tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14362601599536580312024-03-05T20:17:23.758-08:00Grammie and Papa FulkersonLynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-46011822137453712342009-06-01T21:33:00.000-07:002009-06-01T21:59:04.641-07:00Here are my boys - Gary and Mikey - hot-doggin' on 4-WHEEee!-lers in the snow on the road to the Kennecott Copper Mine overlook, up Butterfield Canyon on May 31, 2009. In the middle of the patch, down to the right is a down-right SCARY <strong><em>crevasse </em></strong> in the road that spelled certain doom to the 2 female riders (Lynnell and Allyson), who preferred to trust in their original God-given mode of transportaion and walk across the mooshy patch of ice that skirted the crevasse.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwtajxLlYe08-103Dae1RbG3pTmrk8vQHF7PCHfcEuflq-rBB598bkKEutr_y0A_rAZo9-9PyjThQwee2fcxg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-73099853984772013072009-04-07T08:00:00.001-07:002009-04-07T08:26:57.559-07:00Spring!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMNBJgavyb9Wo_3g9nixPcxuzvMFheVA7Sz8eDbyqbdLswddfECdKjk0Kb9CxTLhI-kIpviiXZnpWvP-MBi4ncGw-YFxcDbj5YxueMHGFmywebqzEAD_R9l_OQj9M21xKV60foFmzQy8/s1600-h/important+book.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMNBJgavyb9Wo_3g9nixPcxuzvMFheVA7Sz8eDbyqbdLswddfECdKjk0Kb9CxTLhI-kIpviiXZnpWvP-MBi4ncGw-YFxcDbj5YxueMHGFmywebqzEAD_R9l_OQj9M21xKV60foFmzQy8/s400/important+book.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321964720654032706" border="0" /></a><br />When I was little, my Aunt Tootie sent me a book (I still have it) called <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">The Important Book</span></span>, by Margaret Wise Brown.<br /><br />When I grew up and had kids, I discovered a Little Golden Book by the same author called <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" >Home for a Bunny</span>.<br /><br />It quickly became a favorite of my children, one I read to them more times than I could count. (I know this, because after 28 years, I can still tell it verbatim, in a sing-song voice).<br /><br /><br />Here are the words, in all their glory:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Home for a Bunny</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJQTtQKEb8GnHOyjgRjr7DQEcQer6VChiscpWsjM603O7RfT0rPQJiVidWPuSQVfKEnP0GlHpBdWr7beEkh1TawyqOJ2PK0oos_cz0Udu6N4CSC8lgQ-ya7TDcHbt60PctxLUpMuloho/s1600-h/home+for+a+bunny.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJQTtQKEb8GnHOyjgRjr7DQEcQer6VChiscpWsjM603O7RfT0rPQJiVidWPuSQVfKEnP0GlHpBdWr7beEkh1TawyqOJ2PK0oos_cz0Udu6N4CSC8lgQ-ya7TDcHbt60PctxLUpMuloho/s400/home+for+a+bunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321964897826834674" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Spring! Spring! Spring! Sang the robin.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Spring! Sang the frog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Spring! Sang the groundhog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It was Spring. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The leaves burst out, the flowers burst out,<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">and robins burst out of their eggs.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It was Spring.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In the Spring a bunny came down the road.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He was going to find a home of his own.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">A home for a bunny, a home of his own, where would a bunny find a home?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Down the road and down the road and<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">down the road he went until</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He met a robin.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where is your home? He asked the robin.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here, sang the robin, here in this nest is my home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here, here, here sang the little robins, here is our</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Not for me, said the bunny. I would fall out of a nest. I would fall on the ground.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So the bunny went on looking for a home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where is your home? He asked the frog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Wog, wog, wog, sang the frog. Here is my home, down in the water, down under the bog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Not for me said the bunny, down in the water I would drown in a bog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So the bunny went on looking for a home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where is your home? He asked the groundhog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here, said the <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1239114498_0">groundhog</span>, here in this log is my home. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Can I come in? asked the bunny.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">No, you can’t come in my log, said the groundhog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So the bunny went on looking for a home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">A home for a bunny, a home of his own, where would a bunny find a home?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Down the road and down the road and down the road he went until</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He met a bunny.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where is your home? He asked the bunny.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here, said the bunny, under this rock, under this stone, down under the ground.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here is my home.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Can I come in? asked the bunny.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Yes, said the bunny.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So he did, and that was his home.</span></p><br />However, I have discovered, since living in Copperton, that the surest sign of Spring is not a sweet little bunny out looking for a new home...<br /><br />It is the left-behind evidence that deer invade my yard at night, munching down and destroying every sprouting tulip in sight. Some are even ripped out of the ground, hal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLtK-jgR1XMHFLcuAKDb0Ki40f1g2K0EJEh3SSWwyhcj-sCyTIhHWIg6mfbvySABg3mfvXSzeTGSGXq6ik00Q0e0RO37vnradhOWKtB7XewKCDOx8SaU38if3PCRPSlVwVMmmCrFjTEs/s1600-h/2009+April+Spring+008.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 428px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLtK-jgR1XMHFLcuAKDb0Ki40f1g2K0EJEh3SSWwyhcj-sCyTIhHWIg6mfbvySABg3mfvXSzeTGSGXq6ik00Q0e0RO37vnradhOWKtB7XewKCDOx8SaU38if3PCRPSlVwVMmmCrFjTEs/s400/2009+April+Spring+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321965527885251106" border="0" /></a>f-eaten and left for me to find the next morning.<br /><br />It is almost as if they are saying,<br /><br />"Ninny-ninny-poo-poo, I ate your tulips! I double dare you to plant tomatoes, 'cause I'll eat them too!"<br /><br />So, Happy <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" >Spring, Spring, Spring! </span>to all of you, and may the deer forget that your yard exists.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-24067718747544082442009-03-18T18:37:00.000-07:002009-03-18T19:00:32.124-07:00:( No camera ):Alas, it is the little things that bug me the most about the recent theft. My hand made magnetic ID badge holder. My camera <span style="font-style: italic;">that I knew how to operate</span>. My Palm Pilot. The dollar-gifts that I was taking to my grandchildren. The little bag of sweet baby things I was transporting for Sara.<br /><br />I can make a new ID badge holder. I can buy a new camera (but it will take me a few weeks to learn how to use it). But I'm not going to get another Palm Pilot. I started adding up how much of my money Palm has gotten over the years, and it is well over $2500. So now I will only carry a "primitive" Palm Pilot - a stack of sticky notes and a pencil. It is true that I'll no longer have OODLES of info at the touch of a stylus. But I have to admit to myself that the sticky notes weigh less. They serve basically the same purpose. They don't break when I drop them. They don't need to be recharged every night. And I won't cry if someone steals them.<br /><br />I feel bad about the hand made rebozo I was taking to my daughter. I spent hours knotting the fringe on that. I miss my insulated pink lunch box. I wish the creep hadn't taken my coolest reuseable shopping tote. I am still picking glass shards out of my seat. My passenger door is non-functional waiting for my sweet hubby to put it back together after reinstalling the window. Ryn got stuck in the car for about a minute the other day because I forgot to let her out.<br /><br />I don't feel safe parking my car in any parking lot but especially not at the fitness center. Momentary panic flashes through my heart when I walk out and don't immediately see my car where I think I parked it.<br /><br />I'll get over it. I hope I don't become complacent. I hope I am able to prioritize and figure out what truly has the most value in my life. I am grateful we weren't injured and grateful to have my family still near me.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-35811232325032539192009-03-09T20:10:00.000-07:002009-03-10T00:28:44.416-07:00Bad Start to a Great DayMarch 9th. 03/09/09. Today started out bad:<br />1. Daylight savings is in full swing. I went swimmin' wit' da wimmin and left the house at 0530. (That's 0430 to you sun-soaked Arizonans who don't practice the Holy Spring Forward Out of Bed Ritual on the 2nd Sunday of March every year.)<br />2. The day was gray, (or shall I say "Grey"?) even at 0530 - to the point that as we crested the rise coming down the hill from Copperton toward Salt Lake, the valley lights could not be seen splayed out before us - not even a faint glow.<br />3. I was late, so I'd grabbed a can of chicken and a can of soup and thrown it in my lunch box. (That turned out ironically funny later.)<br />4. I'd also grabbed my bag of dry clothes to change into, my favorite grocery tote with a brand new NCLEX study guide for a friend at work, and a little gift bag filled with gifts of love from a sister-in-law, a hand made rebozo, and a few dollar-gifts for my grandchildren. (Bummer here.)<br />5. I realized half way to the pool that I'd forgotten my cell phone. (That turned out good later.) But my Palm Pilot was merrily alarming me that I was late. (That was bad.)<br />6. The water was warm but the pool room was cold, and the showers were even colder. (Brrr - it started the shivering that didn't quit 'til hours later.)<br />7. We made it out of the locker room in good time - no rush to get to work. My push-button key actually worked to unlock my car from several paces away. (A lot of good it did to lock the car.)<br />8. Looking in the window, I saw there was glass all over the seat. As I stood staring uncomprehendingly at the mess, Ryn made me aware that it was because her window was broken out.<br />9. And my purse was not the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi71Ml3L8yviiDwugIPAy78_qvGO4U-zAMb1OdqeUvFpawJkK-z_2Z0gwvNMNICrVnERJTEjHslThRGW8p6PE8bEA5fvihwY_j0laOjzs5lS0tAWeKWpT81tcEf3hnbTSdobKu2OAMvI7Y/s1600-h/2009+February+Gary%27s+camera+027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 417px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi71Ml3L8yviiDwugIPAy78_qvGO4U-zAMb1OdqeUvFpawJkK-z_2Z0gwvNMNICrVnERJTEjHslThRGW8p6PE8bEA5fvihwY_j0laOjzs5lS0tAWeKWpT81tcEf3hnbTSdobKu2OAMvI7Y/s400/2009+February+Gary%27s+camera+027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311397641820417970" border="0" /></a>re.<br /><br />10. Did I mention it was snowing?<br /><br />Well, after a 911 call and lots of other frantic calls (on Ryn's cell phone) to cancel credit cards and to call in late for work and to call for a warm ride to get Ryn to work, Gary and I went back to survey the damage.<br /><br />That's when I realized they'd gotten my lunch box, my favorite shopping tote with the textbook, and the gift sack full of goodies. (Hope they enjoyed my lunch!) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_Bf0_tF2Y8ciCuDcqmeh80O83j6IRRh-Ii7zBg0qzrrhzI1c_tp4KkneF7gA55HykctEdtnKzxhfpc0UIGUTvDq7zLP8YQ1VtZr6lnkc7XBPEBEM-s7LME4tVS7FLOsusERZ9GOdyxg/s1600-h/2009+February+Gary%27s+camera+025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 419px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_Bf0_tF2Y8ciCuDcqmeh80O83j6IRRh-Ii7zBg0qzrrhzI1c_tp4KkneF7gA55HykctEdtnKzxhfpc0UIGUTvDq7zLP8YQ1VtZr6lnkc7XBPEBEM-s7LME4tVS7FLOsusERZ9GOdyxg/s400/2009+February+Gary%27s+camera+025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311402533215870530" border="0" /></a>BUT THEY DIDN'T GET RYN'S PURSE! Ninny-ninny-poo-poo! <br /><br />We are counting it as a blessing because it was also in the back seat with the other items tucked under her lunch which was packed in a junkie used grocery bag. As you can see from the first picture, they rifled through the garbage sack in the front seat, so maybe they figured it was just another load of garbage.<br /><br />Look on the bright side - Gary and I got to spend an extra day together (I called in sick for the whole day - still shivering uncontrollably) and we got all the banks and checks and credit cards and replacement driver's license stuff all done, ate out twice and went to a movie (don't bother going to see Watchmen.)<br /><br />And finally, the day ended very happily. I'll let your imaginations run wild. I am blessed. From the bottom of my heart, I wish you a very happy, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">happy </span>March 9th!Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-43443761317719505792009-03-07T14:31:00.001-08:002009-03-07T14:38:24.830-08:00I'm Wired! Check out my new blog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7p9iUw8Tgm01u8fBVB9oEZbbBKZ0Bw4mAizGOu-Xn1lFa-uX7oYCaFgsy5icj2IQ3os1fJhxPkpPhMiRsrbFdHalV4Co4VcCRd7__Ukro0-bY9AxxX1c2ciUje5icv_uc1kxOtJmn_Y/s1600-h/2009+March+010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7p9iUw8Tgm01u8fBVB9oEZbbBKZ0Bw4mAizGOu-Xn1lFa-uX7oYCaFgsy5icj2IQ3os1fJhxPkpPhMiRsrbFdHalV4Co4VcCRd7__Ukro0-bY9AxxX1c2ciUje5icv_uc1kxOtJmn_Y/s400/2009+March+010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310577851280489618" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I have a new blog to show off (and market) my wire creations.<br />Check it out at<br /><br />http//www.lynnell-fulkerson.blogspot.com/Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-10631104230120155542009-03-03T19:20:00.000-08:002009-03-03T20:03:13.826-08:00Will it be an office or a bedroom?<br />As Ryn and I plan toward taking our jobs home next Fall, we have settled on my spare (guest) bedroom as the best spot for both of us. The compromise with this is that she will have to house any and all company that comes to Copperton for a visit. The reason is HIPAA. The health insurance portability and accountability act. Let me tell you straight up front, that I never knew HIPAA until I started working for a health insurance company. Yeah, I worked for years as a nurse, and yeah, I've been to the doctor's office and the pharmacy and signed their little statements, but that is <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">nothing</span> compared to the rigamarole involved in protecting personal health information when you work for an insurance company. So anyway, the bedroom can't be a bedroom anymore if it is going to be an office. I gotta get rid of my hide-a-bed couch - maybe take it to the living room and get rid of the piece of second hand store junk in there :) That would also mean redecorating the living room :))<br /><br />So I spent an hour o<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgy8910F61rsWxO5OXbNfv3u5-sk9JAoxg9VnDT6wx7hCjDXxBUzKokrfFa1F7Kj0H38frcT8ynMRXojyd3sMO7jAkyLGvM8i4KqlHH16tD9Y-XOLlJJlmvpjVs7qypSDsihZu5X_V2U/s1600-h/2009+February+014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgy8910F61rsWxO5OXbNfv3u5-sk9JAoxg9VnDT6wx7hCjDXxBUzKokrfFa1F7Kj0H38frcT8ynMRXojyd3sMO7jAkyLGvM8i4KqlHH16tD9Y-XOLlJJlmvpjVs7qypSDsihZu5X_V2U/s200/2009+February+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309169842170369410" border="0" /></a>n Saturday looking at computer desk options at IKEA. This is the one I liked the most - It is two sorta rounded desks bumped up together. There were also a couple of corner cabinet desks that were very roomy. Maybe if those were lockable it could still be a bedroom in the off hours.<br /><br />So what do you think?Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-32671363347046441582009-02-14T16:50:00.000-08:002009-02-14T17:12:52.272-08:00The Other Blue Box<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oN5Ohdwq6pTtbJQxFyWReS4L4nm2adZQD5JzhKvmF5bn5kusu5mLcMYEgLYo8tqXzm14hKHDDOjikA3l3h1MbZVxbEfaTxKnq7mzMZC7J3OKE6TX1etmJ55S2GpFfVxco5kR2H78nSE/s1600-h/strawberry-horiz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oN5Ohdwq6pTtbJQxFyWReS4L4nm2adZQD5JzhKvmF5bn5kusu5mLcMYEgLYo8tqXzm14hKHDDOjikA3l3h1MbZVxbEfaTxKnq7mzMZC7J3OKE6TX1etmJ55S2GpFfVxco5kR2H78nSE/s200/strawberry-horiz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302825502461130290" border="0" /></a><br />Since I was the only one on the Get Ready for Summer blog who was not losing weight, I decided to counterattack: Send chocolate to the enemy.<br /><br />http://theotherbluebox.com/products.html <img src="file:///C:/Users/LYNNEL%7E1/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><br /><br />Check out this site for the world's best fudge and other delicious chocolatized delicacies. I know the owner personally - she's Copperton's best known chef. Her remodeled house could easily show up on the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, her kitchen is certified spotless by the health department, her family is sweet and precious, and she herself is the picture of Barbie-doll loveliness. When I grow up, I wanna be like her. And the guys in town are all secretly jealous of her husband because (to quote Gary) "He rides a motorcycle to work and flies helicopters all day, poor guy." Actually he is one of Copperton's military heroes after serving honorably and returning to our community unharmed. Now anytime a helicopter buzzes town, we just figure he's saying hi to his girls.<br /><br />Really now, check out that site. Eat up. Happy Valentines Day.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-51249075137643694962009-02-03T20:27:00.000-08:002009-02-03T21:00:44.216-08:00Paint chips and painted walls<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWuD3mQMftJi4J-8osRqNXjp2sYTz0dnqnQf9sRYXVyk-CkcEeZK8-kt00sJHZ6nUaDiXhsSpDNiATRMa4vw7gYeo3u1lK8iCwmdL8E0dT5-cXfEsynUiGYa-lEbVoHCSioXwFgov4zA/s1600-h/2009+Feb+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWuD3mQMftJi4J-8osRqNXjp2sYTz0dnqnQf9sRYXVyk-CkcEeZK8-kt00sJHZ6nUaDiXhsSpDNiATRMa4vw7gYeo3u1lK8iCwmdL8E0dT5-cXfEsynUiGYa-lEbVoHCSioXwFgov4zA/s320/2009+Feb+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298797754746990962" border="0" /></a><br />When I was young, mom would repaint the house every few years. It seemed she always picked a color that was actually white and just pretended to be another color. Like pinkish white or greenish white. You could hardly tell where you had been painting because whitish strokes on top of whitish walls still looked white.<br /><br />Well, I thought I was choosing a very mild yellow for my bathroom. I was planning to paint the entire room yellow then add in some pink, violet <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6AC5qZhSRXCIFr1Upt8nQ6UqqYifGCPaMQRPK7aUTnnpwYaUe3hW4lOs8op9PWv62ZlDsI5O7f-K_pfMFowA3hn-4IHAWU_uyD7HB5oqkl128SK6ilosJL5lVnuArERF7a9IuyHteUU/s1600-h/2009+Feb+009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6AC5qZhSRXCIFr1Upt8nQ6UqqYifGCPaMQRPK7aUTnnpwYaUe3hW4lOs8op9PWv62ZlDsI5O7f-K_pfMFowA3hn-4IHAWU_uyD7HB5oqkl128SK6ilosJL5lVnuArERF7a9IuyHteUU/s320/2009+Feb+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298798115449855986" border="0" /></a>and green accents. My 80 year old bathtub is that same color pink and I need to work around it since I am not quite ready to rip it out and completely remodel the bathroom.<br /><br />Good grief! As you can see, the bathroom is now Neon Yield Sign yellow! The really funny thing is that it matches the paint chip exactly.<br /><br />I am beginning to see why mom always chose white with the barest hint of color. I guess I am a color chicken, 'cause I just went to WalMart and bought a can of antique white. Tomorrow after work, I'll cover up the loud yellow. Might take several coats. Then maybe I will use a kitchen scratcher pad lightly dipped in paint to add in some mild accents of pink, lilac and green. And maybe some yellow.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-30622282141449223702009-01-31T22:03:00.000-08:002009-01-31T22:29:28.199-08:006th Annual Copperton Chili Cook-offWell, the long-awaited event is over. Last year I slaved over my stove and crock pot for hours, and spent a bundle on all the ingredients. For years, I've had a "secret" ingredient for chili - cocoa powder. It is a truly authentic Mexican chili ingredient. I didn't win last year. Well, I decided several months ago what "recipe" I was going to cook up for this year's event: Wendy's chili. Yep. Wendy's as in the fast food chain. It took 7 large chili tubs to fill my crock pot. (Cost: about $16.) I nuked the tubs for a minute to heat 'em up before I dumped 'em in, then I put the lid on and packed it up and headed out for the Cook-off. I didn't win, but my crock-pot was empty and I had none to bring home. And Ellen Johnson, the fudge-queen of Copperton, used my secret ingredient in her chili this year, and she DID win. Go figure. Ellen is one of those people with a talent for all things chocolate. She has a fudge-making home business that is going national. The Lion's Club this last year hired her to make 600 lbs of fudge at Christmas, which they distributed to all Copperton homes. It was yummy.<br />While I am on the subject of chili, I have a family history story to tell. Once, back in Canyon, Texas, the little branch we were in held a social gathering. Granjo brought chili and everyone raved about it. Someone asked her for the recipe, and I can still hear her tell it: (think of her sweet Texas drawl as you read this) "Oh, gosh, take 2 cans Wolf Brand chili, put it on the stove to heat. Burn it nice and black on the bottom, then scrape out what you can into a clean pot and serve it up hot."<br />Maybe I'll enter her recipe next year.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-12702833139055409772009-01-22T20:52:00.001-08:002009-01-22T21:04:17.485-08:00So proud to be an American<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJppJ8bGA8f28f3a-L8L_CSbb5BXfgw-D84C957hnjxIft7qhYO11s6Tn-nU6iDr3NTYpRLCLulSM1wqEuOA6X1zU5Cl4LDokZOh6sru4PFQe7s6mW70GEfJ0KyQD0jMmmJ0LzbiOYReE/s1600-h/Steve's+Retirement+049.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294350362638246882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJppJ8bGA8f28f3a-L8L_CSbb5BXfgw-D84C957hnjxIft7qhYO11s6Tn-nU6iDr3NTYpRLCLulSM1wqEuOA6X1zU5Cl4LDokZOh6sru4PFQe7s6mW70GEfJ0KyQD0jMmmJ0LzbiOYReE/s320/Steve's+Retirement+049.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIG419imbXWTOp_56jyXC-DIThNeSTkKXBhjYjNmve_-vWn8UoUl8HIldDvr63C0uLoW8Gh8VElWyWIMWw2xVCRLRWWRGcY5rq4KVfC6ZfH7F0-TRnwequXEmENpoSti9-7qodnfFcCCI/s1600-h/Steve's+Retirement+041.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294348823779787586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIG419imbXWTOp_56jyXC-DIThNeSTkKXBhjYjNmve_-vWn8UoUl8HIldDvr63C0uLoW8Gh8VElWyWIMWw2xVCRLRWWRGcY5rq4KVfC6ZfH7F0-TRnwequXEmENpoSti9-7qodnfFcCCI/s320/Steve's+Retirement+041.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I watched my big brother retire from the USAF yesterday. He honorably served our country for 30 years and 2 days. :) He was a Chief Master Sergeant in Civil Engineering, with his last post at Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas. <<<*))))) Woo! Look at all those stripes and ribbons! Look at all that hair! (JK) Karen did the cool stripes decorations for the cake to represent his "journey" up through the ranks. I am proud of my big bro, and so proud to be an American.</div><br /><div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-78925397735754361892009-01-16T19:39:00.000-08:002009-01-16T19:53:43.136-08:00<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;">Exurechy berstiod</span><br />These are "words" to provide verification that you are not a sciving computer trying to illegally post on a blog.<br />I think these cool words deserve a definition. They bring to my mind a very specific thing. Tell me what definition you come up with, and I will tell you mine. Happy wordsmithing.<br />I learned a new Spanish word this week: cremallera (pronounced cray-ma-yair-a). Any guesses on this one?Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-77611093408876074892009-01-15T20:01:00.000-08:002009-01-15T20:11:54.579-08:00Do I have to put it away???<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtaHD7sX49K6wPWHwlZR-8CFfWPRKwujMM4E15YCfobFULQn384GAH7OKsJJ4kkbzg2Tj-7FfiXRak8Zfz4cZxGUa04iJ_thAEFGK9CQfsl5wTY1BgzXEp5wvZskcgNchzUNMwdhysmA/s1600-h/apples.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291739210077807394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtaHD7sX49K6wPWHwlZR-8CFfWPRKwujMM4E15YCfobFULQn384GAH7OKsJJ4kkbzg2Tj-7FfiXRak8Zfz4cZxGUa04iJ_thAEFGK9CQfsl5wTY1BgzXEp5wvZskcgNchzUNMwdhysmA/s320/apples.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUlB12DmMyjm2a6NB51A6m9_W9O2w3_inDXFcZCPzaH586tFdqXGUI0TCLAPFHnN7sVSl46Y5dOygij1NGxlLsaOLFAxrsG5HBSG_8PWSBGD53wKprbp2LolZ-N0OQjbktSADk8vfUdw/s1600-h/cheese.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291739344923516338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 77px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUlB12DmMyjm2a6NB51A6m9_W9O2w3_inDXFcZCPzaH586tFdqXGUI0TCLAPFHnN7sVSl46Y5dOygij1NGxlLsaOLFAxrsG5HBSG_8PWSBGD53wKprbp2LolZ-N0OQjbktSADk8vfUdw/s320/cheese.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym9qPqCOddu95U9F84hJIlrHTkiY70FFyg1hL3Hxc-_2rBd_5ZjDB3meC5UCNqjRolqitvxF81oZ6_rY62KHL9GtknZ0UMx5CXPKLEgzQ-eN8EFsySfB7Z0IUxEZHkohdH5fflhkgbzA/s1600-h/candy+canes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291738907264209442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym9qPqCOddu95U9F84hJIlrHTkiY70FFyg1hL3Hxc-_2rBd_5ZjDB3meC5UCNqjRolqitvxF81oZ6_rY62KHL9GtknZ0UMx5CXPKLEgzQ-eN8EFsySfB7Z0IUxEZHkohdH5fflhkgbzA/s320/candy+canes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>My Christmas deco is still up. Admittedly, I didn't put it up until about December 23rd, and I didn't put up much, but there it still hangs on my wall. The big problem is that there are candy canes. Heaven forbid I should toss them. What a waste of a good 99 cents! Heaven forbid I should eat them. What a <em>waist</em> of 4,500 calories! Papa Lee (Granjo's daddy) used to eat peppermint with apples and cheddar cheese, if I remember right. I guess I could take them to work and sneak them into the kitchen where they would be eaten by someone else. I certainly can't pack them away for next year as I have a mouse in the house and an old man kitty who is falling down on the job. I could also simply wait and do nothing, and eventually my friend who cleans my house will take them all down and pack them away. That's what she did last year. And for Halloween, too. Call me lazy, but there are thousands of things I'd rather do than clean house or put away Christmas.</div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-47354175126041048332009-01-03T11:46:00.000-08:002009-01-03T12:42:19.753-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBocyuVYqiZsvlXJCD7RW9hVolftkGpQgnjYtzXyqN2VOcbDU97btL2C5PxBptcPASs4weh-C4nHNZT7sGRuqSwjtoz3OhyphenhyphenUgx20eeZCl76RRH9yGkLj2V0nlv_2nmUszLOcyLr-TeLE/s1600-h/DSCF0016.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287165531398404306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBocyuVYqiZsvlXJCD7RW9hVolftkGpQgnjYtzXyqN2VOcbDU97btL2C5PxBptcPASs4weh-C4nHNZT7sGRuqSwjtoz3OhyphenhyphenUgx20eeZCl76RRH9yGkLj2V0nlv_2nmUszLOcyLr-TeLE/s320/DSCF0016.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YDGvOyckeNWg7Fse0Kr9gwkf-j72995JZ7L8am8vWBAhZDfyCO0oIIJtOlntRccQl44fxxJ4U0Q2vesogE1Fas0s_jvtw7LCFtvHSTmQKfacSurzOsi3aQSn_15Klm4ykILbNITDTgY/s1600-h/December+08+079.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287157797369152642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YDGvOyckeNWg7Fse0Kr9gwkf-j72995JZ7L8am8vWBAhZDfyCO0oIIJtOlntRccQl44fxxJ4U0Q2vesogE1Fas0s_jvtw7LCFtvHSTmQKfacSurzOsi3aQSn_15Klm4ykILbNITDTgY/s320/December+08+079.JPG" border="0" /></a>Surprise! I actually posted something new! <div></div><div>Happy New Year to all!<br /></div><div>I still enjoy my new job at Aetna, and better yet, RynTinTin just took a job there, so we can carpool and exercise in the mornings together at Curves.</div><div></div><div>Papa just got the 2 snow-mobiles running, and since the weather has generously dowsed us with plenty of the white slippery cold stuff, we'll be off sledding on our next day off.<br /></div><div>Check out the mega-icicles chez-moi. All in all, Utah winters are pretty to look at but not so delightful to live in. Go on and rub it in - Arizona was 78 degrees on Christmas Day.</div><br /><p>We spent Christmas Eve with Lollipop and her Fam; she made clam chowder from scratch for dinner. RonnieRae and SweetChari-oh got princess capes and spent their evening twirling. The CivilWarPres got a BYU blankie. We had Christmas Day dinner at RynTinTin and the Highland Laddie's house - steaks and roast potatoes! Yum!</p><p>Here is the family picture I promised for Christmas. We took this on a 4-Wheeling trip up South Willow Canyon West of Tooele in September.</p><p>Hey, Princess SaraBoo, how do you make your pictures stay put? Mine just seem to clump at the top.</p><p>Hey, Lollipop, how about posting your recipe for clam chowder?</p><p>I made cranberry coleslaw (non-fat, lo sodium, no sugar) for a holiday party. Everybody liked it. I used my food processor to chop 1/2 head of cabbage (I used green but purple would be pretty) and about 1/2 C cranberries (not enough) and about 8 baby carrots (too many). I sprinkled the salad with lemon juice and about 5 packets of sweetener (fresh-squeezed limes woulda been nice). The dressing was 1 C non-fat plain yogurt and about 1/4 tsp lemon extract and 5 packets of sweetener. I gave it a dash of salt substitute and served it on the side. When I make coleslaw, pack the leftovers in 1 C containers and take it to work with me.</p><p>Tabouleh is also nice in the lunch box - It's yummy when made with chopped cranberries and green onions and fresh tomatoes and peperoncini slices and capers. Chopped apple or celery or cucumber or bell pepper, grated banana squash or carrots or zucchini are also yummy. The more lemon or lime juice I add, the less I crave salt. Cranberries freeze nicely in their original packages, and I use them through out the year. Try them in a nice 5-bean salad. </p>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-951190983359057352008-10-25T13:08:00.001-07:002008-10-25T13:16:51.617-07:00New Job!Whoopee! no more holidays, nights or weekends! I can work from home after a year! I actually get bathroom breaks and I get to sit undisturbed for an entire half hour for my lunch! I guess you have to be a nurse to really understand the impact of why I am so excited about these things, but every other newly hired nurse on my team is also in awe. We are pinching ourselves to see if we are dreaming. I am a nurse consultant with Aetna, and I will be working in disease management. I will have my own patients, and I will call them every month or so to check on them.<br />Now that I actually have more free time at home, I am playing with crafts and making Christmas presents. It is just too much fun. Overload! I hit WalMart's fabric and craft section and Michael's yesterday. Today I'm heading to Robert's Crafts. I'm setting up my easy chair with all my crafty projects surrounding me and getting ready for a winter of fun. Hand knit hat, anyone?Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-13630572203646855692008-10-10T11:21:00.000-07:002008-10-10T12:02:03.797-07:00cat-face spiders<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0d5LdV0zcnmhYy8HyJsCBS3bksxmyS8I-Jz5GZgaOMlGB0F0SmxuMbBKTme-6YFhQFF-ER7i2n-36K8xCohCx3F205ZtzV8emNKzXfeVVtf4m1_OEoPDb4rI_CnRzbiHVYv2WDTDvZMM/s1600-h/08+09+sept+garden+010.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255599757538335922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0d5LdV0zcnmhYy8HyJsCBS3bksxmyS8I-Jz5GZgaOMlGB0F0SmxuMbBKTme-6YFhQFF-ER7i2n-36K8xCohCx3F205ZtzV8emNKzXfeVVtf4m1_OEoPDb4rI_CnRzbiHVYv2WDTDvZMM/s320/08+09+sept+garden+010.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1897vnOewPk8G-EwbTwkkNvA4R74tq-xCGPh2sPjV-izweoDBN6IWlu2IOWfmdGbeU3dGYYJGzsiaPCmGN4OqzOh8AyyIlIqL8gAplOLM09U7I_712jsVLb9stc0zADvVk6qZ2spxMQ/s1600-h/08+09+sept+garden+005a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255599432129581570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1897vnOewPk8G-EwbTwkkNvA4R74tq-xCGPh2sPjV-izweoDBN6IWlu2IOWfmdGbeU3dGYYJGzsiaPCmGN4OqzOh8AyyIlIqL8gAplOLM09U7I_712jsVLb9stc0zADvVk6qZ2spxMQ/s320/08+09+sept+garden+005a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34kG8dVrpJltKwF5ZyLJPuOZrXdaVI5oqOXGjIPvEuGcxjZkYMfh6fUxtNWxmEdyZ62E9flUTPt4RSHv1zFVxvZXrrifRNMBvqBuuMz_ZsRHNS-KogtzYAFPPveC316cJv9w0cQmj3yQ/s1600-h/08+09+sept+garden+005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255598411545028978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34kG8dVrpJltKwF5ZyLJPuOZrXdaVI5oqOXGjIPvEuGcxjZkYMfh6fUxtNWxmEdyZ62E9flUTPt4RSHv1zFVxvZXrrifRNMBvqBuuMz_ZsRHNS-KogtzYAFPPveC316cJv9w0cQmj3yQ/s320/08+09+sept+garden+005.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJ0jbnOBg7UG-i9XZJa0jlTUA1NXqisHiDyIkEIcyRukJvgpS2zSifiXpC7yRoEJoJyh8jW4i2zgblqLDwO64C1LqFWuHqZ3F5-yZwpuwXYsGVPPGhHHUtKnSmLeIVVY0yLbZ3EwFQKs/s1600-h/08+09+sept+garden+001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255597550443780338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJ0jbnOBg7UG-i9XZJa0jlTUA1NXqisHiDyIkEIcyRukJvgpS2zSifiXpC7yRoEJoJyh8jW4i2zgblqLDwO64C1LqFWuHqZ3F5-yZwpuwXYsGVPPGhHHUtKnSmLeIVVY0yLbZ3EwFQKs/s320/08+09+sept+garden+001.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1oi-i0mcx47knkNfBP4MRwkH_egtAJGN6ImGh4ytp7J1dhaaz-_64vojG07H1pmZCnE9cLQ63aWC6mprpCVCn2w_pXwR4KtRxolPrXqP9EPa6MbtHQjd3S8WS4jBbxFqUjEADuzONrJ8/s1600-h/08+09+sept+garden+002.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255597141477906002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1oi-i0mcx47knkNfBP4MRwkH_egtAJGN6ImGh4ytp7J1dhaaz-_64vojG07H1pmZCnE9cLQ63aWC6mprpCVCn2w_pXwR4KtRxolPrXqP9EPa6MbtHQjd3S8WS4jBbxFqUjEADuzONrJ8/s320/08+09+sept+garden+002.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqpecgAB1gJXxK9WwC2s0R6MLYKP0uFmE_xtDcZx_7ucvx93gqB5niraYKXvJ9Y_0rctVDVNNqjzuLhg4maVy3F1w9fBwgnp2jAE22Y_rPRQFJb9VETEpklenxXZkZdAV_aMkimcj6B8/s1600-h/08+10+oct+north+willow+039a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255596245071979426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqpecgAB1gJXxK9WwC2s0R6MLYKP0uFmE_xtDcZx_7ucvx93gqB5niraYKXvJ9Y_0rctVDVNNqjzuLhg4maVy3F1w9fBwgnp2jAE22Y_rPRQFJb9VETEpklenxXZkZdAV_aMkimcj6B8/s320/08+10+oct+north+willow+039a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bwLBmAimBLEke7aB4Fu2Mxx1zcNIgy1Uu2GxaT0S-8vGaE9cJCZ27M_7efr_hhG-xeCK6FfYp7qKQ42y8gIx-qySR3Ov-dZUlZ5f5fEh6ghqBVHxuzbtI15yV0d0Xb9JRfl7k_T-sFU/s1600-h/08+10+oct+north+willow+039.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255593909302289938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bwLBmAimBLEke7aB4Fu2Mxx1zcNIgy1Uu2GxaT0S-8vGaE9cJCZ27M_7efr_hhG-xeCK6FfYp7qKQ42y8gIx-qySR3Ov-dZUlZ5f5fEh6ghqBVHxuzbtI15yV0d0Xb9JRfl7k_T-sFU/s320/08+10+oct+north+willow+039.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I have a cat-face spider in my garden. Charlie (the Bonnie Prince of Scotland) and I found her a few weeks ago. She has spun her perfectly symmetrical web on my pot of basil (thank you, Laurel for the pot). While 4-wheeling in North Willow Canyon, west of Grantsville the other day, I found her cousin on a rock in the middle of a brooklet. I am not like Ron Weasley - I <em>like</em> spiders. I prefer them to nasty, irritating flying insects. (though I will kill a black widow or a brown recluse if I find her near my house.) I didn't have my camera at the ready, but when I was painting my steps I found a 3 inch long gray wolf spider. She had pretty brown stripes on her furry back. I shooed her into the grass. I especially like jumping spiders. They are welcome in my kitchen window's potted garden anytime. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-70569500670109481992008-10-07T16:21:00.000-07:002008-10-07T16:41:13.918-07:00The road less traveled by...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9cCCnhNQvYnMgdMu32noCA3_XD6sXuFuzuGdXZ7azTE8jhici57WW5cS5xfmNSWQQCLvxVRfgLCwC_rur9vaP9p_fKeKtfxEbk0zlIjgWuXrXJ3c2deqnL_OOFGtuAUb53YdEDmdgR0/s1600-h/08+10+oct+north+willow+053.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254560661747982466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9cCCnhNQvYnMgdMu32noCA3_XD6sXuFuzuGdXZ7azTE8jhici57WW5cS5xfmNSWQQCLvxVRfgLCwC_rur9vaP9p_fKeKtfxEbk0zlIjgWuXrXJ3c2deqnL_OOFGtuAUb53YdEDmdgR0/s320/08+10+oct+north+willow+053.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNR8vrNbI2mZiwwJBgi1gHZfE0QVP9IRBsj4EkerX9oCFnRJrX6kgNsonn5EwAtYClZxVSoTysa3OMnOzAwQ2jDbdKnr-jTMjOp_bJcpGU3wb_670ZXkTtxPi4K1SqofvtgLhR8L_qeRk/s1600-h/08+10+oct+north+willow+052.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254559135275203074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNR8vrNbI2mZiwwJBgi1gHZfE0QVP9IRBsj4EkerX9oCFnRJrX6kgNsonn5EwAtYClZxVSoTysa3OMnOzAwQ2jDbdKnr-jTMjOp_bJcpGU3wb_670ZXkTtxPi4K1SqofvtgLhR8L_qeRk/s320/08+10+oct+north+willow+052.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br />The Road Not Taken</div><br /><br /><div>Two roads diverged in a yellow wood</div><br /><br /><div>And sorry I could not travel both</div><br /><br /><div>And be one traveller, long I stood</div><br /><br /><div>And looked down one as far as I could</div><br /><br /><div>To where it bent in the undergrowth;</div><br /><br /><div><br />Then took the other, as just as fair,</div><br /><br /><div>And having perhaps the better claim</div><br /><br /><div>Because it was grassy and wanted wear;</div><br /><br /><div>Though as for that, the passing there</div><br /><br /><div>Had worn them really about the same,</div><br /><br /><div><br />And both that morning equally lay</div><br /><br /><div>In leaves no feet had trodden black.</div><br /><br /><div>Oh, I kept the first for another day!</div><br /><br /><div>Yet knowing how way leads on to way,</div><br /><br /><div>I doubted if I should ever come back.</div><br /><br /><div><br />I shall be telling this with a sigh</div><br /><br /><div>Somewhere ages and ages hence:</div><br /><br /><div>Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --</div><br /><br /><div>I took the one less travelled by,</div><br /><br /><div>And that has made all the difference.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Robert Frost</div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-11312041468033142892008-09-30T20:56:00.000-07:002008-09-30T21:16:27.289-07:00an unusual rainshowerThis has happened at my house twice this year - it rains up the street but not down the street. Check out the video.<br /><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy3ciGElOpwogNWG3AdYR-2kYRfhLuVGdfHHZOUMwc5U9LhMTIZf2txZsMhu6LIk4vTyGmF-ZoaAAfKnIz2gw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>This little rainstorm and the one before lasted for about 10 minutes. We are having a nice Indian Summer, don't need the heater and don't need the cooler. Papa has gotten our new heater up in the attic and we are hoping for another week or two of not needing the heater. Papa turns 54 next Monday (6 Oct) and we are going 4-wheeling somewhere. Tomorrow we head out again. Life is good.</p>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-67785218819362233392008-09-30T20:00:00.000-07:002008-09-30T21:20:37.306-07:00American Fork Canyon and my favorite companion<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOb92UsLGYOobhyphenhyphenKdrfhQCkYisTiYNBB3XqGmGoGkUNoOBn63z9ykQHa2VY2PzO9ZZbGyAo4ASMMZDjF0MzJ99iXQ6uThxKaClpta0gqzvZUdA1ktHbHh_MpJEJFHqoU49prE9a4PDi4U/s1600-h/08+09+Sept+28+062.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252026857913656626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOb92UsLGYOobhyphenhyphenKdrfhQCkYisTiYNBB3XqGmGoGkUNoOBn63z9ykQHa2VY2PzO9ZZbGyAo4ASMMZDjF0MzJ99iXQ6uThxKaClpta0gqzvZUdA1ktHbHh_MpJEJFHqoU49prE9a4PDi4U/s320/08+09+Sept+28+062.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgva4tVYfYeOiYp7tWecUeyuB-Ad3t-2YuavZnmJXCXptZ-skzDHVFoRkpw21kmykADy7BLHg3pGzecW9u6d41UZyzbyUegLfEmZdK5YYJQwYYE5LTQiZhtE2zmY2zhFk-YfnOpefJLdTY/s1600-h/American+Fork+stitch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252026344023706210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgva4tVYfYeOiYp7tWecUeyuB-Ad3t-2YuavZnmJXCXptZ-skzDHVFoRkpw21kmykADy7BLHg3pGzecW9u6d41UZyzbyUegLfEmZdK5YYJQwYYE5LTQiZhtE2zmY2zhFk-YfnOpefJLdTY/s320/American+Fork+stitch.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-5526528450442099192008-09-30T19:36:00.000-07:002008-09-30T21:22:01.457-07:00Butterfield Canyon and the North Face of Timpanogos<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7qvfMx3w6HfwnDu_ZaqekG4jUL4pp-6x5M19Z5O-Fxem_120T7uC7GAl3XLdPoqad_lewZHWRtdVyrG7TxmPX-1OyepbAeKb0avmLSKxHVcQFH81bKRRqaDm9kLINd1NsATUZimmzTc/s1600-h/08+09+Sept+28+043.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252013881866004066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7qvfMx3w6HfwnDu_ZaqekG4jUL4pp-6x5M19Z5O-Fxem_120T7uC7GAl3XLdPoqad_lewZHWRtdVyrG7TxmPX-1OyepbAeKb0avmLSKxHVcQFH81bKRRqaDm9kLINd1NsATUZimmzTc/s400/08+09+Sept+28+043.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3fkIv8ufDolQGkkMZ8qHfvqY3yWD_U6bdrxC7Pw4qRubHEmcukTu0aOE8JQFHeSOhZXMhuQ1L3c2G7lgWmxbrI1kNPLH32uaRyxzB8Dn2SQ_l47f_IZH6LSoaXwUPNS6z_tAceSM8wY/s1600-h/08+09+Sept+28+050.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252009479281837810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3fkIv8ufDolQGkkMZ8qHfvqY3yWD_U6bdrxC7Pw4qRubHEmcukTu0aOE8JQFHeSOhZXMhuQ1L3c2G7lgWmxbrI1kNPLH32uaRyxzB8Dn2SQ_l47f_IZH6LSoaXwUPNS6z_tAceSM8wY/s400/08+09+Sept+28+050.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-45578082606926998402008-09-30T18:58:00.000-07:002008-09-30T19:18:49.531-07:00Fall Jewels<span style="font-family:georgia;">Gold and silver, amber, topaz, rubies, emeralds, peridot, diamonds, turquoise and sapphires. </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">We went 4-wheeling up American Fork Canyon yesterday - up past Timpanogos Cave and left toward Tibble Fork Reservoir. The afternoon sun shining through the leaves made them glow like jewels. Like a thousand little neon Christmas lights. The little lakes seen from high above on a trail were unbelievably vivid. I tried taking pictures, but they simply do not do justice to the memory. Timpanogos Peak seen from the north side still has glacial packs of snow on the rugged granite sides of the basin. The aspen trees below it were a carpet of Fall. It brings to mind the poem we used at my daddy's funeral services on the Mogollon Rim in Arizona in mid-September, 1992:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">The wonder of the world</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">The beauty and the power</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">The shape of things</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">Their colors, lights and shades</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">These I saw.</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">Look ye also while life lasts. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">(from an old gravestone)</span>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-30009718597753694402008-09-19T09:58:00.000-07:002008-09-19T10:20:07.167-07:00magic berries<div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQEpSi-shSmgUquhfV-gbfW7VgjN2OqMNrKJz7f4Ga5GqFAEZU2OUDdsLp1KcdYl7EAijh_mKNim24JyIGxF6ZB-j_fnrfr_fm-Tcup5G2pK73s53ZpKqSA1CqjfJFX-AGASAck91xAc/s1600-h/08+09+Sept+047.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247780684095685202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQEpSi-shSmgUquhfV-gbfW7VgjN2OqMNrKJz7f4Ga5GqFAEZU2OUDdsLp1KcdYl7EAijh_mKNim24JyIGxF6ZB-j_fnrfr_fm-Tcup5G2pK73s53ZpKqSA1CqjfJFX-AGASAck91xAc/s320/08+09+Sept+047.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Grammie has learned not to hand to a grandchild any wild berries found growing along the trail. Even if I know what they are. However, I can take as many pictures as I please - nothing potentially poisonous there! Here are bright red rose hips, and something else that is a lovely fall orange. Finally, there is Laurel's future hometown of Monroe as seen from Monroe Mountain on the Piute Trail.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbctKCtlddtMXta_OgdyfPmZCWA2utpoAnE7SIWKI0AIU2NShP6PUOebJh31TfBH00gRLVpX26Qb0Wt6nogLxde7D0xQNUFkw9Oxomyk4530qFqUwqXIcruCtdRwtBj_7DF1uJ7_bqpF4/s1600-h/September+08+Skyline+Drive+003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247781535644365970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="277" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbctKCtlddtMXta_OgdyfPmZCWA2utpoAnE7SIWKI0AIU2NShP6PUOebJh31TfBH00gRLVpX26Qb0Wt6nogLxde7D0xQNUFkw9Oxomyk4530qFqUwqXIcruCtdRwtBj_7DF1uJ7_bqpF4/s320/September+08+Skyline+Drive+003.JPG" width="357" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247782818592239282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEDAhOdJLnQIySfyr64J5MAPXKmX8c_ZJDfwW-P1cCDeQCFUy07t7wNu_VHJ_BrBBODbEKY5rwAWb0jgTrJOJl1VpXTvx4TCnX1hQKCMhVRQbCaViNHWZI6PYWRvbbSNvSdSrwV9dZp8/s320/08+09+Sept+050.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div>Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1436260159953658031.post-37684012859694825852008-09-18T21:22:00.000-07:002008-09-18T21:31:20.658-07:00Painting the front porch stepsPaint the color of terra cotta milk chocolate. It looked like chocolate syrup druzzeling on the cement. I fixed the crumbling cement of the steps last week, so it was time to finish the job. There will soon be snow on my front porch steps. The weather is cooling down, the fall leaves grace the mountain sides, and I'd rather be 4-wheeling up Butterfield Canyon road. I am NOT looking forward to another winter like last year, when the snow drifts became so high that driving to town almost felt like a trip down an icy canal. Like drifting along a levee with ice sides instead of mud.Lynnell Fulkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16463866139435086516noreply@blogger.com2