html'>When I went to work on Monday, December 1, 2008, it was the first day of my thirty first year working for the same agency. Known then as the Division of State Lands and Forestry, it is now the &lt;a href="http://trustlands.utah.gov/"&gt;School and Institutional Trust Lands Administration&lt;/a&gt;. Given this momentous occasion, I thought I would some post some information and photos on this blog to document some of the people I work with and the way things look at SITLA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STl7J4jT3dI/AAAAAAAADE4/wC-65dioYPo/s1600-h/Public+Room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 40px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STl7J4jT3dI/AAAAAAAADE4/wC-65dioYPo/s320/Public+Room.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276383848170773970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a panoramic photo of the "Public Room" so-called because this is where the public comes to look at our records (click on the photo to get a better view). The books you see lining the walls contain copies of state land records dating from statehood. There are copies of all the Certificates of Sale and Patents issued,  ownership plat books, mineral lease records, and copies of the original surveys of the entire state. Oh yeah, the handsome guy at the desk is Michael.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STl84sE2iII/AAAAAAAADFA/3gCgHeBZ0y4/s1600-h/Office.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 64px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STl84sE2iII/AAAAAAAADFA/3gCgHeBZ0y4/s320/Office.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276385751787276418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a panoramic shot of my cubicle. It may look messy to the untrained eye but I know where everything is (unless I forgot about it and then it doesn't matter). To the knowledgeable bureaucrat, it may appear that my office is somewhat larger than the typical 10 X 10 regulation size. Several years ago, in an office reorganization, Gary and I ended up with an empty office between us. So one Saturday, we took our tools and went to work and made two offices out of three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmAePkIGdI/AAAAAAAADFI/bHZnYW1abbU/s1600-h/IMG_0353.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmAePkIGdI/AAAAAAAADFI/bHZnYW1abbU/s320/IMG_0353.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276389695503735250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my boss, Kim Christy. He's a good guy, really. When he meets someone, it's only a matter of minutes before he has assigned them a nickname and put their phone number in his blackberry. I remember meeting him a couple of years before he started working for us and thinking "I don't trust anyone that friendly".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBBcIfaII/AAAAAAAADFg/nlwRVMBBNx0/s1600-h/IMG_0362.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBBcIfaII/AAAAAAAADFg/nlwRVMBBNx0/s320/IMG_0362.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276390300172904578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBBOWI6wI/AAAAAAAADFY/Pr1zdZwqAd8/s1600-h/IMG_0348.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBBOWI6wI/AAAAAAAADFY/Pr1zdZwqAd8/s320/IMG_0348.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276390296472054530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBAsETfzI/AAAAAAAADFQ/dovcpBIskp0/s1600-h/IMG_0345.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STmBAsETfzI/AAAAAAAADFQ/dovcpBIskp0/s320/IMG_0345.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276390287270444850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These guys, members of the "Drinkmobile" all,  from top to bottom are: Kurt Higgins, Industrial Lease Administrator, Ute fan, and world traveler; Daran Baggs, the computer guy, painted pumpkin distributor, and inveterate mountain climber;  Gary Bagley, Telecommunication Lease Administrator, BYU fan, and founder of the "Drinkmobile". The "Drinkmobile" leaves the office most days between 9 AM and 10 AM and heads for the local Maverik where we fill our cups with liquid refreshment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/ST3IttBQLqI/AAAAAAAADGA/r194EvKurSM/s1600-h/IMG_0198.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/ST3IttBQLqI/AAAAAAAADGA/r194EvKurSM/s320/IMG_0198.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277595025852608162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Adam Robison, the Agency Forester and Cary Zielinsky, Contract Forester. I manage the Forestry Program because nobody else would take it and I got stuck with it. I'm now quite glad it happened that way. I've learned a lot and have been able to spend some time in the woods with a couple of guys who can operate any piece of machinery at light speed, build anything, and fix anything. Cary is even an inventor; &lt;a href="http://store.puffinco.com/servlet/-strse-template/youtube/Page"&gt;check it out&lt;/a&gt;. Amazing guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STn2NjLqw-I/AAAAAAAADFw/fYZrg_lb9eo/s1600-h/IMG_0354.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STn2NjLqw-I/AAAAAAAADFw/fYZrg_lb9eo/s320/IMG_0354.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276519151084159970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STn2OCKMC_I/AAAAAAAADF4/RwCdaFjiuzk/s1600-h/IMG_0364.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STn2OCKMC_I/AAAAAAAADF4/RwCdaFjiuzk/s320/IMG_0364.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276519159399451634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From top to bottom, this is Diane Durrant, who was my secretary for a number of years and who now keeps the sales program running smooth, and Linda Bianchi who helps me through the red-tape all bureaucrats have to live with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have. Just a small sample of the people I work with and the things they do. If they weren't all so great, I wouldn't be looking forward to my next 30 years. OK, maybe 6 or 7 more years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-430761066060372693?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/430761066060372693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=430761066060372693&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/430761066060372693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/430761066060372693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/12/thirty-first-year.html' title='Thirty First Year'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STl7J4jT3dI/AAAAAAAADE4/wC-65dioYPo/s72-c/Public+Room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3610315651070380964</id><published>2008-11-29T20:14:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:55:02.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIFfkK44-I/AAAAAAAADEY/NGyHv6X-kRg/s1600-h/IMG_0337.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIFfkK44-I/AAAAAAAADEY/NGyHv6X-kRg/s320/IMG_0337.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274284153447703522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIFfoMlANI/AAAAAAAADEg/-tgizli6I3E/s1600-h/ParkerDrum3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIFfoMlANI/AAAAAAAADEg/-tgizli6I3E/s320/ParkerDrum3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274284154528530642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIG1Ji_Z3I/AAAAAAAADEw/raXLFcI5UfE/s1600-h/ParkerDrum2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIG1Ji_Z3I/AAAAAAAADEw/raXLFcI5UfE/s320/ParkerDrum2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274285623769786226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving this year was at Mimi's Restaurant. The food was not nearly as good as home cooked but the cleanup was so much easier. After dinner, we went to see &lt;a href="http://www.australiamovie.com/"&gt;Australia&lt;/a&gt; the movie. It was OK but I think &lt;a href="http://www.makemeheal.com/news/nicole-kidman-breast-augmentation/81"&gt;Nicole Kidman&lt;/a&gt; has done something weird with her lips.  They don't look normal. After the movie, we went over to Senta's for pie and Guitar Hero. Burke has quite the setup, one person can sing, two can play guitar and/or bass, and one can play the drums. As you can see here, Parker looks like he is going to be a drummer like his dad. To everyone who reads this, thank you for your love and friendship!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3610315651070380964?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3610315651070380964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3610315651070380964&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3610315651070380964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3610315651070380964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-2008.html' title='Thanksgiving 2008'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/STIFfkK44-I/AAAAAAAADEY/NGyHv6X-kRg/s72-c/IMG_0337.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-943100965790050951</id><published>2008-11-11T20:52:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T21:12:10.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pumpkin Part of Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZEp_PXI/AAAAAAAADDg/XmbxhbGOpDI/s1600-h/IMG_0288.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZEp_PXI/AAAAAAAADDg/XmbxhbGOpDI/s320/IMG_0288.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267616603398159730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZqXCVJI/AAAAAAAADDo/_02kaWFpric/s1600-h/IMG_0293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZqXCVJI/AAAAAAAADDo/_02kaWFpric/s320/IMG_0293.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267616613519217810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVaFbWoNI/AAAAAAAADD4/19HnCVSKvT8/s1600-h/IMG_0310.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVaFbWoNI/AAAAAAAADD4/19HnCVSKvT8/s320/IMG_0310.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267616620785082578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZw0lTEI/AAAAAAAADDw/0yi1pkzlBbI/s1600-h/IMG_0316.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZw0lTEI/AAAAAAAADDw/0yi1pkzlBbI/s320/IMG_0316.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267616615253756994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVaQUb9KI/AAAAAAAADEA/Sl0wWYJ0H7E/s1600-h/IMG_0324.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVaQUb9KI/AAAAAAAADEA/Sl0wWYJ0H7E/s320/IMG_0324.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267616623708861602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first two photos are of Parker and Senta's pumpkin creating night. Senta had been to a Plyer family party the night before and they had a lot of colored, sticky styrofoam stuff that they cut out and stuck on the pumpkins. The features are all Parker's decision. The next couple are of the real pumpkin carving a couple of days later. As we were getting ready, laying down the paper, getting the carving tools and sitting on the floor, Parker walked over and said " what doing guys?" We all got a chuckle out of that. The last photo is of the newly carved pumpkin with a lit interior candle on the front porch looking scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-943100965790050951?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/943100965790050951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=943100965790050951&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/943100965790050951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/943100965790050951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/11/pumpkin-part-of-halloween.html' title='The Pumpkin Part of Halloween'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SRpVZEp_PXI/AAAAAAAADDg/XmbxhbGOpDI/s72-c/IMG_0288.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8508803993522507551</id><published>2008-11-03T21:59:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T22:26:51.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Miracle Rod</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SQ_aR3f2q0I/AAAAAAAADDY/lQV7Flr7_lw/s1600-h/IMG_0327.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/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SQ_aR3f2q0I/AAAAAAAADDY/lQV7Flr7_lw/s320/IMG_0327.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264666489909586754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago, I was browsing through the junk at State Surplus. Near the door, there was a garbage can full of confiscated rods and reels. Gary Bagley and I were looking through these poles and I noticed a G Loomis rod with a Daiwa reel. I didn't know too much about fishing equipment, but I knew G Loomis was a very good brand. I bought the pair for $15.00 and took them home. Richie was fascinated with the rod and reel and was bound and determined to find what they were worth. He searched catalogue after catalogue. Finally he came in the room smiling and told me the rod was worth $150.00 and the reel was worth $100.00. Needless to say, I was amazed. Several years later,I took Greg fishing at a small reservoir on Cove Mountain above Annabella known as &lt;a href="http://www.fishingworks.com/lakes/utah/sevier/annabella/annabella-reservoir/"&gt;Anabella Reservoir&lt;/a&gt;. We were in a small raft and it was a windy day. We weren't catching anything and the raft was filling with water so we decided to leave. Greg was using the G Loomis rod with a cheap reel on that particular day. We we got to shore, to our horror, we noticed that the rod had fallen out of the raft. We went back out to see if we could find it on the bottom (it is a fairly shallow lake) to no avail. The very next year, I again took Greg fishing on Annabella Reservoir (the reservoir has a large population of freshwater shrimp which makes the flesh of the fish bright orange and as the water lake gets lower in the fall, the fish are fairly large and easy to catch). This time, we had Lou Brown with us and a decent boat. I was using a fly and a bubble and Greg was using a spinner. We had been fishing for an hour or so when Greg hooked into what we thought was a fairly good fish. As he reeled it in, it became apparent that it wasn't a fish, it was the G Loomis. That was a good fishing trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8508803993522507551?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8508803993522507551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8508803993522507551&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8508803993522507551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8508803993522507551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/11/miracle-rod.html' title='The Miracle Rod'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SQ_aR3f2q0I/AAAAAAAADDY/lQV7Flr7_lw/s72-c/IMG_0327.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7726844100127006325</id><published>2008-10-19T21:01:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:11:34.526-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv0yW_amBI/AAAAAAAADC4/zWHqO4Gq13o/s1600-h/Finding+the+perfect.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv0yW_amBI/AAAAAAAADC4/zWHqO4Gq13o/s320/Finding+the+perfect.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259066135887386642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv0ytVfmpI/AAAAAAAADDA/Ox3pLHCg26w/s1600-h/Parker+and+Nana+PP+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv0ytVfmpI/AAAAAAAADDA/Ox3pLHCg26w/s320/Parker+and+Nana+PP+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259066141885569682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv2k98rhXI/AAAAAAAADDQ/SkNGkikq9bg/s1600-h/Senta+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv2k98rhXI/AAAAAAAADDQ/SkNGkikq9bg/s320/Senta+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259068104849982834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday, we (me, JoAnn, and Senta) took Parker to a pumkin patch in South Jordan to pick the perfect pumpkin. After giving Parker a ride in a wheelbarrow, he choose a rather sad looking pumpkin (look for it carved in my next blog). The thing is, we moved it around next to other better looking ones but he always choose the same one. Anyway, it was a nice evening in the pumpkin patch. One regret I have is that I forgot my camera and had to use my cell phone. That is the reason for the less than HD photos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7726844100127006325?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7726844100127006325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7726844100127006325&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7726844100127006325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7726844100127006325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/10/pumpkin-patch.html' title='Pumpkin Patch'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SPv0yW_amBI/AAAAAAAADC4/zWHqO4Gq13o/s72-c/Finding+the+perfect.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-1641083767782363966</id><published>2008-10-19T20:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:00:33.397-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Colonoscopy or "Hello, Mr. Hose"</title><content type='html'>Well, this last week I visited my friendly gastroenterologist for my 2nd &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpaEWpYUdDQ"&gt;colonoscopy&lt;/a&gt; (go ahead, I dare you to click on the link). I won't bore you with the details, but the Dr. told me I don't have to go back for 10 years! That is good news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-1641083767782363966?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/1641083767782363966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=1641083767782363966&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1641083767782363966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/1641083767782363966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/10/colonoscopy-or-hello-mr-hose.html' title='Colonoscopy or &quot;Hello, Mr. Hose&quot;'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3680418032506271719</id><published>2008-09-29T22:00:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T22:13:39.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker and Trey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SOGkbZp9HgI/AAAAAAAACXY/728NsB3VorA/s1600-h/At+the+bike+park.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SOGkbZp9HgI/AAAAAAAACXY/728NsB3VorA/s320/At+the+bike+park.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251659431140990466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SOGkbxqz9kI/AAAAAAAACXg/Lug6ShOC3vU/s1600-h/Parker+and+Trey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SOGkbxqz9kI/AAAAAAAACXg/Lug6ShOC3vU/s320/Parker+and+Trey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251659437587035714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally learned how to get photos from my phone to the computer. I don't know if it is the best way but I just email them to myself and then save them. The phone lady at work will probably have a heart attack when she sees the bill but oh well. These photos are of Parker and Trey Dukatz. . Their birthdays are only a few months apart and they are BF in the WWW. They spend so much time together they are practically brothers. Parker is very lucky to have such a good friend at such a young age. By the way, I didn't take these photos with my phone, Dustin sent them to my phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3680418032506271719?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3680418032506271719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3680418032506271719&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3680418032506271719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3680418032506271719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/09/parker-and-trey.html' title='Parker and Trey'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SOGkbZp9HgI/AAAAAAAACXY/728NsB3VorA/s72-c/At+the+bike+park.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4161999185404468294</id><published>2008-09-15T22:31:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:01:03.313-06:00</updated><title type='text'>La Sal Mountains Again</title><content type='html'>I think I've mentioned that my work takes me to the La Sal Mountains several times a year. These photos are from a trip this summer to inspect a couple of timber sales that are finishing up. We (SITLA) have an agreement with an excelsior mill in Colorado where we furnish them with at least a million board feet of aspen each year (they pay $10.50/ton). They use the aspen to make &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Excelsior_%28wood_wool%29"&gt;excelsior&lt;/a&gt; for use in erosion blankets. The harvesting of aspen is more important now because hundreds of acres of trees are dying due to the poplar beetle. If we can harvest it soon enough, the clones will sprout and in a couple of years, a beautiful replacement stand of aspen will be tall enough to escape the jaws of hungry cows, horses, elk, and deer. Click on a photo to get a better view.&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fricksterbus%2Falbumid%2F5246470826474745857%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="288" height="192"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-4161999185404468294?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4161999185404468294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4161999185404468294&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4161999185404468294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4161999185404468294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/09/la-sal-mountains-again.html' title='La Sal Mountains Again'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-4102892799118380868</id><published>2008-09-15T22:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T22:54:06.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parkie and Nana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SM8yNZi6-oI/AAAAAAAACQg/3Ni-jMVJJKI/s1600-h/IMG_0279%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SM8yNZi6-oI/AAAAAAAACQg/3Ni-jMVJJKI/s320/IMG_0279%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246467296686963330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday when Dustin and Parker came over, Parker was tired and cranky. He didn't want much to do with anyone. But Nana changed his mood by reading some books with him and then taking him outside to the sand box. This photo shows them in the hammock watching the planes fly over. It seems like they lower their landing gear directly overhead. The photo is blurry because they wouldn't stop swinging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-4102892799118380868?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/4102892799118380868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=4102892799118380868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4102892799118380868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/4102892799118380868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/09/parkie-and-nana.html' title='Parkie and Nana'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SM8yNZi6-oI/AAAAAAAACQg/3Ni-jMVJJKI/s72-c/IMG_0279%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-5960384644242746912</id><published>2008-07-28T20:59:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T22:00:04.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandbox</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SI6INw2G9FI/AAAAAAAACQQ/VcJirnCDco8/s1600-h/IMG_0269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SI6INw2G9FI/AAAAAAAACQQ/VcJirnCDco8/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228265987455251538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SI6IOURp1PI/AAAAAAAACQY/--u80Lf-OGs/s1600-h/IMG_0272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SI6IOURp1PI/AAAAAAAACQY/--u80Lf-OGs/s320/IMG_0272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228265996966024434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another summer project almost finished (a few minor details remain)! A sandbox for Parker. He seemed to have fun in it and, since Daddy threw some sand at him, he promptly threw some sand on Daddy. It's not quite as big as the one we had in West Jordan (remember the "beach") but it'll do for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-5960384644242746912?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/5960384644242746912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=5960384644242746912&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5960384644242746912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/5960384644242746912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/07/sandbox.html' title='Sandbox'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SI6INw2G9FI/AAAAAAAACQQ/VcJirnCDco8/s72-c/IMG_0269.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6380705844622939741</id><published>2008-07-20T21:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:11:34.420-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of a Project</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SIP9raO5fbI/AAAAAAAACQA/NJ6tLzps_Vk/s1600-h/IMG_0266%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SIP9raO5fbI/AAAAAAAACQA/NJ6tLzps_Vk/s320/IMG_0266%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225298914897919410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SIP9r-Cc-gI/AAAAAAAACQI/aMk3HosUXuE/s1600-h/IMG_0268%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SIP9r-Cc-gI/AAAAAAAACQI/aMk3HosUXuE/s320/IMG_0268%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225298924509395458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After about 5 years, my "brick walkway around the house" project recently came to an end. With the help of Richie and Greg, the last section was completed the first week in July. I'm here to tell you, those railroad ties are heavy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6380705844622939741?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6380705844622939741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6380705844622939741&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6380705844622939741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6380705844622939741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/07/end-of-project.html' title='The End of a Project'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SIP9raO5fbI/AAAAAAAACQA/NJ6tLzps_Vk/s72-c/IMG_0266%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6271351457684414607</id><published>2008-07-08T22:13:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:18:15.686-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker and the Dirty Dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SHQ7_eu76VI/AAAAAAAACPw/K35v1QxqJbw/s1600-h/IMG_0235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SHQ7_eu76VI/AAAAAAAACPw/K35v1QxqJbw/s320/IMG_0235.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220863829796972882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SHQ7_zkFWYI/AAAAAAAACP4/ieCZNWqus-0/s1600-h/IMG_0240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SHQ7_zkFWYI/AAAAAAAACP4/ieCZNWqus-0/s320/IMG_0240.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220863835388598658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that Boomer and sometimes Sadie escape from the yard about once every couple of months. Two or three weeks ago, they both escaped and we spent the evening looking for them. Around 8 PM, a guy up by the firehouse called and said he had them. Dustin went up and got them and when they got back, the dogs appeared to have spent the day rolling in something unpleasant. Dustin volunteered to give them a bath and, like a real trooper, Parker lent his dad a hand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6271351457684414607?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6271351457684414607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6271351457684414607&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6271351457684414607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6271351457684414607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/07/parker-and-dirty-dogs.html' title='Parker and the Dirty Dogs'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SHQ7_eu76VI/AAAAAAAACPw/K35v1QxqJbw/s72-c/IMG_0235.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7988448214309121527</id><published>2008-06-30T20:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T20:40:32.959-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Place to do Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZEUDFOWI/AAAAAAAACPY/k1hEh9Wv0sE/s1600-h/P6120020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZEUDFOWI/AAAAAAAACPY/k1hEh9Wv0sE/s320/P6120020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217869942665591138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZEl5ARYI/AAAAAAAACPg/OMVEY3-ufPA/s1600-h/IMG_0809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZEl5ARYI/AAAAAAAACPg/OMVEY3-ufPA/s320/IMG_0809.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217869947455161730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZFEcO0MI/AAAAAAAACPo/tojaLx8oJz0/s1600-h/IMG_0782.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZFEcO0MI/AAAAAAAACPo/tojaLx8oJz0/s320/IMG_0782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217869955655979202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the places I get to work is the La Sal Mountains of southeast Utah. Last year, Richie and I went down to help with some road work we had going. We saw some dinosaur tracks on the way and yes, that is Richie on the heavy equipment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7988448214309121527?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7988448214309121527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7988448214309121527&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7988448214309121527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7988448214309121527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/06/tough-place-to-do-business.html' title='Tough Place to do Business'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SGmZEUDFOWI/AAAAAAAACPY/k1hEh9Wv0sE/s72-c/P6120020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8995255129029008037</id><published>2008-05-12T21:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:04:39.569-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTF8zlrDI/AAAAAAAACOA/G489vGbA_30/s1600-h/IMG_0134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTF8zlrDI/AAAAAAAACOA/G489vGbA_30/s320/IMG_0134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199708237718727730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTGMzlrEI/AAAAAAAACOI/iVn1TfCQdss/s1600-h/IMG_0136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTGMzlrEI/AAAAAAAACOI/iVn1TfCQdss/s320/IMG_0136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199708242013695042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTGczlrFI/AAAAAAAACOQ/EmMCD_Ut3nc/s1600-h/IMG_0137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTGczlrFI/AAAAAAAACOQ/EmMCD_Ut3nc/s320/IMG_0137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199708246308662354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTHczlrGI/AAAAAAAACOY/zkr7pH6TqHA/s1600-h/IMG_0154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTHczlrGI/AAAAAAAACOY/zkr7pH6TqHA/s320/IMG_0154.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199708263488531554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted any photos of Parker in the last few weeks so I guess I will today. Like all kids, he likes the water and he had a lot of fun playing with the hose. These were taken before I had time to mow the crabgrass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8995255129029008037?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8995255129029008037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8995255129029008037&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8995255129029008037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8995255129029008037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-havent-posted-any-photos-of-parker-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkTF8zlrDI/AAAAAAAACOA/G489vGbA_30/s72-c/IMG_0134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-156120569539100451</id><published>2008-05-04T22:19:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T21:07:49.055-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkFhMzlrBI/AAAAAAAACNw/q2F4L6ze-sM/s1600-h/IMG_0119.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkFhMzlrBI/AAAAAAAACNw/q2F4L6ze-sM/s320/IMG_0119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199693312707374098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkFhszlrCI/AAAAAAAACN4/wKmKffw4Ttk/s1600-h/IMG_0170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkFhszlrCI/AAAAAAAACN4/wKmKffw4Ttk/s320/IMG_0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199693321297308706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6O5kj3l9I/AAAAAAAACJw/ASJuFe9-eF0/s1600-h/IMG_0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6O5kj3l9I/AAAAAAAACJw/ASJuFe9-eF0/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196748139749939154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6O6Ej3l_I/AAAAAAAACKA/d9V943Uf3bk/s1600-h/IMG_0076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6O6Ej3l_I/AAAAAAAACKA/d9V943Uf3bk/s320/IMG_0076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196748148339873778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6OdUj3l4I/AAAAAAAACJI/p59pKL1cy-o/s1600-h/IMG_0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6OdUj3l4I/AAAAAAAACJI/p59pKL1cy-o/s320/IMG_0087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747654418634626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Odkj3l5I/AAAAAAAACJQ/WB6Ccrp5fp4/s1600-h/IMG_0094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Odkj3l5I/AAAAAAAACJQ/WB6Ccrp5fp4/s320/IMG_0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747658713601938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Od0j3l6I/AAAAAAAACJY/5ka76RMrlX0/s1600-h/IMG_0104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Od0j3l6I/AAAAAAAACJY/5ka76RMrlX0/s320/IMG_0104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747663008569250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6OeEj3l7I/AAAAAAAACJg/w_2m8ciYgu0/s1600-h/IMG_0092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6OeEj3l7I/AAAAAAAACJg/w_2m8ciYgu0/s320/IMG_0092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747667303536562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Oekj3l8I/AAAAAAAACJo/lY7PuywBNWs/s1600-h/IMG_0106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SB6Oekj3l8I/AAAAAAAACJo/lY7PuywBNWs/s320/IMG_0106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747675893471170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out irrigating yesterday at 6:30 AM and was delighted to see a flock of white-faced ibis land in the pasture, along with a pair of mallards who seem to think it is their home as evidenced by the drake's surprise attack on another pair who attempted to land. Anyway, I thought I'd post a couple of photos of the ibis as well as some other birds who have recently been spotted. There are photos of a turtle dove (probably escaped from someone's coop), lazuli buntings, northern (red-shafted flickers), white-crowned sparrows,  and a bonus photo of our recently sheared sheep, the ewe can be identified by the numerous wounds on her body which were given first aid by JoAnn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-156120569539100451?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/156120569539100451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=156120569539100451&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/156120569539100451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/156120569539100451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-was-out-irrigating-yesterday-at-630.html' title=''/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SCkFhMzlrBI/AAAAAAAACNw/q2F4L6ze-sM/s72-c/IMG_0119.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-8759904389766652217</id><published>2008-04-14T23:36:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T22:55:37.223-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Science vs Religion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.deseretbook.com/product-images/large/499/4996433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 318px;" src="http://images.deseretbook.com/product-images/large/499/4996433.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading the biography of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Eyring"&gt;Henry Eyring&lt;/a&gt;, a Nobel prize-class chemist who was also a very orthodox &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/"&gt;Mormon&lt;/a&gt;. The title of the book is "&lt;a href="http://deseretbook.com/store/product?sku=4996433"&gt;Mormon Scientist"&lt;/a&gt;. One facet of the book that fascinates me is the discussion throughout about Dr. Eyring's ability to reconcile science and religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"I have been announced as a student of science. But I also like to think of myself as one who loves the Gospel of Jesus Christ. For me, there has been no serious difficulty in reconciling the principles of true science with the principles of true religion, for both are concerned with the eternal verities of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;And yet there are many people, and particularly among our youth, who regard the field of science and the field of religion as two wholly different spheres, the one entirely separated from and unrelated to the other. In fact, there are those in both fields who have done themselves and the causes to which they give their interests a distinct disservice in teaching that the two are opposed and that they cannot be harmonized with each other."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;As a scientist myself, MS in botany, &lt;a href="http://lifesciences.byu.edu/home"&gt;BYU&lt;/a&gt; 1976, this subject is of great interest to me (OK, I was a scientist 30 years ago and not since, but I'm still interested in science).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Henry argued that apparent conflicts between science and religion are the result of incomplete understanding, an inevitability given our modest intelligence relative to God's. In the case of the creation of man and the Earth, for instance, he recognized the incompleteness of both scientific and religious understanding of the complex processes involved. He was sure, though, that however man and the Earth were created, "God was at the helm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Dr. Eyring wrote this response to a person who had written him about a scheme for "dismantling Evolution once and for all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"As a devout Latter-Day Saint the important fact for me is that the Lord is directing the affairs in His Universe, not exactly how He does it. Whether or not some organic evolution was used or is operating seems to me to be beside the point. He is infinitely wise. I just work here. If He told me in detail how He works I'm sure I wouldn't understand much of it. The effort spent on the crusade you envision would be better spent trying to understand a little better how God works. Sorry if we see things a little differently."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;When asked by one of his scientific colleagues who was also a member of the church, "How do you think it was?" referring to the apparent problems with evolution and early man, Dr. Eyring replied "I believe whichever way it turns out to have actually been."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In response to another letter from a crusader with a scheme to defend religion against science, Dr. Eyring wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"We are not told who Adam's father was. To me the important thing is that Adam is the spirit child of God. He came into this world when he received a mortal body. The Fall consisted of becoming subject to death, and everyone born into the world is subject to death and so partakes of this fallen state with Adam. Finally, through the atonement we will all receive a resurrected body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether Adam's father lived on this earth or somewhere else would seem of secondary importance to me. Adam was the one whom God recognized as presiding over the first dispensation and as such, with Eve, his wife, became our first parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God did or did not use organic evolution to prepare the bodies to house His spirit children I remain unconcerned. I think the scientific evidence on organic evolution, like everything else, should stand or fall on its merits. Being trained as a geologist, it answers many otherwise difficult problems for me, and I find no conflict with it and the Gospel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;This attitude of Dr. Eyring's reminds me of something &lt;a href="http://farms.byu.edu/viewauthor.php?authorID=2"&gt;Hugh W. Nibley&lt;/a&gt; wrote in an essay entitled "&lt;a href="http://farms.byu.edu/display.php?table=transcripts&amp;amp;id=73"&gt;Before Adam&lt;/a&gt;". Hugh Winder Nibley was one of Mormonism's most celebrated scholars. The following is a quote from that work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do not begrudge existence to creatures that looked like men long, long ago,    nor deny them a place in God's affection or even a right to exaltation—for    our scriptures allow them such. Nor am I overly concerned as to just when they    might have lived, for their world is not our world. They have all gone away    long before our people ever appeared. God assigned them their proper times and    functions, as he has given me mine—a full-time job that admonishes me    to remember his words to the overly eager Moses: "For mine own purpose have    I made these things. Here is wisdom and it remaineth in me." (Moses 1:31.) It    is Adam as my own parent who concerns me. When he walks onto the stage, then    and only then the play begins. He opens a book and starts calling out names.    They are the sons of Adam, who also qualify as sons of God, Adam himself being    a son of God. This is the book of remembrance from which many have been blotted    out. They have fallen away, refused to choose God as their father, and by so    doing were registered in Satan's camp. "Satan shall be their father, and misery    shall be their doom." (Moses 7:37.) Can we call them sons of Adam, &lt;i&gt;bene-Adam,    &lt;/i&gt;human beings proper? The representative Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks,    and Romans, to name only the classic civilizations of old, each fancied themselves    to be beings of a higher nature, nearer to gods than others who inhabited the    land with them (and before them), or who dwelt in other lands. And yet they    did not deny humanity to them.  Adam becomes Adam, a hominid becomes a man, when he starts keeping a record.    What kind of record? A record of his ancestors—the family line that sets    him off from all other creatures."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are worried about how new scientific discoveries (which seem to occur almost weekly) may or may not have a bearing on some aspect or other of the revealed Gospel, a good place to get information about scientific discoveries and their relationship to the Church is the &lt;a href="http://www.fairlds.org/webguide.html"&gt;Foundation for Apologetic Information &amp;amp; Research (FAIR)&lt;/a&gt;. FAIR is a non-profit organization dedicated to providing well-documented answers to criticisms of LDS doctrine, belief and practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="contentTitle"&gt;Another very interesting essay by Dr. Nibley is "&lt;a href="http://farms.byu.edu/display.php?table=transcripts&amp;amp;id=51"&gt;Archaeology and Our Religion&lt;/a&gt;". The continuing debate of Science vs Religion, with the particular science debating religion being archaeology, is discussed, with archaeology (is it a science or an art?) coming out looking rather ragged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent article in the &lt;a href="http://deseretnews.com/home"&gt;Deseret News&lt;/a&gt; shows how a seemingly small discovery can change an entire scientific outlook. Who knows when the next discovery will occur? Who knows how the landscape of scientific knowledge will change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="7" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="left" valign="top" width="50%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://deseretnews.com/archives/rware/images/mastsm.gif" alt="deseretnews.com" height="22" width="191" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;  &lt;td align="right" valign="bottom" width="50%"&gt; &lt;span arial="" style=";font-family:Geneva,Sans;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="HIT0000" href="http://deseretnews.com/cgi-bin/cqcgi_plus/@plus.env?CQ_SESSION_KEY=ZUMACZWFPWAN&amp;amp;CQ_CUR_DOCUMENT=3&amp;amp;CQ_TEXT_MAIN=YES#BESTHIT"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, April 4, 2008&lt;br /&gt;Deseret News&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span arial="" style=";font-family:Geneva,Sans;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="bottom" width="7"&gt;&lt;img src="http://deseretnews.com/i/xclear.gif" height="1" width="7" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana,Helvetica,Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Humans in N. America over 14,000 years ago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://deseretnews.com/i/xclear.gif" alt="" height="4" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana,Helvetica,Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia,Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;     WASHINGTON (AP) — New evidence shows humans lived in North America more than 14,000 years ago, 1,000 years earlier than had previously been known.&lt;br /&gt;Discovered in a cave in Oregon, fossil feces yielded DNA indicating these early residents were related to people living in Siberia and East Asia, according to a report in Thursday's online edition of the journal Science.&lt;br /&gt;"This is the first time we have been able to get dates that are undeniably human, and they are 1,000 years before Clovis," said Dennis L. Jenkins, a University of Oregon &lt;a name="FIRSTHIT"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="BESTHIT"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="LASTHIT"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="LEASTHIT"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="HIT0001"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;archaeologist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, referring to the Clovis culture, well known for its unique spear-points that have been studied previously.&lt;br /&gt;Humans are widely believed to have arrived in North America from Asia over a land-bridge between Alaska and Siberia during a warmer period. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;A variety of dates has been proposed and some are in dispute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://deseretnews.com/cgi-bin/cqcgi_plus/@plus.env?CQ_SESSION_KEY=VNLWCFAWOYZN&amp;amp;CQ_CUR_DOCUMENT=3&amp;amp;CQ_TEXT_MAIN=YES"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="body"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="body"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-8759904389766652217?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/8759904389766652217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=8759904389766652217&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8759904389766652217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/8759904389766652217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/science-vs-religion.html' title='Science vs Religion'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3435533850608704026</id><published>2008-04-14T22:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T17:28:40.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parker's Haircut</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SAQ0X36iDsI/AAAAAAAACGs/3WZGx9l_npQ/s1600-h/IMG_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189330255388741314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SAQ0X36iDsI/AAAAAAAACGs/3WZGx9l_npQ/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dustin came over tonight and gave Parker his summer haircut. He was well behaved other than moving his head around constantly. For a complete slide show, click on this &lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fricksterbus%2Falbumid%2F5189324268204330401%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3435533850608704026?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3435533850608704026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3435533850608704026&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3435533850608704026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3435533850608704026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/parkers-haircut.html' title='Parker&apos;s Haircut'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/SAQ0X36iDsI/AAAAAAAACGs/3WZGx9l_npQ/s72-c/IMG_0067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7401680916135602443</id><published>2008-04-13T22:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T22:49:38.551-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gin House</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;Since I don't have any new pictures of Parker this week, and since Senta and  Burke have posted videos on their blogs, and since I wanted to learn how to post videos, that is what I am doing this week. This is  a song I first heard on a bootleg video of an Eric Clapton concert from Japan. It has not been on any of his albums and I don't think it has been a regular song played at his concerts and especially not anymore since AFL was replaced.  I believe it comes from one of AFL's previous bands, Amen Corner. Let me know if I am wrong. &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjRI8LXChus&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjRI8LXChus&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7401680916135602443?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7401680916135602443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7401680916135602443&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7401680916135602443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7401680916135602443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/gin-house.html' title='Gin House'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-9005560034900397423</id><published>2008-04-07T23:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T23:16:01.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_r_eQOnizI/AAAAAAAACDM/_r8Kd39_5xA/s1600-h/IMG_0050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186738816087984946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_r_eQOnizI/AAAAAAAACDM/_r8Kd39_5xA/s320/IMG_0050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_r_ewOni0I/AAAAAAAACDU/lMuy5odubMo/s1600-h/IMG_0051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186738824677919554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_r_ewOni0I/AAAAAAAACDU/lMuy5odubMo/s320/IMG_0051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Sunday, after conference, JoAnn made a cake (Greg said it was the best cake he'd ever eaten even though it came from a mix and even though I made a from scratch cake every Sunday until he was 18 years old) and I made some frosting for it (maybe that's why Greg liked it so much). I gave Parker a spoon with some frosting on it and put the cake on the island in the kitchen. I went in the other room for a minute and I heard Dustin laughing. He had caught Parker using his spoon to reach up and scoop frosting off of the cake. It took me a while to find the camera; that's why he doesn't have his spoon in his hand. He's not tall enough to see over the pan but he knew what he wanted. Kind of reminds me of Senta's dog Remy who can snatch anything off the counter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-9005560034900397423?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/9005560034900397423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=9005560034900397423&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9005560034900397423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/9005560034900397423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-sunday-after-conference-joann-made.html' title=''/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_r_eQOnizI/AAAAAAAACDM/_r8Kd39_5xA/s72-c/IMG_0050.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3872953268523278351</id><published>2008-04-01T22:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T22:20:59.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJigOnipI/AAAAAAAACBE/SCm2SWBegaE/s1600-h/IMG_1259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184498084405021330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJigOnipI/AAAAAAAACBE/SCm2SWBegaE/s320/IMG_1259.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJjQOniqI/AAAAAAAACBM/4Sz11FrSH44/s1600-h/IMG_1260.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184498097289923234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJjQOniqI/AAAAAAAACBM/4Sz11FrSH44/s320/IMG_1260.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJkAOnirI/AAAAAAAACBU/xt_tIGwQmY8/s1600-h/IMG_1265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184498110174825138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJkAOnirI/AAAAAAAACBU/xt_tIGwQmY8/s320/IMG_1265.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJkgOnisI/AAAAAAAACBc/ZS7Cv_NMYs0/s1600-h/IMG_1267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184498118764759746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJkgOnisI/AAAAAAAACBc/ZS7Cv_NMYs0/s320/IMG_1267.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Easter this year came early. Not early in the morning but early in the year; March 23rd to be exact. As I understand it, Easter falls on the first Sunday after the first full moon, after the vernal equinox (the first day of spring). Hard to imagine how it could come any earlier since the VE was Thursday and the full moon was on Friday. Anyway, we ate Easter dinner and then let Parkie hunt for Easter eggs; a weird and worthless tradition in my opinion. I can understand and even applaud the giving of candy at Easter, especially the malted milk robin eggs, but Easter egg hunting, I don't think so. At least we don't run out and find a hill and roll the Easter eggs down the hill like my family did when I was a kid. Although the time Doug threw an egg and hit a seagull in flight when we were egg rolling on the grounds of the State Capital was fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3872953268523278351?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3872953268523278351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3872953268523278351&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3872953268523278351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3872953268523278351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/04/easter-2008.html' title='Easter 2008'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R_MJigOnipI/AAAAAAAACBE/SCm2SWBegaE/s72-c/IMG_1259.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-7439447033588365859</id><published>2008-03-16T23:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T23:23:40.411-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parkie the Cowboy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R94AUYg8d7I/AAAAAAAAB5Y/ZP4MzmCpCsE/s1600-h/IMG_1236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178576971700664242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R94AUYg8d7I/AAAAAAAAB5Y/ZP4MzmCpCsE/s320/IMG_1236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R94AU4g8d8I/AAAAAAAAB5g/yLf_irDkXh8/s1600-h/IMG_1238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178576980290598850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R94AU4g8d8I/AAAAAAAAB5g/yLf_irDkXh8/s320/IMG_1238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I mentioned last week, now that Parker is wearing his cowboy hat, the next order of business is to get him to wear his cowboy boots. It seems he is amenable to almost anything if it means he gets to go outside and do the chores (feed the animals and rake the gravel). As you can see, JoAnn's plan is working. The next step is to get his portrait taken in his cowboy gear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-7439447033588365859?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/7439447033588365859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=7439447033588365859&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7439447033588365859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/7439447033588365859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/03/parkie-cowboy.html' title='Parkie the Cowboy'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R94AUYg8d7I/AAAAAAAAB5Y/ZP4MzmCpCsE/s72-c/IMG_1236.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3890761189941868218</id><published>2008-03-12T21:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T21:57:16.620-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Parkie the Worker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il1og8d4I/AAAAAAAAB5A/4IknXO_E_EI/s1600-h/IMG_1212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177070112489633666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il1og8d4I/AAAAAAAAB5A/4IknXO_E_EI/s320/IMG_1212.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il2og8d5I/AAAAAAAAB5I/e_dDrrbJb0A/s1600-h/IMG_1211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177070129669502866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il2og8d5I/AAAAAAAAB5I/e_dDrrbJb0A/s320/IMG_1211.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il3Ig8d6I/AAAAAAAAB5Q/X0cG8sm0w7Q/s1600-h/IMG_1209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177070138259437474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il3Ig8d6I/AAAAAAAAB5Q/X0cG8sm0w7Q/s320/IMG_1209.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since Parker could walk, he has been fascinated by anything with a long handle; brooms, shovels, rakes, etc. Last summer, he used to pick up a shovel or hoe and work with me in the garden. I'm looking forward to more help this year. And its not like he just pulls the tool around, he really works it, getting his entire body behind it. These photos were taken one night last week after he had helped me feed the animals and there was still a little light left in the day. By the way, JoAnn got him the cowboy hat for christmas and he didn't like to wear it much. However, when we go outside, I just say "where's your hat" and he runs over and gets it. We're going to try and do the same with his cowboy boots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3890761189941868218?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3890761189941868218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3890761189941868218&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3890761189941868218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3890761189941868218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/03/parkie-worker.html' title='Parkie the Worker'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R9il1og8d4I/AAAAAAAAB5A/4IknXO_E_EI/s72-c/IMG_1212.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-6547687087395383035</id><published>2008-03-02T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T20:25:25.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Face</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8uU9lqc4YI/AAAAAAAABjg/DmkuG8Uvbo4/s1600-h/2005-02-24+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173392382768243074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8uU9lqc4YI/AAAAAAAABjg/DmkuG8Uvbo4/s320/2005-02-24+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A couple of years ago, we bought a bunch of ducklings. Due to various causes, we ended up with three full-grown ducks, two males and one female. What this meant was that one of the drakes ended up on the outside while the other male and the female became a couple. This also meant that the lonely drake was always trying to cut into the action and the two drakes were always fighting. In order to stop the fights, we decided to give the outside drake away and posted a notice for a free duck over at IFA. When the new owner came to take possession of his duck, it was hunkered down in a previously flooded (meaning muddy) section of the coop. When I tried to capture him, he understandably quacked and flapped and tried to escape. As he flapped (and flapped and flapped) he splashed mud all over me. I immediately went in the house and took this picture of myself for posterity (click on the photo to get the full effect).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-6547687087395383035?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/6547687087395383035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=6547687087395383035&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6547687087395383035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/6547687087395383035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/03/dirty-face.html' title='Dirty Face'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8uU9lqc4YI/AAAAAAAABjg/DmkuG8Uvbo4/s72-c/2005-02-24+019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3613845105955380758</id><published>2008-02-27T19:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T20:25:16.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil Eye Animals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8Ye9K9L6zI/AAAAAAAABfg/70NWhXXe_8o/s1600-h/2005-02-24+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171855258343435058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8Ye9K9L6zI/AAAAAAAABfg/70NWhXXe_8o/s320/2005-02-24+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeU69L6uI/AAAAAAAABe4/9CmhkFrYlqI/s1600-h/P6240108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171854566853700322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeU69L6uI/AAAAAAAABe4/9CmhkFrYlqI/s320/P6240108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeVK9L6vI/AAAAAAAABfA/GbvPaP5yXb4/s1600-h/2005-02-24+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeVq9L6wI/AAAAAAAABfI/bk2OhLs-8go/s1600-h/2005-02-24+030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171854579738602242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeVq9L6wI/AAAAAAAABfI/bk2OhLs-8go/s320/2005-02-24+030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeWa9L6xI/AAAAAAAABfQ/CiYjwY4W8oo/s1600-h/P6240070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171854592623504146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeWa9L6xI/AAAAAAAABfQ/CiYjwY4W8oo/s320/P6240070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeW69L6yI/AAAAAAAABfY/RdnG3x9ryS0/s1600-h/P6240075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171854601213438754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8YeW69L6yI/AAAAAAAABfY/RdnG3x9ryS0/s320/P6240075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people think that the "evil eye" is a myth. In order to set the record straight, and prove the existence of the "evil eye", at least in the animal kingdom, I am posting these photos. See for yourself! Click on the photos for the full effect!&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/8059321015821084355-3613845105955380758?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3613845105955380758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3613845105955380758&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3613845105955380758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3613845105955380758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/02/evil-eye-animals.html' title='Evil Eye Animals'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R8Ye9K9L6zI/AAAAAAAABfg/70NWhXXe_8o/s72-c/2005-02-24+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8059321015821084355.post-3563489718243946056</id><published>2008-02-13T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T22:04:10.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday dinner February 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PNzq9L6OI/AAAAAAAABYI/dnuDPyK6s0s/s1600-h/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166699485112035554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PNzq9L6OI/AAAAAAAABYI/dnuDPyK6s0s/s320/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN0K9L6PI/AAAAAAAABYQ/sOKvragpskc/s1600-h/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166699493701970162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN0K9L6PI/AAAAAAAABYQ/sOKvragpskc/s320/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN0q9L6QI/AAAAAAAABYY/3Bfc3FUBQ0Q/s1600-h/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166699502291904770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN0q9L6QI/AAAAAAAABYY/3Bfc3FUBQ0Q/s320/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN1K9L6RI/AAAAAAAABYg/AEvRYP4CwUo/s1600-h/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166699510881839378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN1K9L6RI/AAAAAAAABYg/AEvRYP4CwUo/s320/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN1q9L6SI/AAAAAAAABYo/jMAEzhCE9zs/s1600-h/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166699519471773986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PN1q9L6SI/AAAAAAAABYo/jMAEzhCE9zs/s320/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Sunday, February 10, 2008. The Wilcox family gathers at the homestead to enjoy JoAnn's famous ravioli soup. The weather has been nice on this day and some of the snow has melted. Unfortunately, Michele was called in to work at Iggy's and, of course, Richie is "hanging out" with Liz in Arlington, Virginia. I spend most of the evening following Parker around and trying to keep him out of trouble. For some reason, he loves to go into the utility room and fiddle with the furnace and water heater.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8059321015821084355-3563489718243946056?l=itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/feeds/3563489718243946056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8059321015821084355&amp;postID=3563489718243946056&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3563489718243946056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8059321015821084355/posts/default/3563489718243946056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itwastheleasticoulddo.blogspot.com/2008/02/sunday-dinner-february-2008.html' title='Sunday dinner February 2008'/><author><name>Rick Wilcox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05025821746777900891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PQB69L6WI/AAAAAAAABZA/nezqTpyXlxY/S220/IMG_0875.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NfjM-W3_mhg/R7PNzq9L6OI/AAAAAAAABYI/dnuDPyK6s0s/s72-c/Sunday+Dinner+Feb+08+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
