<?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-24751759</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:26:28.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zbynek &amp; Zdenka ...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-3734076337360115918</id><published>2008-06-15T19:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T20:47:07.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overdue Update ...</title><content type='html'>Happy Father's Day!  Since the rest of the clan has been unhappy with the lack of photos/information from us over the past months, Zdenka and I took some quick ones of the family today and we're posting.&lt;br /&gt;Family ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXVvGqTvDI/AAAAAAAAABU/MzvHZv-5kEE/s1600-h/HPIM1282.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXVvGqTvDI/AAAAAAAAABU/MzvHZv-5kEE/s320/HPIM1282.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212307148969851954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zerricko ... All smiles all the time.  He has recently taken to removing all his clothes (diaper and all) when he wakes up from a nap.  The first time he did it, he peed all over the crib and the floor, he threw his poop across the room, and when Zdenka cleaned it up, she said there were teeth marks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXV56uf0aI/AAAAAAAAABc/OGDSG-aL5y4/s1600-h/HPIM1283.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXV56uf0aI/AAAAAAAAABc/OGDSG-aL5y4/s320/HPIM1283.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212307334744756642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenicka ... What a sweetie!  She took a gymnastics class at the college before school ended, and is so glad to have her siblings home for the summer.  Zdenka will have her in a mothers co-op preschool next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWPw86BTI/AAAAAAAAABk/hNgAGvGnpBs/s1600-h/HPIM1284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWPw86BTI/AAAAAAAAABk/hNgAGvGnpBs/s320/HPIM1284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212307710077961522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kylicko ... Just finished T-Ball.  "Last Batter!!"  He really liked it and has enjoyed going to his sister's softball games too.  He got to strike out his mom to boot!  Next year is 1st grade and full days of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWbtt0u8I/AAAAAAAAABs/Uf5UVhDwNu0/s1600-h/HPIM1285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWbtt0u8I/AAAAAAAAABs/Uf5UVhDwNu0/s320/HPIM1285.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212307915367824322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abernacka ... Just donated her hair to Locks of Love!  Next year is her last year of Grade School, and she is excited for summer.  HJer plans include sleepovers, webkins, sleepovers, reading, sleepovers, travel, and did I mention sleepovers?  Quite the social butterfly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWoBEF-8I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7LJLwxIZHf8/s1600-h/HPIM1287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXWoBEF-8I/AAAAAAAAAB0/7LJLwxIZHf8/s320/HPIM1287.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212308126719933378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Branacka ...  Had a great softball season and will be trying out for all-stars tomorrow.  She gets to go to Middle School next year and enters Young Womens in October.  Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXW0bt743I/AAAAAAAAAB8/o3W3aBhDGnU/s1600-h/HPIM1288.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXW0bt743I/AAAAAAAAAB8/o3W3aBhDGnU/s320/HPIM1288.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212308340033184626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the kids ... guess who's not happy to be in this photo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXXDivJpuI/AAAAAAAAACE/oCUtLUhXI6U/s1600-h/HPIM1279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXXDivJpuI/AAAAAAAAACE/oCUtLUhXI6U/s320/HPIM1279.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212308599615366882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zbynek &amp; Zdenka ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXXg4U0CyI/AAAAAAAAACM/-_QVvr77fpY/s1600-h/HPIM1289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXXg4U0CyI/AAAAAAAAACM/-_QVvr77fpY/s320/HPIM1289.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212309103626685218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT another worm bin.  This is a compost bin that actually looks nice in the garden.  The kids helped me put what we have together.  I think this gave Zdenka some ideas and she wants me to do something like this for a BBQ surround when we build a deck sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXX2gsuWpI/AAAAAAAAACU/ykF80cu3-Iw/s1600-h/HPIM1293.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXX2gsuWpI/AAAAAAAAACU/ykF80cu3-Iw/s320/HPIM1293.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212309475241646738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where we Elk hunted last year.  Iron Mountatin.  Yes, i dragged my sorry behind all the way to the top of this peak ... and then some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXZGLerFCI/AAAAAAAAACc/2qa5hP1JmlI/s1600-h/HPIM0393.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXZGLerFCI/AAAAAAAAACc/2qa5hP1JmlI/s320/HPIM0393.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212310843935101986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and the truck I bought.  And on top of it is the Elk I bagged this last year.  What's that?  You don't see one?  Neither do I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXZfB_sn7I/AAAAAAAAACk/Tdt9sc_Z9bg/s1600-h/IMG_0257.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXZfB_sn7I/AAAAAAAAACk/Tdt9sc_Z9bg/s320/IMG_0257.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212311270885990322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-3734076337360115918?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/3734076337360115918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/3734076337360115918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/overdue-update.html' title='Overdue Update ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/SFXVvGqTvDI/AAAAAAAAABU/MzvHZv-5kEE/s72-c/HPIM1282.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-8676841253550780922</id><published>2007-11-27T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T23:35:03.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sasquatch ...</title><content type='html'>For all of you who think I am a bad blogger, let me be one for you ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kid said something funny yesterday.  I laughed.  Hope you enjoyed that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I really were a bad blogger, that would be where my entry ended.  But so as not to really make anyone angry, I will confess that I am not the best at keeping this thing up to date.  But when I have something to say, I say it.  So, let me tell you the whole story ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been in the potty-training mode with our two-year-old for quite a while.  It seems like the girls are exceedingly (you like that Alyssa?) better than the boys.  She got interested in using the big-girl potty right after she turned two (last December), and she pretty-much has the peeing part down pat.  It is the pooping that we've been having the issue with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time, she will tell us that she needs to go right after she already went.  More times than not, she’s on the potty going number-one, and without any prompting says in the most pathetic tone imaginable, “I don’ need go poo-poo!”  We ask if she does, she says no, and about 10 minutes later she has messy panties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yesterday, I don’t really know what clicked, but she ended up actually pooping in the potty.  It was rather large and a well fought fight, and when she was examining it afterward she said, “It’s a big snake!  And it didn’t even bite me!”  I don’t know where she got this idea of snake poop biting you when you go, but if that was what she was scared of, can you blame her?  Talk about scary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in scouts, one of the scariest campfire stories ever told had absolutely nothing to do with Sasquatch. I was living in Florence, OR and our Stake had a 50-mile trek down the OR coast and dunes.  It took 5 days and on one of the nights, a leader informed us that a prisoner had escaped from jail in a nearby town.  This particular criminal had been on the run and could be in the woods nearby.  The point of all this is that this criminal was rumored to have hidden away in the bowels of the campground outhouses, taken a sharpened spear down with him, and skewered his victims as they were relieving themselves.  We all realized this was a pile of made-up hogwash, but no one used the campground outhouses for the rest of the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other story this brings to mind is what my middle son told me on one family trek across the state.  We had relaxed and played at a city park in Sisters, OR, and as families do before setting out to continue their five-hour car ride, we all went to the potty.  My son was around four at the time and still needed some accompaniment in the rest room ... 'cause they're public and kids have a driving need to touch everything.  He was sitting on the pot and was done going number one.  Someone else had entered the restroom and was using the urinal on the other side of our stall.  I asked if he was all done, and he didn’t answer right away, but then said, “Yeah, I think so.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I need to inform you of some anatomy.  Boys have a PEEPER.  I realize this isn’t the proper name for that extremity, but that’s what we call it in our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I ask my son if he was really done, or if he needed to go poo-poo.  He responds, “No.  I’m finking ‘bout saving up my poo-poos so my peeper gets longer so I can hit you wif it.”  I have no idea where this idea came from.  If guys could really make their peepers longer by just not pooping for a while, trust me, there would be a ton of permanently constapated guys out there.  What I do know is that the guy peeing in the urinal on the other side of the wall heard my son’s response.  I knew this because I heard him trying to not do two things: 1 – not laugh too loud so as not to embarrass my son, and 2 – not pee all over himself as he tried to regain his compose and finish the job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-8676841253550780922?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/8676841253550780922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/8676841253550780922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/11/sasquatch.html' title='Sasquatch ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-3170921500309166640</id><published>2007-08-01T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T19:36:52.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pixar Rival? ...</title><content type='html'>I just found a new Computer Graphics studio that was pretty cool.  They are called Blur Studios and have several short films on YouTube.  I have embedded them here for ease, but as always, if the user pulls the video, the link won't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is called "Gopher Broke."  I liked it the most as it is the closest thing to the Pixar shorts I've seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3wGPyIlsZMM"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3wGPyIlsZMM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is called "In The Rough."  Some of the reviews said the storyline was weak, but I liked it as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VAak2e8WUzk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VAak2e8WUzk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rockfish" is a little more "Final Fantasy" style, but neat to see what is done.  A little bit longer than the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vQ8tHyPkovQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vQ8tHyPkovQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Gentelman's Duel" has a little bit of language and inuendo, but a funny storyline none-the-less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I8YazSnoWM8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I8YazSnoWM8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&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/24751759-3170921500309166640?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/3170921500309166640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/3170921500309166640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/pixar-rival.html' title='Pixar Rival? ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-9001826654227381649</id><published>2007-07-27T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T11:16:05.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Son and Spock ...</title><content type='html'>We named my last child Zerrick Schuyler Jensen.  We came to this name as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother's name is Schuyler.  He is named after our great uncle Schuyler Brown, who raised my grandmother and her sister as his own after their parents died.  Pretty neat guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have looked up to my brother for a long time, and wanted my son to have a name that reminded him of his uncle as well as my great uncle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always liked names that start with Z.  On my mission in Slovakia, I came across two Z names that I wanted for my children:  Zbynek (boy) [Z-BEAN-EK] and Zdenka [Z-DAIN-KA] (girl).  I decided that when I got married, we would have twins and name them this.  My wife promptly thwarted this by not providing twins. (I know it was on purpose.)  I relented and we have relegated these names to things like cars &amp; pets.  But, I still like Z names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Zerrick was born, I knew we wanted to name him after Schuyler, and I still really liked Zbynek Schuyler.  Since Schuyler served his mission in Zurich Switzerland, we started playing with Zurich and got Zerrick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is how we named him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This last week at church, some old guy I've never seen before, after commenting on how cute Zerrick was asked his name.  I told him and after a few moments of reflection said, "Isn't that Spock's Dad's name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it is that my son will forever be a nerd.  Hippies name their kids after Flowers, Fruits, Vegetable, Weed, Granola, and other GREEN things.  Nerds name their kids after Vulcans and Klingons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(btw, Spock's Dad's name is Sarek … thus proving my point about nerds … most of my engineering peers at work, before reading this "btw," were poised to tell me Zerrick was not Spock's Dad's name ... again proving my point about nerds)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-9001826654227381649?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/9001826654227381649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/9001826654227381649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-son-and-spock.html' title='My Son and Spock ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-6060144166189551140</id><published>2007-07-07T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T21:24:28.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We did a little more work on the playset today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I was when I started this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlkH739SI/AAAAAAAAABM/7Ll2yBPUaEM/s1600-h/07_IMG_0414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlkH739SI/AAAAAAAAABM/7Ll2yBPUaEM/s320/07_IMG_0414.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084675650581165346" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put these together last night.  The underground work was a little bit of trouble, but we had Mario and Luigi over to help and we got the job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlZn739RI/AAAAAAAAABE/vj_qGNvwunE/s1600-h/08_IMG_0418.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlZn739RI/AAAAAAAAABE/vj_qGNvwunE/s320/08_IMG_0418.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084675470192538898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is where we finished up today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlOn739QI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pV0pM9GMgeE/s1600-h/13_IMG_0427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlOn739QI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pV0pM9GMgeE/s320/13_IMG_0427.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084675281213977858" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won't be sleeping out on it this evening as we have church at 10am tomorrow, but I have enough finished now that I can call it good for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still have the roof to put on, the smaller tower to construct, the swing beam to laminate, the sandbox (+ lid), and the staining/wood treatment to do.  Overall, it has been fun, but this baby is a lot taller than I thought it would be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-6060144166189551140?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/6060144166189551140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/6060144166189551140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/we-did-little-more-work-on-playset.html' title=''/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RpBlkH739SI/AAAAAAAAABM/7Ll2yBPUaEM/s72-c/07_IMG_0414.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-4963944366104786460</id><published>2007-06-26T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T09:27:23.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playset Progress</title><content type='html'>I have begun building a playset for the kids this summer and there have been some requests for a progress report.  I will do it with photos here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me just finishing up one frame:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9i7FuWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/HGsBoY1BaXE/s1600-h/1_IMG_0198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9i7FuWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/HGsBoY1BaXE/s320/1_IMG_0198.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080409524837178162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little bit taller than I was thinking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9cLFuWyI/AAAAAAAAAAs/qMBcrFqwEaA/s1600-h/2_IMG_0201.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9cLFuWyI/AAAAAAAAAAs/qMBcrFqwEaA/s320/2_IMG_0201.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080409408873061154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that a booger already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9T7FuWxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/PNrCqfkfWSs/s1600-h/3_IMG_0202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9T7FuWxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/PNrCqfkfWSs/s320/3_IMG_0202.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080409267139140370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being held together with 8 little clamps ... where would I be without them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8rbFuWwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/14gQXORKNWo/s1600-h/4_IMG_0206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8rbFuWwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/14gQXORKNWo/s320/4_IMG_0206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080408571354438402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screws and bolts in place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8kbFuWvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzzUsVr7Vd4/s1600-h/5_IMG_0310.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8kbFuWvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/OzzUsVr7Vd4/s320/5_IMG_0310.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080408451095354098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of today, here we are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8bbFuWuI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qzcN3KJwP-M/s1600-h/6_IMG_0351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE8bbFuWuI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qzcN3KJwP-M/s320/6_IMG_0351.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080408296476531426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-4963944366104786460?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/4963944366104786460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/4963944366104786460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/playset-progress.html' title='Playset Progress'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGpqBX0xm3M/RoE9i7FuWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/HGsBoY1BaXE/s72-c/1_IMG_0198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-5831391841598538705</id><published>2007-06-09T01:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T15:40:42.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Videos ...</title><content type='html'>I decided to post some magic videos from youtube here rather than search for them each time I want to see them ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked this one because I like the trick itself as well as the music.  OK, so the user pulled the video, but I still like the song.  It is called Until the End by Breaking  Benjamin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/grtJ-nXMwxo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/grtJ-nXMwxo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is called Jazz Aces and I really like the way the presentation works:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7JolD-mrdfg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7JolD-mrdfg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This -n- That:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tScm-eZInBE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tScm-eZInBE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't like the fingernails on this guy, but it's a great trick:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ZkEjdtm_z4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ZkEjdtm_z4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-5831391841598538705?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/5831391841598538705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/5831391841598538705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/magic-videos.html' title='Magic Videos ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-5967147339516900781</id><published>2007-06-03T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T10:48:03.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Sunburned ...</title><content type='html'>I spent the day working outside today. Mowing, weed-whacking, and raking up the mess. My son wanted to play in the pool when I was done, so I filled it up and we had a small water battle. After I got out of the shower, I realized that I must have been outside for quite a while, as my farmer’s tan was more red than brown. I reached the fridge and found the bottle of clear, green aloe inside. I opened the cap and was overwhelmed with the smell of the summers of my youth …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a time-share on a houseboat in Lake Powell, UT. Every summer, my family and two others would take two weeks and spend on the lake. One of the families had a ski boat, and we ended up combining our weeks together for convenience. The lake was huge with so many things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember stalking small lizards on the sandstone formations, grabbing them by their tails, and watching them scurry away with little stubs as I looked in awe at the tail I’d have wiggling in my clutches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember scouring the rock formations for small, round sandstone rocks we believed to be Indian marbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember my cousin and his friend deciding they wanted an “all-over” tan. They snuck off somewhere in the rocks and laid out nude, only to fall asleep in the sun and return with “all-over” sunburns. Their dads thought it would be a good idea for them to go water skiing to serve as further reminder to not lay out naked in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember fishing from the roof of the houseboat. One time, the Fish ‘n Game cops showed up and confiscated all of the fishing gear since not everyone had proper licensing. Another time, we had spent all day fishing without catching a single fish. We were just about ready to pack it in, when my oldest sister (the one just younger than me) started to reel in what was the biggest fish that I had ever seen. It turned out to be a Carp, but the largest fish ever anyhow, and her ticket to eternal bragging rights. Mostly, we would fish for Blue Gill. They were small, and really prickly, but they were good fighters and fun to catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember waking up to screaming in the middle of the night. My brother and I had slept out in bags on the deck of the houseboat at night and he had rolled off into the water. No drowning, no death, just a lot of woke up people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember playing Blitz with all my friends. It was a card game where you tried to get 31 points of the same suit (aces worth 11, face cards worth 10, and all others at face value, knocking, and three of a kind) to win a round. Each person had three “lives” and when someone else won, you’d loose one. You really had 4 lives, since after your third loss, you were holding onto the horse’s tail until next time. When we played with the older kids, I was credited with loosing three times and then hanging onto the tail forever. I haven’t played that game in a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly I remember the water. The water was the deepest blue-green I had ever seen. It was such a wonderful color. It was great for swimming, fishing, skiing, and playing. We dared each other to jump off rock formations into it. I learned to water ski on it. I got burned playing in it. I gained my independence in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back at the summers I spent in Lake Powell as the time when I was allowed to be on my own, learning to be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what I smell when I open a bottle of aloe to put on my sunburn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-5967147339516900781?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/5967147339516900781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/5967147339516900781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/getting-sunburned.html' title='Getting Sunburned ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-9025024384614478141</id><published>2007-02-02T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T15:34:54.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Auto Flush Toilets are a Bad Idea ...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I attended a seminar with around 200 people and my work group.  After the seminar, one of my coworkers approached me to relay the following story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you read this, I want you to pretend you are the star of the movie SPEED and instead of "this is what happened," think "this is the scenario ... what do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my buddy goes into the men's room to relieve himself.  This was a #2 job, and the bathrooms next to the conference area house 6-8 urinals and 4-6 toilets.  This rest room is adjacent to the cafeteria and one of the building lobbies.  Like I said, the seminar was attended by around 200 people and the cafeteria is a busy place, so as you might imagine, there was little room at the inn.  When one of the stalls opened up, he went in and sat down.  This is where you are supposed to start imagining and sweating with the decision that is upon you.  Both of the adjoining stalls are occupied and as he sits down, his toilet auto-flushes.  This is not an uncommon occurance, but when it happens, you normally just sit there and wait for the flush to finish and get on with your business.  He mentioned that he really needed to go, but he was going to hold off until the flush finised, but for some reason he felt his behind get a little wet.  This sometimes happens if the flush on that particular model of toilet is a little splashy.  Then he noticed that it felt less like a splash and more like an attempt to submerg his hind end.  When he looked down, he noticed that the toilet water was lipping.  This means that the toilet has backed up and the water is cresting the bowl ... any more water displacement, and it is on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now he is completely stuck.  If he stays on the seat, he can't actually relieve himself becasue it will overflow the bowl.  If he tries to leave, the auto flush will trigger and will overflow the bowl.  This is bad on a few counts.  He will not have time to get his already wet butt dried and back into his pants, so he will have to spend the rest of the day with wet underwear.  Because the bathroom is so crowded, there is no hope of  overflowing the bowl without getting noticed.  The guy waiting for the empty spot will notice as soon as he tries to make his claim.  Not to mention the two sorry fellows sitting on either side of you.  They are there minding their own business when all of a sudden they see water on the floor, slowly creeping towards their feet and clothing that may be hanging down enough and get wet ... or they might not notice until it is time to be done.  You might think that in such a large crowded bathroom, it would be easy to go unnoticed as you make the mad dash to the door, but since he had no chance to actually relieve himself, the whole "mad dash" business is a little awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick!  What do you do?  You have 10 seconds ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy is actually a good waiter, and that is what he did.  The water in the bowl slowly receeded and he stood up to dry off the bottom.  The auto flush did trigger, but the water level reached just below the crest.  No mad dashing to the door required here.  I probably would have sat out the remainder of the day shift and waited until night fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-9025024384614478141?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/9025024384614478141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/9025024384614478141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/auto-flush-toilets-are-bad-idea.html' title='Auto Flush Toilets are a Bad Idea ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-2420548079317802728</id><published>2006-11-23T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:31:17.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Redneck Turkey Day &amp; The Boy</title><content type='html'>I got an email from my brother-in-law the other day that listed items specific to Thanksgiving that would help you identify yourself as a Redneck. I'm sure none of this stuff ever happened in my family growing up, but I got a kick out of it so I'll post it here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You Might Be A Redneck If ...&lt;br /&gt;You've ever had Thanksgiving dinner on a Ping-Pong table.&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving dinner is squirrel and dumplings.&lt;br /&gt;You've ever re-used a paper plate.&lt;br /&gt;If you have a complete set of salad bowls and they all say Cool Whip on the side.&lt;br /&gt;If you've ever used your ironing board as a buffet table.&lt;br /&gt;On Thanksgiving Day you have to decide which pet to eat.&lt;br /&gt;Your turkey platter is an old hub cap.&lt;br /&gt;Your best glasses have Dixie printed on them.&lt;br /&gt;Your stuffing's secret ingredient comes from the bait shop.&lt;br /&gt;Your only condiment on the dining room table is ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;Side dishes include beef jerky and Moon Pies.&lt;br /&gt;You have to go outside to get something out of the 'fridge.&lt;br /&gt;The directions to your house include "turn off the paved road".&lt;br /&gt;You consider pork and beans to be a gourmet food.&lt;br /&gt;You have an Elvis Jell-O mold.&lt;br /&gt;Your secret family recipe is illegal.&lt;br /&gt;You serve Vienna Sausage as an appetizer.&lt;br /&gt;(I added this one, but I think it is appropriate)&lt;br /&gt;You think it is plum' crazy gettin' up at 5am to get the sales at the Wal-Mart, but gettin' up that early to kill some critter is LATE!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started our family with two girls, then we added a boy. In conversation between my wife and I, we started referring to the children as "The Girls" and "The Boy." "Are the girls upstairs?" "What about the boy?" "What is the boy doing." These became common things to say about the children. One day, while driving through the fast food lane at the local McCalorie, I asked my wife if we should get Sprite or Orange pop for the girls. My son, from the back seat of the van, very loudly exclaimed, "The Boy wants Orange!" We felt bad that he had identified himself with that name, but I am using it here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started working on a workbench for the garage and have modified this plan if anyone is interested:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hammerzone.com/archives/workshop/bench/below20.html"&gt;http://www.hammerzone.com/archives/workshop/bench/below20.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I had the frame done and I was inside of it wanting to see if I was placing the last 2X4 square to the one next to it. The boy was helping me and having a great time, especially since he got to use the power drill and it was WAY past his bedtime. I don't know if you are familiar with a "speed square," but it is a plastic device used to check for "squareness." Here is one:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/3727/3021/1600/468935/speed_square.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/3727/3021/400/686392/speed_square.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyhow, I needed it, and I asked my helper to hand me the square and I pointed to it lying on the floor. The boy is 4. He knows his shapes. He took one look at that little triangle lying on the floor, decided that his daddy must be an idiot, because anyone could tell that was not a square, and gave me the look to convey my stupidity. He didn't say anything. He just stood there looking at me like I had snakes coming out of my ears, and waited for me to fix what I had messed up. I quickly apologized and asked for the triangle. I started to explain why it was called a square, but he stopped me when he handed it off by saying (really quietly so no one could hear), "It's not a square dad."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyhow, happy turkey day! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-2420548079317802728?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/2420548079317802728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/2420548079317802728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/redneck-turkey-day-boy.html' title='Redneck Turkey Day &amp; The Boy'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-116242106045993845</id><published>2006-11-01T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:26:55.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Hunt</title><content type='html'>So, I went Elk hunting in Eastern Oregon for the first time, and by anyone's standards, I think I was successful ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/1_first_day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/1_first_day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words in the photo say it all. Daylight was at 7:21, and I took my shot at 7:34. From what I could hear, mine was the 5th shot of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a little while to find him, but it was worth it. Imagine my suprise to see this big guy laying out under these pines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/2_me_and_the_big_one.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/2_me_and_the_big_one.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The head alone gives you a better shot at all the points. We'd heard that if you are not planning on mounting the head, you can bring the cape to a taxidermist and get some $ for it. We ended up packing out the head/rack/cape, and taking it to someone local who gave us $125 for this cape. I guess people pack out the antlers and then want a complete shoulder mount, so the taxidermist needs material to work with that they don't mind purchasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/3_head.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/3_head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/3_head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/4_happy_hunters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/4_happy_hunters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the buddy I hunted with. He did all the up front research and ground work and I got the big rack. In the end, we both filled our tags and that equates to plenty of meat for the both of us, so I don't think he is sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our method of transporting the quarters and head may appear a little unorthodox, but it worked. We also had a dolly (behind me in yellow) that did most of the work. Another hunter who came to claim our spot upon our exit said he thought the dolly and bicycle seat were a nice "touch." I think that meant he was gonna get some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/5_how_we_move_the_elk.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/5_how_we_move_the_elk.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, those of you who are concerned about the healthiness of eating a wild animal like this ... The US government has put this little meat comparrison table together and I found it very interesting. Looks like we should all be hunting Bison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/6_health_info.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/6_health_info.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-116242106045993845?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/116242106045993845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/116242106045993845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/big-hunt.html' title='The Big Hunt'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-115111099460934120</id><published>2006-06-23T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:27:27.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letterboxing with the Laurels ...</title><content type='html'>We spent this morning with the Laurels from our Stake teaching them about letterboxing. One of the Stake YW leaders contacted us about the Laurel Legacy activity this week and asked us to give them some kind of introduction to letterboxing. We made two boxes to place at North Albany Park for the day and then gave them a "How To." They wanted us to keep the boxes centered on the Standards of Youth pamphlet and the theme this year for the Laurels is Friends and Temples. So we made a "Friends in Faith" box and a "Your bodies are the Temple of the Lord box." I'll post the clueset here rather than on the LBNA to the side:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/LBNA_Clues.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/400/LBNA_Clues.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the stamps myself, and with a lot of critiquing from the wife, I think we have what we wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/Laurel_Legacy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I think the Laurels had fun and I hope we get a few more letterboxers out there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-115111099460934120?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/115111099460934120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/115111099460934120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/letterboxing-with-laurels.html' title='Letterboxing with the Laurels ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-114610942428358777</id><published>2006-04-26T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:29:15.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Counting ...</title><content type='html'>It is especially funny to watch and listen to kids when they are learning how to count. My boy was just in the potty and (HOORAY!) was following it up with the handwashing! (He must have read my blog.) Mom told him he needed to count to thirty while washing, and he was right on track: " ..., eleven, twelve, thirteen, fortyteen, fiftyteen, sixteen, ..." I think they hear things and try their best to put them together. He had already told me today that the number that comes after twenty nine was twenty ten ... in fact, we had a rather long conversation about it where I was repeatedly told I was wrong, and I have since accepted that. So, I'm sitting at the dinner table enjoying listening to him count. I start to laugh to myself in anticipation of "twenty ten," when my wife wonders aloud what is wrong with me. I told her to just listen to the numbers as they flow forth. And here they come, "twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine" and then comes the best "twenty ten." I chuckled to myself because it just sounded so funny. There was emphasis in his voice, vigor, even a rather boisterous sense of accomplishment. Little did I know that he wasn't done yet. As my glee quickly subsided, he yells out "THIRTY!" I don't know if he remembered our conversation earlier in the day and had decided that when you count to thirty that you should actually get there, or if he had always known that the numbers go twenty nine, twenty ten, thirty. At any rate, I was pretty-much on the floor when he made it back to the dinner table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-114610942428358777?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114610942428358777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114610942428358777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/counting.html' title='Counting ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-114411098879731392</id><published>2006-04-03T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:29:53.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you wash your hands?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;"But Dad! I washed my hands yesterday!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the response I get from my 4-year-old son after he runs out of the bathroom, leaving the door wide open, unflushed toilet lid up, and light on. I guess he just doesn't yet see the point in washing. How does the joke go?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A little boy is just finishing up at the urinal when another little boy enters the bathroom. The first boy goes to the sink and starts to wash his hands. (This is obviously a joke, because little boys don’t wash their hands.) The second boy finishes and turns to leave the bathroom. The first boy yells, “Hey! Didn’t your momma teach you to wash your hands after you go to the bathroom?!?” The second boy responds, “My momma taught me not to pee on my hands!”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so it goes with teaching the children the ropes of the potty. We get after him, and remind him, it seems to no avail.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then the miracle happens ...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I come in from mowing the lawn and see the 1-year-old standing in front of the bathroom door. The light is on and behind her, I see what appears to be a water trail into the bathroom. Then I notice the wet clumps of toilet paper in her hair and on her shirt. I call to my wife to get the baby as I hurridly make my approach to the bathroom. As I round the corner of the entry way, I see the toilet lid is in the fully locked and upright position and the water is definitely yellow. Great! I yell upstairs to the boy, "Kylicko!" To which he promptly responds, "But Dad! I washed my hands!" Wonderful! I guess it could have been worse. The baby could have been fishing for "brown trout."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is it with washing hands in the bathroom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women seem obsessed with it and men think the bathroom sinks are to use when all the urinals are taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work at a computer company and my cubicle is right next to the men’s room. That is prime real estate if you are a coffee drinker on the order of 8 cups a day, but for me I mainly observe who goes in, how long they are in there for, and how often they come back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A few weeks ago, a member of the female persuasion came by my desk to share some information. She had just used the facilities and discovered the soap dispensers were empty. She retreated to her desk and made the appropriate phone call to inform the janitorial staff that the soap needed to be restocked. She relayed to me that the guy on the receiving end of the phone call let out a bewildered sigh and said the following, “What is it with you guys?” (Clearly meaning you girls.) “We refill the soap in your bathrooms at least twice a week!” She asked if that was out of the ordinary and was told that the soap in the men’s room is restocked once a month whether it needs it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you might expect, the ratio of women to men in this geek facility (at least on my floor) is slightly lopsided. It is actually a little higher than I expected at 1 to 5, but the point remains that I don’t shake hands with my co-workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wash my hands … with soap … every time. So, I know it’s not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have observed that the definition of what constitutes hand washing varies:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 - Just turning on the faucet counts (ie – no actual contact with the water)&lt;br /&gt;2 - Hurriedly splashing water on the area of the hand that urine contacted counts&lt;br /&gt;3 - Rinsing both hands under the water counts&lt;br /&gt;4 - The water does not need to be hot&lt;br /&gt;5 - Squirting the soap into your hands and then rinsing it down the drain without lathering counts&lt;br /&gt;6 - Taking one step towards the sink and then grabbing a paper towel counts (I guess you are faking out your fellow users here)&lt;br /&gt;7 - Just drying your hands under the dryer counts (I guess dry urine is OK)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me they were accused of being obsessive with their hand washing. (Would you believe it was a female?) I asked her to talk me through her routine, so I could tell her what I thought. Now there were obviously some inherent differences here because she actually knows there's a sink in the bathroom, but I gave it my best effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 1 – Lay some paper towels next to the sink by the faucet. (I still don’t fully understand this step. Don’t you have to get your hands wet before you get the towel?)&lt;br /&gt;Step 2 – Turn on the hot water. (This doesn’t actually sound too complicated, but I know a ton of guys who just said, “The bathrooms have HOT water!?!”)&lt;br /&gt;Step 3 – Get the hand furthest away from the soap dispenser wet. (I’m expecting the “one-hand” wash mentioned above.)&lt;br /&gt;Step 4 – Place the wet hand under the soap dispenser and with the dry hand dispense the soap. (This actually makes sense because you aren’t driping water all over the counter and dispenser.)&lt;br /&gt;Step 5 – Lather hands and sing “Happy Birthday" to yourself twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I stopped her. Who in their right mind actually sings "Happy Birthday" in the bathroom?!? I can just see myself peeing in peace when the guy that got done before me starts to sing.&lt;br /&gt;“Happy Birthday to you.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to you.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Dear … Hey Buddy! What’s your name?!?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would definitely be an appropriate time to leave the bathroom without washing. In fact, I might not even finish peeing before leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She assured me that she sings the song in her head, but she has been known to speak their thoughts aloud without realizing it. “Did I say that out loud?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said you were supposed to lather your hands for two minutes, and that singing "Happy Birthday" took one. “You know, like when you brush your teeth,” she says. “Oh yeah … Brush teeth.” Maybe that’s what the sinks are for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 6 – Pick up the paper towels beside the sink and wipe down the faucet. (I didn’t know my job responsibilities included janitorial work.)&lt;br /&gt;Step 7 – Get fresh paper towels from the dispenser, dry your hands, but do not throw the towels away. (Maybe we’re saving them for the scrapbook page.)&lt;br /&gt;Step 8 – Open the bathroom door with the paper towels you saved, being careful not to touch the handle, and toss them in the garbage on your way out or back at your desk. (This makes some sense. I mean who wouldn’t want to open the bathroom door after you've successfully spread your “washed-my-hands” germs on them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t pinpoint THE ONE thing that maybe our colleague thought was obsessive, but I did comment that two minutes sounded like an awfully long time to lather. After our conversation, she forwarded me this .pdf file she Googled:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/hand_wash.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apparently this hand washing issue is bigger than you and me. They have whole sections of government that spend our tax dollars on hand washing. Hope it's not all going down the drain. (HA!) Sorry, I couldn't pass that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I decided to try this procedure out to see how I would be perceived in the men’s room. And dispite the fact that the sheet says 20 seconds, I sang "Happy Birthday" anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just started washing my hands to "Happy Birthday" …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is taking forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm halfway through when someone walks in. I'm distracted so I have to start over. The water is kind of HOT … like turn my hands red HOT. Now I'm starting the song for the second time and the guy finishing makes a joke about my preparation for surgery on his way out ... you guessed it, without washing. I try to ignore him and continue, but I am honestly rattled and forget where I am, so I start over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is seriously taking FOREVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just about done, and I'm starting to wonder about the faucet. I touched the faucet with my dirty hands in order to turn it on, so it must be contaminated. Touching the contaminated faucet with my clean hands would render them dirty again right? (Maybe that’s what the paper towels were for!) The other guy in here thought I was crazy when I asked if he would clean the faucet for me. So, I get some more soap and start to lather up the faucet and clean it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday twice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that the faucet is clean, I should probably wash my hands again to make sure they are clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interruption with lots of laughter. Apparently I was singing out loud. (How long do you wash to get embarrassment off your face?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK … singing Happy Birthday … singing again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dry off hands with towel … I wonder where the towels have been? They don't have any plastic wrap on them, and I bet the janitors don’t wash their hands before loading up the paper towel dispensers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm washing all the paper towels in the sink and hanging them all over the bathroom to dry. The paper tears easily when it's wet, so I can’t scrub too hard. Happy Birthday twice anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS REALLY IS TAKING FOREVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realize that the bathroom has been used already today and was probably unsanitary for my use in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm cleaning the bathroom … wiping down the walls, mirrors, urinals, toilets, sinks and counters … and re-washing the paper towels because I hung them on dirty surfaces to dry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm wondering just how long they will take to dry and praying that no one will come in the bathroom now because I've made a huge mess. BUT, everything is going to be clean now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize I have to pee again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-114411098879731392?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114411098879731392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114411098879731392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/did-you-wash-your-hands.html' title='Did you wash your hands?'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-114368732511092312</id><published>2006-03-29T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:30:18.951-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Fun ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20%284%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We took the day off work to play in the snow during Spring Break. All in all, I think the kids had a real good time, and we didn't get too cold. The baby liked the snow a lot too. She kept on saying "Snow!" and touching her nose. Check out those glasses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20(29).0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20%2829%29.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20(29).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20(29).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just don't eat the yellow stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She really liked holding a snowball, sitting in the snow, and even doing faceplants. She did not however, like tubing. We'd sneak her over to the tube and as soon as she saw it she'd yell "NO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/1600/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20(8).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6578/2572/320/Hoo%20Doo%20Snow%20%288%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shades are sweet. Kylicko had a good time hitting daddy with snowballs. He also liked waiting for his sisters to get on the tube and then shoving them down the hill. It was usually followed with a slide down on his belly. He was also awarding points after every run. He gave daddy only 3 points, which disappointed me greatly until he told me that 4 was the most you could get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-114368732511092312?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114368732511092312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114368732511092312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/snow-fun.html' title='Snow Fun ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24751759.post-114342934039097359</id><published>2006-03-26T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T21:30:38.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Male Kylicko ...</title><content type='html'>My boy cracks me up ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His big sister has been a little under the weather today and he's noticed that she's been getting treated pretty well. Lying on the couch, remote in hand, and bossing all within earshot sounds like a good way to spend Sunday right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, he has his favorite blanket with him and he's laying on the floor with his pillow. He looks up at me and goes, "Dad. Do I feel better?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like it's up to me ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24751759-114342934039097359?l=zbynekblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114342934039097359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24751759/posts/default/114342934039097359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zbynekblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/male-kylicko.html' title='Male Kylicko ...'/><author><name>-zbyn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04067699549263853412</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
