<?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-7060445540915156318</id><updated>2012-01-05T16:36:06.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer's In The Question</title><subtitle type='html'>A little bit about everything...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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>97</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1534200246399364775</id><published>2012-01-05T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T16:36:06.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A good song</title><content type='html'>...It was burgers and fries and cherry pies in a world we use to know...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1534200246399364775?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1534200246399364775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1534200246399364775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1534200246399364775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1534200246399364775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2012/01/good-song.html' title='A good song'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2369786125911150348</id><published>2011-11-19T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T12:48:05.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>super committee</title><content type='html'>The super committee is now squabbling over the meaning of defense.  We need to fire everyone in DC&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2369786125911150348?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2369786125911150348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2369786125911150348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2369786125911150348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2369786125911150348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/11/super-committee.html' title='super committee'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3718265840661048621</id><published>2011-11-14T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T16:00:40.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The princess</title><content type='html'>Nancy Pelosi says she is not corrupt.   Oh, I needed a good laugh today&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3718265840661048621?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3718265840661048621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3718265840661048621&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3718265840661048621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3718265840661048621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/11/princess.html' title='The princess'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-547025877245761710</id><published>2011-11-11T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T20:35:12.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Veterans Day 2011</title><content type='html'>Thank you to all Veterans&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-547025877245761710?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/547025877245761710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=547025877245761710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/547025877245761710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/547025877245761710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/11/veterans-day-2011.html' title='Veterans Day 2011'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3336569080540618954</id><published>2011-10-30T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T19:25:48.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Sign</title><content type='html'>I love my new sign out front.    Fire Obama 2012&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3336569080540618954?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3336569080540618954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3336569080540618954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3336569080540618954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3336569080540618954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/10/new-sign.html' title='New Sign'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7273753954548856819</id><published>2011-10-18T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T13:08:04.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Occupy.....</title><content type='html'>useful idiots&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7273753954548856819?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7273753954548856819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7273753954548856819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7273753954548856819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7273753954548856819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/10/occupy.html' title='Occupy.....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2378758536027533554</id><published>2011-09-30T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T16:22:08.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Election 2012</title><content type='html'>Anyone else in 2012!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2378758536027533554?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2378758536027533554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2378758536027533554&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2378758536027533554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2378758536027533554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/09/election-2012.html' title='Election 2012'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8870512396849180209</id><published>2011-09-22T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T20:50:24.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Debate</title><content type='html'>Fire obama 2012!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8870512396849180209?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8870512396849180209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8870512396849180209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8870512396849180209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8870512396849180209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/09/debate.html' title='The Debate'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1579470403149096467</id><published>2011-09-11T16:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T16:13:17.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>911</title><content type='html'>We will NEVER forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1579470403149096467?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1579470403149096467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1579470403149096467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1579470403149096467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1579470403149096467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/09/911.html' title='911'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2986023793124333005</id><published>2011-09-09T13:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T13:09:03.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2012</title><content type='html'>Fire obama in 2012&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2986023793124333005?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2986023793124333005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2986023793124333005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2986023793124333005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2986023793124333005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/09/2012.html' title='2012'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-385813866309197310</id><published>2011-08-28T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T09:55:04.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>For days of August left....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-385813866309197310?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/385813866309197310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=385813866309197310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/385813866309197310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/385813866309197310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7648517870257109236</id><published>2011-08-22T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T13:57:17.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fire obama</title><content type='html'>FIRE OBAMA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7648517870257109236?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7648517870257109236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7648517870257109236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7648517870257109236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7648517870257109236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/fire-obama.html' title='fire obama'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7086846138519080898</id><published>2011-08-11T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T19:04:17.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Debate</title><content type='html'>I wanted to watch the debate tonight.  Everyone is bashing obumer which I love to see but when they start on each other, I have to change the channel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7086846138519080898?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7086846138519080898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7086846138519080898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7086846138519080898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7086846138519080898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/debate.html' title='The Debate'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-150642591909763090</id><published>2011-08-09T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T20:13:31.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nancy</title><content type='html'>Palosi needs to be voted out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-150642591909763090?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/150642591909763090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=150642591909763090&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/150642591909763090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/150642591909763090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/nancy.html' title='Nancy'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6045459891693024933</id><published>2011-08-05T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T12:10:03.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>John</title><content type='html'>Kerry needs to be fired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6045459891693024933?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6045459891693024933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6045459891693024933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6045459891693024933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6045459891693024933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/john.html' title='John'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4868555067854242016</id><published>2011-08-04T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T14:19:50.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you doing?</title><content type='html'>The world financial markets are in a meltdown and obumer is out campaigning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4868555067854242016?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4868555067854242016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4868555067854242016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4868555067854242016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4868555067854242016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-are-you-doing.html' title='What are you doing?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3121862888886312681</id><published>2011-08-02T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T14:48:14.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sick of DC politics</title><content type='html'>Boehner and most of the repubs need to go...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3121862888886312681?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3121862888886312681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3121862888886312681&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3121862888886312681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3121862888886312681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/im-sick-of-dc-politics.html' title='I&apos;m sick of DC politics'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7150856730143250273</id><published>2011-07-31T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T09:55:48.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Anniversary</title><content type='html'>....I had the time of my life and I owe it all to you....  45 years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7150856730143250273?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7150856730143250273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7150856730143250273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7150856730143250273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7150856730143250273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/07/wedding-anniversary.html' title='Wedding Anniversary'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1025223853812513392</id><published>2011-07-28T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T20:08:57.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>Thank you to my Daughter-in-law for getting me back into my blog.  Apparently, the blog didnt like the fact I had been gone for almost a year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1025223853812513392?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1025223853812513392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1025223853812513392&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1025223853812513392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1025223853812513392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/07/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-545808407509992781</id><published>2010-08-06T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T22:01:21.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why are they called practical jokes??</title><content type='html'>Sometime in the last few months Violet and I started playing jokes on each other. She vasolined the tolet seat and I short-sheeted her bed.  She stirred horseradish into my cole slaw so I TPed her room. She added more stuff to my supper and I put candy in her shoes.  I just went into my bedroom and she has struck again; I will be picking up TP for awhile.  So, tomorrow while she is gone I'm going to stretch cellophane across the opening of her bedroom door.  We have fun and laugh alot but I am running out of ideas.  Anyone know some practical jokes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-545808407509992781?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/545808407509992781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=545808407509992781&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/545808407509992781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/545808407509992781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-are-they-called-practical-jokes.html' title='Why are they called practical jokes??'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6092351284548421004</id><published>2010-07-31T09:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T09:31:42.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>44 years today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6092351284548421004?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6092351284548421004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6092351284548421004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6092351284548421004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6092351284548421004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2010/07/44-years-today.html' title='44 years today'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3124289617680616976</id><published>2010-04-15T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:07:20.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The old Willow Tree</title><content type='html'>I went by the little house on the corner where my sweetie and I lived so long ago.  The big willow tree that we used for our sack swings has blown over.  I feel like I lost an old friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3124289617680616976?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3124289617680616976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3124289617680616976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3124289617680616976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3124289617680616976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2010/04/old-willow-tree.html' title='The old Willow Tree'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7332464365462629132</id><published>2010-02-20T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T22:14:14.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good By Mom</title><content type='html'>I miss you already; say hi to Larry and Dad for me!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7332464365462629132?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7332464365462629132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7332464365462629132&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7332464365462629132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7332464365462629132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-by-mom.html' title='Good By Mom'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8413896864577938655</id><published>2009-12-05T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T17:26:59.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P.</title><content type='html'>In memory of the Studs.  I think God needed them for his team.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8413896864577938655?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8413896864577938655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8413896864577938655&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8413896864577938655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8413896864577938655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/12/rip.html' title='R.I.P.'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6401859398078268310</id><published>2009-10-21T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T19:45:12.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's your name?</title><content type='html'>I was talking to my sister-in-law today and told her I had gotten the oil changed in Big Red (my full size bright red Silverado). She said she and my brother had taken Miss Ellie in for the same thing. Took me a minute to remember that she calls their car Miss Ellie. My sister drives a new car that her family says looks like a microwave. So whenever she starts the car, the radio flashes and says welcome to Jill's microwave. When The Pilot was in high school, he had a foreign sports car called a TR GT6. It was broke down and had to be towed so many times, we just referred to it as Toad. When my Sweetie was driving truck, we had the orange truck, Big Red, Whitey and several just named The Truck. My brother-in-law calls his car Roy. When Violet was little, she thought the song Mustang Sally was Mustang Salad, so of course the Mustang got named Salad. This summer I let The Pilot take Salad to his house. He can keep her locked in the garage when he isn't driving it to Portland and I love how he keeps it so washed and waxed. Violet and I remind him that she is Violet's car. He says he just might have a hard time handing Salad over to Violet. He has been enjoying driving the Mustang but he has a few years yet before he has to give it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6401859398078268310?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6401859398078268310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6401859398078268310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6401859398078268310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6401859398078268310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/10/whats-your-name.html' title='What&apos;s your name?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-905913853862876894</id><published>2009-10-09T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T16:51:14.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?????</title><content type='html'>What do al gore and obama have in common?  They accepted Nobel Peace Awards that should have been given to people that actually deserved them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-905913853862876894?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/905913853862876894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=905913853862876894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/905913853862876894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/905913853862876894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/10/seriously.html' title='Seriously?????'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-950860315085620812</id><published>2009-07-31T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T19:18:21.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 31, 1966 - July 31, 2009</title><content type='html'>I loved you yesterday, I love you still, I always have and always will.  43 years today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-950860315085620812?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/950860315085620812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=950860315085620812&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/950860315085620812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/950860315085620812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/07/july-31-1966.html' title='July 31, 1966 - July 31, 2009'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8014070287470532752</id><published>2009-06-07T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T09:32:55.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 7, 1945</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8014070287470532752?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8014070287470532752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8014070287470532752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8014070287470532752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8014070287470532752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-7-1945.html' title='June 7, 1945'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7102217449515385747</id><published>2009-05-08T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T20:57:22.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same song but I lost track of the verse....</title><content type='html'>I went for a long drive today. Somewhere out in the middle of no where around Warm Springs a State Policeman pulled me over for speeding. Yup, 67 in a 45. I was ready with my story of why I don't carry the registration and insurance information, but he didn't even ask for it. He just wanted my license. He went back to his car for a few minutes. When he came back, he handed me my license and said again he had clocked me doing 67. He said this is 45 through here so slow down and have a nice day. So, it appears that Big Red (my big red Silverado) might be as lucky as the Mustang.  That would have been a big ticket!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7102217449515385747?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7102217449515385747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7102217449515385747&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7102217449515385747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7102217449515385747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/05/same-song-but-i-lost-track-of-verse.html' title='Same song but I lost track of the verse....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6066982551588921597</id><published>2009-04-17T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T20:52:22.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's still got it</title><content type='html'>The Mustang, West hill, what fun!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6066982551588921597?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6066982551588921597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6066982551588921597&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6066982551588921597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6066982551588921597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/04/shes-still-got-it.html' title='She&apos;s still got it'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2067500620690482208</id><published>2009-04-16T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:53:58.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They Keep Me Laughing</title><content type='html'>I was playing hide-and-seek with Herbie and Big Weld the other night. I found a really good place to hide. They looked everywhere. I heard them talking among themselves and then they hollered "Gramma if you don't come out in 2 minutes, we are not going to play with you anymore." I started laughing and they found me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2067500620690482208?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2067500620690482208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2067500620690482208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2067500620690482208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2067500620690482208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/04/they-keep-me-laughing.html' title='They Keep Me Laughing'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7469437862587720816</id><published>2009-03-17T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T17:55:43.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It does't seem like it.....</title><content type='html'>Two years ago today&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7469437862587720816?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7469437862587720816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7469437862587720816&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7469437862587720816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7469437862587720816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/03/it-doest-seem-like-it.html' title='It does&apos;t seem like it.....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6067825934564805007</id><published>2009-03-09T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T20:43:02.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always makes me smile</title><content type='html'>I went by that school again today.  I'm always in a funk, but the memories of the Studs and the Duds always make me smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6067825934564805007?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6067825934564805007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6067825934564805007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6067825934564805007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6067825934564805007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/03/always-makes-me-smile.html' title='Always makes me smile'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1288355538396746811</id><published>2009-02-26T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T21:52:42.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't get it</title><content type='html'>Why does my house seem so quiet when I know Violet, Herbie and Big Weld are out of town.  Hurry home!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1288355538396746811?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1288355538396746811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1288355538396746811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1288355538396746811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1288355538396746811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-get-it.html' title='I don&apos;t get it'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3727491766978462943</id><published>2008-10-27T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T16:44:38.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Sweetie!!!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I was at Swimminginlaundry's house. I was watching BigWeld look for something in a drawer. He found a piece of gum still in a wrapper. He brought it to me and asked me to take it home so he could have it the next time he came to my house. He came back a few minutes later and wanted it. I handed it to him and he carefully tore it in half and gave it back saying "that piece is for Herbie". It was just too cute!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3727491766978462943?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3727491766978462943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3727491766978462943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3727491766978462943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3727491766978462943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-sweetie.html' title='What a Sweetie!!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4821812854499749077</id><published>2008-09-06T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T14:57:49.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too familiar? I think so...</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think I must have a note on my forehead that says talk to me. I have had some weird conversations with complete strangers. Someone at Starbucks told me he now had heart problems and had to have soy in his drink instead of whole milk. I was in the hardware store one day when a man told me he was rerouting all the water/sewer pipes under his house. At the grocery store when I reached for my favorite brand of chocolate chips, a woman told me not to get those they were more expensive than the house brand and she also asked me if I had a good cookie recipe. I've heard about bypass surgery; not liking the daughter's boyfriend - People have talked to me about anything and everything. The weirdest conversation was yesterday at the grocery store. I was driving the Mustang. I drove past the outdoor cafe where several police officers were sitting taking a break. I parked and walked past the police on my way into the store. Just as I was passing one of the officers said "Hey, red Mustang, I havent see you around town much this summer". I was so surprised I don't even remember what I said but I thought that just may be too familiar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4821812854499749077?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4821812854499749077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4821812854499749077&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4821812854499749077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4821812854499749077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/09/too-familiar-i-think-so.html' title='Too familiar? I think so...'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3851038875809910607</id><published>2008-09-01T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T13:05:41.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I' m so extra</title><content type='html'>lonesome today.  Herbie and Big Weld are out of town visiting their other Grandma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3851038875809910607?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3851038875809910607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3851038875809910607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3851038875809910607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3851038875809910607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-m-so-extra.html' title='I&apos; m so extra'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-5098785475333181241</id><published>2008-07-31T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T08:59:55.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You</title><content type='html'>42 years today!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-5098785475333181241?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/5098785475333181241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=5098785475333181241&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5098785475333181241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5098785475333181241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-miss-you.html' title='I Miss You'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2700761712244750209</id><published>2008-04-21T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T23:22:20.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Disgusting World.....</title><content type='html'>Violet and Mayberry experienced their first real "lockdown" today.  Luckily, the teachers just let the kids think it was an extended drill. Sad Sad Sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2700761712244750209?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2700761712244750209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2700761712244750209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2700761712244750209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2700761712244750209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-disgusting-world.html' title='What a Disgusting World.....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6973858226128894688</id><published>2008-04-12T12:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T09:08:12.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sooooo Cute!!!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I saw two of the cutest things. I watched Violet at her first "track meet". It really was a jog-a-thon to raise money for a new sign at her school. I can tell she is going to be a track star when she is older. I walked Herbie and Big Weld to the ice cream store. It didn't take them long to decide what flavor they wanted. They were so cute walking on the sidewalk looking like two peas in a pod, walking side-by-side talking and eating their bubblegum ice cream cones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6973858226128894688?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6973858226128894688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6973858226128894688&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6973858226128894688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6973858226128894688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/04/sooooo-cute.html' title='Sooooo Cute!!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1002735014033556669</id><published>2008-04-01T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:56:20.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The poor milk cow</title><content type='html'>I was talking to The Pilot and Swimming in Laundry. They were talking about setting up college funds for their 3 kids. Their discussion made me think about how I got through business school. I started business school right after HS graduation so I didn't have a chance to work the summer first. That year Dad and Mom were counting on a new field of strawberries and the caneberries to help with my tuition and buy books. The strawberries didn't do well that year; the farmers couldn't get pickers so Dad disked his up before getting across the field the first picking. The caneberries didn't do much better. Dad had been driving school bus for a lot of years and he got $100.00 a month. When I signed up for business school, they signed up to pay $25.oo a month. They also sponsored a missionary in the Philippines for $25.00 a month. Every 3 months, they had to come up with money for books. So, Dad and Mom did whatever they had to do to get the money. It meant Dad had to go to a loan office and use the milk cow for collateral. I walked the payment in to the loan office every month. The loan wasn't quite paid off when we had to borrow some more but my parents just figured it had to be done. The milk cow was mortgaged the whole year I was in school. The real estate taxes didn't get paid that year but they made sure I graduated from business school with my diploma as a legal secretary. Training or college after HS was very important to my parents. Dad quit school during 6th grade when he was riding his horse to school and a rancher asked him to work for him. Mom got half way through her sophomore year of HS. Dad was sick for 2 years when us 5 kids were little. Mom had no training to get a job to help out. She always said her girls were going to get an education so we could take care of ourselves. Mom and Dad put 5 kids through technical schools, business school, nursing school and college with a small berry farm, a school bus driving job, a lot of hard work and determination. They got married in 1938 and they were finally able to buy their very first brand new vehicle in 1972. A little yellow Chevy Luv pick up that The Pilot eventually inherited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1002735014033556669?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1002735014033556669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1002735014033556669&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1002735014033556669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1002735014033556669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/04/poor-milk-cow.html' title='The poor milk cow'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-838478583339570183</id><published>2008-03-17T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T08:00:37.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Today</title><content type='html'>I miss ya partner!!!   I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-838478583339570183?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/838478583339570183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=838478583339570183&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/838478583339570183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/838478583339570183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/03/one-year-today.html' title='One Year Today'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3040068479153661716</id><published>2008-03-09T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:50:25.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An hour of fun....</title><content type='html'>Tonight I went to Swimminginlaundry's for supper. After supper, everyone wanted to go to Super Gramma's house. Well, except for Swimminginlaundry. She wanted the house to herself for a couple of minutes of quite time. We ended up at RF school in Mayberry. The school has a nice playground and lots of things to entertain Violet, Herbie and Big Weld. I tried to help Violet learn to stand on her hands. Herbie and Big Weld wanted to walk on the balance beam. At the back of the school ground there is a big area that is overgrown with trees and shrubs that were planted in the late 70's. There are trails through it and we explored all over. Then we went back up by the school. We layed on the ground and did the bicycle exercise and laughed so hard. Then we layed on the ground and looked for stars and talked about the different shapes of clouds.  A big flock of noisy geese went over and Herbie said the birds were having a party. I said the moon looked like it was smiling but Big Weld said it looked like a toe nail. We laughed alot and had a lot of fun. On the way back to the car we found a spot where you could make all kinds of sounds and there was an echo. Finally, after so much laughing and being so loud we got into the car. I was afraid someone would report us to the police for being so noisy. I was pretty tired after that but I don't think the kids even slowed down. It was late by then but we were headed to the DQ for ice cream.  Swimminginlaundry found us before we got there. The kids weren't ready to go home but we all agreed we had a great time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3040068479153661716?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3040068479153661716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3040068479153661716&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3040068479153661716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3040068479153661716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/03/hour-of-fun.html' title='An hour of fun....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7626787467517071568</id><published>2008-03-03T17:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T17:44:53.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to self</title><content type='html'>If you hide a key outside so you wont get locked out of the house put it back after you use it. It doesn't do you any good if it is locked in the house with your other set of keys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7626787467517071568?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7626787467517071568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7626787467517071568&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7626787467517071568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7626787467517071568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/03/note-to-self.html' title='Note to self'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1656046011463275703</id><published>2008-03-02T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:14:55.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A strange day!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning while Swimminginlaundry was taking a shower, I decided I would dress Herbie and Bigweld. Their Mom had already put out their clothes except for the socks. I got Bigweld dressed but he was very specific about the socks. He wanted the green and blue striped ones with his tie shoes. I found those and finally got them on his feet. Then I got Herbie dressed. Then I looked in the sock drawer for matching socks. I couldn't find any that matched. I found one sock with dinosaurs and one with red and blue stripes. I said hey Herbie are these OK? He said sure so it wasn't long before I had him in his socks. I could only find one of his tie shoes so I found a pair he could slip on. When I held them up and said Herbie are these OK? He said sure. I guess it was kind of a shock to Mom when she saw what he was wearing but it didn't matter to him that his socks didn't match. It still makes me smile. I like to be spontaneous. (I can get depressed if I have to plan 30 minutes ahead). She says how can you be spontaneous with 3 kids. I had finally talked Swimminginlaundry into going to the coast. She had to go sometime. It was hard for her. It's hard for me. We got rained on, the wind blew and the sun came out. Sometimes all at the same time. We sat on a wet log and had lunch. Bigweld fell in the water and got soaked. Herbie got pooped on by the sea gulls we were feeding and Violet just wanted to go to the car because she was missing Grandpa and was cold. Everyone got their own bag of salt water taffy. It wasn't a normal trip to the coast but I think we did alright considering the year we had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1656046011463275703?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1656046011463275703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1656046011463275703&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1656046011463275703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1656046011463275703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/03/oh-whatever.html' title='A strange day!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-5965284996456276989</id><published>2008-02-23T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T16:00:02.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a mess....</title><content type='html'>The floor in the wash room has been wet for several weeks. I did the best I could to ignore it by flying to North Carolina for a few days and then to Las Vegas for a week end and generally just not being home. But, the floor just got wetter. I thought the drain for the washer was plugged up so I got the drain snake from the Pilot. (He said he would come over but I said no I have to learn to deal with this stuff). I took it home and stuffed it into the pipe; the snake came off the handle and I almost lost it down the drain but I managed to catch it. One pipe I couldn't get it into so after alhoooot of ##$%$# not nice words, I called the Pilot back crying into the phone to please come over and fix the @#$# pipes. He came right over. After using the snake and making a call to a cousin who is a retired plumber he found out that the house is old with too small pipes and the pipes cant handle all the water from the new washers. So, the Pilot figured out what to do and we went to the hardware store to get the parts. By then it was late so he said he would be back in the morning. Turns out there were two reasons the floor was wet. The hot water tank apparently had been on its last legs for several weeks and finally rusted through and leaked all over the floor. So, before the pilot could start on the washer problem, he had to install a new water heater. This was the first time he had to do this kind of stuff without his Dad but he made it look easy. I'm glad he took after his Dad and can do this stuff because I have a feeling this wont be the only time I have to call him. He took it all in stride while I had to have a Starbucks Vinti caramel moccha with whip AND a maple bar. Thanks Pilot and thanks Swimminginlaundry; I know you have projects of your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-5965284996456276989?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/5965284996456276989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=5965284996456276989&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5965284996456276989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5965284996456276989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-mess.html' title='What a mess....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2762468257314022042</id><published>2008-02-18T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T17:19:47.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got the Mustang</title><content type='html'>on the road today.  I washed it a few days ago and it is bright and shiny.  I was headed to town to get coffee.  It was a nice day so I had the windows down and the music up.  I parked beside a newer Mustang in the lot and I watched as a kid came toward me all smiles.  When I got out, he said I love your Mustang.  I said "Thanks, I like yours".  As he drove away, I thought "18 years old, 285,000 miles but baby, you've still got it" and went in and got my coffee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2762468257314022042?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2762468257314022042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2762468257314022042&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2762468257314022042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2762468257314022042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/02/got-mustang.html' title='Got the Mustang'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1842220577429328023</id><published>2008-02-14T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T13:46:47.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 14, 1966 - Did You Know</title><content type='html'>Sherrie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that the birds in the trees sing especially sweet melodies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did you know that the flowers in the meadow lightly glow as the breeze gently blows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that the brook seems to play as it sweeps beneath the sun of any beautiful day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did you know that I saw none of these things - no not one - until I met a certain someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did you know that you are that certain very special one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1842220577429328023?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1842220577429328023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1842220577429328023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1842220577429328023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1842220577429328023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/02/february-14-1966-did-you-know.html' title='February 14, 1966 - Did You Know'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3317599010902616433</id><published>2008-01-24T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T16:49:09.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>45 years!!!</title><content type='html'>I met my Sweetie 45 years ago this month. He sat behind me in senior English class. We had just returned from Christmas break. He said hello; I said hello. We kept that up for a while. Then one day he asked me to stay and watch practice and he would drive me home. I said OK!!! After that we spent all our time together at school. We had matching shirts and always wore them on Friday. Sometimes I would walk home with him for lunch. He was my date for the senior prom. At the May day program, the senior girls had to wind the may pole. He was my partner. After we graduated, we separated for a while. I went to business school and he took a job at a local furniture store. We went out on and off for the next couple of years. He had become really good friends with my brother so my Sweetie was at the house a lot. I mostly thought of him as a brother. One day my brother came home and said "Larry is leaving for boot camp". At that moment, I knew I loved him but by then he was going with someone. I wrote to him; he wrote back. We continued writing. One day I wrote in shorthand "I like you". He could read that from our high school days and in his next letter he wrote it in shorthand too. By the time he came home from boot camp we were back together. He gave me my engagement ring the first Sunday in June of 1966 and we were married July 31, 1966. After 40 years of marriage we couldn't stand beside each other without holding hands. Beside missing him very much and among so many things I miss, I miss holding his hand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3317599010902616433?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3317599010902616433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3317599010902616433&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3317599010902616433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3317599010902616433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/01/45-years.html' title='45 years!!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1067820122288753485</id><published>2008-01-19T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T13:41:58.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much information....</title><content type='html'>Friday night has become a girls night only for Violet and me. Last night when she was here  we got into our pj's and talked about her friends and a boy but not a boyfriend that she enjoyed talking to. They talk about trading cards. She said she hadn't told him yet that she owns a Mustang. I was sworn to secrecy about the little boy. We talked and played our usual games and she decided we should play school. She was the teacher's assistant. She went around to the different rooms and showed the kids how to do the fire drill, earthquake drill and the lock down drill. When I heard lock down I said do you really practice that? She said yes and very calmly explained that if you are the closet to the door you are supposed to lock the door and get under a table or desk. If the teacher is closest to the door, she has to lock it and then get under her desk. It made me think of a lot of questions but I didn't know how much she knew and didn't want to scare her. I was kinda depressed the rest of the evening thinking that was too much information for a little 6 year old to have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1067820122288753485?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1067820122288753485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1067820122288753485&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1067820122288753485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1067820122288753485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2008/01/too-much-information.html' title='Too much information....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6995208394280862725</id><published>2007-12-21T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T20:28:18.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our son</title><content type='html'>Our son was here visiting with his two sons today. When they were ready to leave he said "OK boys, lets go". It made me think about something my sweetie said when he talked about our son. My sweetie always referred to the pilot as "my boy". It made me smile to think that our son turned 35 this month but if his Dad were here our son would still be referred to proudly as "my boy".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6995208394280862725?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6995208394280862725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6995208394280862725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6995208394280862725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6995208394280862725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-son.html' title='Our son'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4105231672952831120</id><published>2007-12-17T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T19:53:28.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peter Piper sells sea shells...What?</title><content type='html'>I spent some time with Herbie and Big Weld today.  Herbie was sitting on my lap and I asked him what he wanted to talk about.  He said Peter Piper.  So, we tried practicing that for awhile.  Then, we changed to Sherrie sells sea shells down by the seashore. They did better with that but we started laughing as we tried to say it too fast.  Then we made a new one up with Momma collecting cans and making pans man oh man.  By then we were all laughing too hard to try again.  I love to hear them get so tickled and laugh so hard.  Later today I was talking to Big Weld. He was in a serious mood. He was carrying their cat, Tiger Kitty, around.  He said that sometimes he calls the cat Phyllis.  He told me that Phyllis ran into the road and a car hit her and killed her and now she is in heaven with Grandpa and he misses them.  We all do baby doll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4105231672952831120?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4105231672952831120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4105231672952831120&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4105231672952831120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4105231672952831120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/12/peter-piper-sells-sea-shellswhat.html' title='Peter Piper sells sea shells...What?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4315225803696334822</id><published>2007-12-09T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T20:51:40.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Song Third Verse</title><content type='html'>My sister is visiting from North Carolina and she loves the Burgerville cheeseburgers. So, tonight we went to Canby for supper. We went cross country on our way but coming back decided to come down 99E. We were in the pickup. We were just having a great time talking and I forgot to slow down when I drove through Aurora. So, before I knew it there were bright flashing lights in my rear view mirror. My first thought was boy I hope that's an ambulance. I pulled over and waited for the officer to come up to the window. My sister started saying you are not getting out of this one. The officer asked for my drivers license, registration and proof of insurance. I got my drivers license out and then said I didn't have the other things because I don't carry them because of ID theft. He said did I at least have the papers showing I had bought the pickup. I said no. Then he said did you see me sitting back there along the road. I said no. He said do you know what the speed limit is through Aurora. I had to admit that I didn't. He said stay in the truck I will be right back. He took my license. My sister kept saying your busted. Shortly, the officer was back and handed me my license. He said you were doing 52 in a 35. He said I should carry the papers showing I had bought the pickup until the license plates arrive. I said thank you, I will and with that he headed back for his car. My sister is still saying I cant believe it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4315225803696334822?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4315225803696334822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4315225803696334822&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4315225803696334822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4315225803696334822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/12/same-song-third-verse.html' title='Same Song Third Verse'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8936981957165863987</id><published>2007-11-30T20:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T20:35:24.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's the drain</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I watched Herbie and Big Weld for a little while. My Mom was in the hospital so we walked across the street to visit her. She cant walk very far so there was a commode close to her bed. I sat down on a chair and Big Weld crowded up as close to me as he could. He took everything in but didn't say a word. Herbie on the other hand noticed that Gigi (great grandma) had crooked toe nails. Then he asked where her shoes were. Then his inquisitive eye landed on the commode. He asked what it was. I said it was a potty chair for Gigi because she couldn't walk very far. He said "where's the flusher". I explained that it didn't need a flusher because there was a bucket under the seat and the bucket was dumped into the toilet. He said again. "where's the flusher". I explained again about the bucket. He asked a couple more times where the flusher was and then he understood that part of the potty chair. Then he asked "where's the drain". I explained again about the bucket and that the nurse empties the bucket into the toilet. He examined the potty chair quite closely and asked where the drain was a couple more times. Finally, he understood how the potty chair worked and then he wanted to see the bathroom. I showed him where to look saying "don't touch anything". He studied the toilet and the shower pretty closely and then smiled at me and they both were ready to go see the fish tank. Big Weld never said a word. Oh, I just remembered I was going to tell K to look in their coat pockets before she washed them because they had quarters for the candy machine and I put the candy in the pocket of their coats. Well, I dont think that will be as messy as the gum was. Oops!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8936981957165863987?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8936981957165863987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8936981957165863987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8936981957165863987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8936981957165863987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/11/wheres-drain.html' title='Where&apos;s the drain'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8987649095714859571</id><published>2007-11-20T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T20:19:50.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's he doing????</title><content type='html'>Today I had to go to the grocery store. I always drive past the store to the last driveway and turn in. That way I'm headed home when I back out of a parking space (not that that means I'm going home). Anyway, I was following a car that had it's turn signal on and started to turn at the first driveway so I started to go around and pass the car. Just before I got passed his car, he decided that he didn't want to turn there; he actually wanted to go down to the next driveway. I stepped on the gas and got around him but not before a police car coming the other way passed me and the other car. I turned into the second drive way and parked. I knew the police car was coming the wrong way in the parking lot and he parked behind me leaving room for a car to get between me and him. I took my time getting out. I was still sitting on the seat of the pickup and I looked at the policeman and said "I KNOW"!. He said what was that all about. I said that car had his signal on and was turning so I was going around when the driver changed his mind. Just then we had to stop talking while the other car drove between us. It was a really old man with both hands on the wheel and looking straight ahead. I doubt if he even saw us. I smiled at the policeman and raised my eyebrows; he smiled back and said "sounds fair to me" and we went our separate ways. The old guy never knew a thing. Now your thinking, the pot is calling the kettle black; but he was a reeeeaaallly old guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8987649095714859571?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8987649095714859571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8987649095714859571&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8987649095714859571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8987649095714859571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/11/whats-he-doing.html' title='What&apos;s he doing????'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-5714329766330905808</id><published>2007-11-17T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T22:08:34.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Competition....</title><content type='html'>There's a new 1990 blue Mustang in Mayberry. I have seen it race through town a couple of times. The driver is having way to much fun and has got to know that cant last.  I think I can get my Mustang on the road again.  This guy is going to take some attention off me for a while!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-5714329766330905808?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/5714329766330905808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=5714329766330905808&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5714329766330905808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5714329766330905808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/11/competition.html' title='Competition....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7247284594137317853</id><published>2007-11-09T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T09:15:01.028-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say that 3 times....</title><content type='html'>I stayed with Herbie and Big Weld for awhile today while K took Violet to her piano lesson.  We were trying to learn to say "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. So if Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, wheres the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked".  Big Weld's word of the day was damn it and Herbie's was poop.  So it started with damn it Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled poop.  Once Herbie said poop instead of peppers it was all over.  We got started giggling so much we never got past Peter Piper picked again but if you ever hear them get so tickled and laugh so hard you will never be the same!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7247284594137317853?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7247284594137317853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7247284594137317853&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7247284594137317853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7247284594137317853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/11/say-that-3-times.html' title='Say that 3 times....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4392188056224205522</id><published>2007-10-31T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T17:25:03.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma'am, is that an 07 or an 08?</title><content type='html'>I heard the question but in my anxiety/depressed medicated mind all I could think of was WOW that makes me feel old to be called ma'am. I was parked in the Safeway parking lot and had the pick up door wide open. I was reaching in picking up trash and my empty Starbucks cup. When I straightened up it startled me to have someone so close. When I finally realized he was still waiting for an answer I said it's an 08. He said, well, see they didn't put those ridges on the hood of the 06's. He pointed at the pickup one space over. Then he said see, well come over here and look. So, I walked over to look at the hood of his 06 pick up. It was a sand colored work pick up and I asked him if he had to order it to get that color. He said no but it is a work truck. I said mine was considered a work truck too but I had to order it; all I could find were white ones. He walked back to my pickup and he said it looks like they might have cheapened up on those front hooks. He got down on the ground to look and then he went over to look at his. No, he decided they were the same. Then he asked what size engine and everything else about the pick up. He asked what the GVW was. I said I didn't know what that was.  (I was thinking I just drive it.  I dont know how it works.) So, we had to look at the tag on the inside of the door to see what it was. I said it had a small V8. He said why did you get a V8? Isn't it hard on gas mileage? I said I just remembered what my husband always said and that was to get something bigger than the job; it will last longer because it doesn't have to work so hard and then it wont need to use as much fuel. He said he hadn't thought of it like that. We made numerous trips back and forth between the pick ups comparing every inch (inside and out) of his 06 to my 08. He pointed out what he liked about mine and what he liked about his. He finally headed back for his pickup. I said well, there cant be very much wrong with mine "It's bright red". He just laughed, waived and drove away. I meet some strange people in the Safeway parking lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4392188056224205522?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4392188056224205522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4392188056224205522&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4392188056224205522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4392188056224205522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/10/maam-is-that-07-or-08.html' title='Ma&apos;am, is that an 07 or an 08?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8131314934209511538</id><published>2007-10-24T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T18:41:35.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same song, different verse.....</title><content type='html'>Last night, after visiting my Mom at the nursing home, I headed home in my Mustang. I hadn't driven it for a while and had forgotten how much I love to drive it. I was careful to stay under 45 until I could see the 55 sign and then I ran through the gears; by the time I hit 5th I was doing 60 and still counting as I headed for Mayberry. I was enjoying the ride when I noticed very bright headlights coming up fast from behind. I started slowing down and as the car followed me I looked down to see how fast I was going. The flashing lights came on and I pulled over. When the officer came up to the window I said "was I having too much fun"? He said yup, "you were doing 68." I said oh! and he asked how fast I thought I was going. I said 60 because that was what I was doing when he turned his flashing lights on. He said he needed my license, registration and insurance. I said I have my license but not the other things; it's an ID theft issue. He said I was required to carry them. I said "well, I don't have them with me". So, he took my license and said he would be right back. When he came back, he said I know I clocked you at 68 and I just had the radar checked so I know I'm right. I said well, on one hand I don't want a ticket, but on the other if my speedo is off - good to know. He just laughed, gave me back my license and said slow down and drive carefully and with that I was on my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8131314934209511538?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8131314934209511538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8131314934209511538&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8131314934209511538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8131314934209511538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/10/same-song-different-verse.html' title='Same song, different verse.....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6195696139188328152</id><published>2007-10-14T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:02:12.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quite a Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I decided that I should start back to church. So on Sunday,I told God it didn't mean I was over being mad because I'm not but I felt it was time to try. I didn't want to talk to anyone so I got there 5 minutes late and sat in the back row. I lasted 6 minutes, but it was a start. The pastor's wife and another lady caught up with me before I got to the pickup and I had to stop and talk to them for a short time. After going for coffee and visiting the cemetery I came home. I wanted to take a shower tonight so I had to do a load of towels. I did a little cleaning and my son and his family came by. When they left Violet decided to stay with me. We do alot of silly things and laugh a lot. I walked her home and got back to my house at 6:00. I had been home most of the afternoon and my keys were burning a whole in my pocket. So about 7:00 o'clock, I returned some movies to a sister-in-law. When I left her house, I wasn't ready to go home; I wanted company, but I didn't really have much to say and didn't feel like talking. I had been thinking about my friend, Sherrie. We both worked for the State and I hadn't talked to her in quite awhile. I called her to see if she wanted to go for coffee and pie. She did so we met at Marie Callendars. Sherrie is perfect for those times you want some company but don't really want to talk to anyone. You don't have to worry about keeping the conversation going; just need to say "oh" or "wow" a couple of time. She never finishes a sentence; she just stops halfway through one and starts on something else. So, 3 hours later, I had only got a couple of questions in but it was just what I was looking for and the cherry pie was great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6195696139188328152?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6195696139188328152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6195696139188328152&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6195696139188328152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6195696139188328152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/10/quite-day.html' title='Quite a Day'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-283223015821132991</id><published>2007-10-12T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T17:48:19.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Screaming Helps</title><content type='html'>AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-283223015821132991?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/283223015821132991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=283223015821132991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/283223015821132991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/283223015821132991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/10/screaming-helps.html' title='Screaming Helps'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-444293372035479136</id><published>2007-10-01T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T16:35:54.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When can I have it?</title><content type='html'>In 2005, my sweetie and I ordered a brand new Chevy Silverado set up just as he wanted it. We usually always get red, but this time we decided to get it in black. After a while my sweetie wished he would have gotten a red one; so, I sold the black one to the pilot and ordered a bright red one. It's no secret that Violet gets the Mustang when she turns 16. Big Weld and Herbie already have dibs on the GT6. When I took the new pick up over to show them Big Weld pointed at it and said "I want that one". That's all he said but on Saturday when I was at their house getting ready to leave, Big Weld asked me when he could have the pickup. I said when he turned 16. He said OK and went happily on his way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-444293372035479136?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/444293372035479136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=444293372035479136&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/444293372035479136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/444293372035479136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/10/when-can-i-have-it.html' title='When can I have it?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7924821623515570822</id><published>2007-09-15T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T14:05:06.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Adventure in the Mustang!!</title><content type='html'>Last night my Mom called to say she didn't feel good and could I come over to the nursing home. So I called my sister to meet me there and drove to Mt Angel. We were there until about 11:00PM. I figured Mt Angel would have cleared out somewhat (Its Oktoberfest time) so I decided to go through Mt Angel instead of going on the back road to Silverton. I usually come into Silverton kinda of fast so when the lights of the police car that had been following me came on I wasn't surprised and I thought I was going to get a speeding ticket. I pulled over and waited for them to come up on both sides of my car. When they reached the window, I put the window down and said "Hello". They said "oh, we have been trying to catch a drunk kid all day. He drives a Mustang. We thought you were him. They warned me that I should slow down coming into town and with that I went on my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7924821623515570822?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7924821623515570822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7924821623515570822&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7924821623515570822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7924821623515570822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/09/another-adventure-in-mustang.html' title='Another Adventure in the Mustang!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2501967248895662395</id><published>2007-09-11T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T20:46:47.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry, housekeeping and shortcuts!!</title><content type='html'>My daughter-in-law, as her blog says, swims in laundry; but, she works at it all the time and keeps it under control in spite of her daughter and twin boys. (I want to say and husband, but I don't think he would appreciate it.) I learned from her that if you put a "color catcher" in the wash you can wash all kinds of colors together. I keep telling her that things that go into a drawer do not need to be folded. She still doesn't believe that and all her dresser drawers are all very organized. My laundry always used to be folded and put away; but that seems like a lifetime ago. Now, anything that goes into a drawer is stuffed into the drawer. I only do laundry once every 10 days or so and I started putting everything from the dryer on the bed thinking I would get back to it. I never did and at bed time I had to move it to the chair in the corner of the room. So, now I skip the bed and just put it on the chair and use the laundry from there. This week I discovered that the last load of the week does not even need to be taken out of the dryer; just get stuff out as you need it. Most of the housekeeping rules I had are gone. I used to say "nothing on the counters; nothing on the kitchen table". Now, the only reason I know I have a kitchen table is because it is piled high with stuff I never bothered putting away. I have decided that putting things away is over rated although I might have to enlarge my kitchen and get a second kitchen table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2501967248895662395?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2501967248895662395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2501967248895662395&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2501967248895662395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2501967248895662395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/09/laundry-housekeeping-and-shortcuts.html' title='Laundry, housekeeping and shortcuts!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4017405006232258547</id><published>2007-08-28T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T22:57:29.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Back</title><content type='html'>The pilot has moved his family back to his home town just in time for his first child to start first grade in the same school that he went to.  It's nice to have you and your family close by.  Thank you for giving up the big city even though it will extend your commute time.  I appreciate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4017405006232258547?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4017405006232258547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4017405006232258547&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4017405006232258547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4017405006232258547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/08/welcome-back.html' title='Welcome Back'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-758763565840180830</id><published>2007-08-19T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T21:25:36.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, What a Big Pick Up</title><content type='html'>The other day I went down to Safeway. While walking through the parking lot, a hugh, tall beautiful bright red Dodge pick up pulled into a parking spot. It sounded nice and I turned to see what size of pick up it was. The driver, a young kid, kinda gave me a dirty look. I said I was trying to read what size the pick up was because I really liked it. He said "boy that is really unusual; most people complain about it; too loud, too tall, too big. We walked into the store talking about the pick up and before we parted inside the door, I said I would take it in a second. He put his arm around me and said "Oh I love you already". I know I'm stuck in the 60's but I do like a muscle car or pick up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-758763565840180830?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/758763565840180830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=758763565840180830&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/758763565840180830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/758763565840180830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/08/wow-what-big-pick-up.html' title='Wow, What a Big Pick Up'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-5779850406364623611</id><published>2007-08-14T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T16:58:57.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A nice drive</title><content type='html'>As I've said before, I hate weekends. I got through this Saturday by spending the day with my son and his family (who wouldn't have fun with a little grandson sitting on your lap asking why your hair is white and if the little bump on your neck is your belly button). Anyway, Sunday came along and I thought I would go to Salem to get some Starbucks coffee. When I got closer to Salem I thought why not go to Albany to get it. So I drove to Albany and got coffee and got back on the freeway headed South. I didn't know where I was going I just felt like driving. It was a nice drive; when I stopped for the night I was in Chico, California. Monday, I came home on back roads and stayed off the freeway. I got home at 6:00 Monday night. What a nice drive!! Oh, I had just sold the pickup to my son; he is taking possession at the end of the month. So, don't tell him I put 1065 miles on his pickup.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-5779850406364623611?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/5779850406364623611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=5779850406364623611&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5779850406364623611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5779850406364623611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/08/nice-drive.html' title='A nice drive'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3499596357404460231</id><published>2007-08-09T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T16:41:18.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deer</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago, I looked out the dining room window and there was a hugh deer laying(?) under the bedroom window.  I looked at her; she looked at me and we both went about our business.  My business was sitting in a chair being depressed. Her business was having twins.  At the time I saw her, she was in labor.  Later when I looked out she was cleaning up 2 babies.  After they were cleaned, the babies nursed and they just wobbled away with Mom.  They like to spend late evenings in the shade in the back yard.  All 3 are doing fine.  They travel alot.  Two days ago, I saw them about a mile away; but by evening, they were back in my yard resting in the shade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3499596357404460231?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3499596357404460231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3499596357404460231&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3499596357404460231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3499596357404460231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/08/deer.html' title='Deer'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8511077087842612217</id><published>2007-07-31T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T08:58:10.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...41 years</title><content type='html'>......Larry, will you place this ring upon the finger of your bride.&lt;br /&gt;Sherrie, will you place this ring upon the finger of your husband. Let me ask you to join your right hands while we bow to pray......Now will you seal these vows thus made with a kiss and turn to the congregation. May I introduce Mr and Mrs Larry Underhill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8511077087842612217?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8511077087842612217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8511077087842612217&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8511077087842612217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8511077087842612217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/40-years-8-months-16-days-17-hours-and.html' title='...41 years'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-726542637957857088</id><published>2007-07-30T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T14:49:26.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>!!!$#@&amp;</title><content type='html'>Crapdamnit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-726542637957857088?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/726542637957857088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=726542637957857088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/726542637957857088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/726542637957857088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/blog-post.html' title='!!!$#@&amp;'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3709515866260496578</id><published>2007-07-27T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T00:03:00.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Man!!!</title><content type='html'>So, apparently, the Police do not want me to ride the quad on the street no matter how short the distance.  When I said my name, he said "oh, the red Mustang".  I think I better leave town for awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3709515866260496578?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3709515866260496578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3709515866260496578&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3709515866260496578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3709515866260496578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/oh-man.html' title='Oh, Man!!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7668904997880931023</id><published>2007-07-21T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T12:29:09.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How cool is that?</title><content type='html'>My Sweetie gave me a brand new bright red 1990 Ford Mustang, V8, 5.0, 5 speed for our 24th anniversary. He knew exactly the kind of car I loved. In the early 90's if someone asked what kind of car I drove I could say "I drive that red Mustang". Everyone knew the car. Over the years it lost it's bright red and lost alhoooot of the attention it used to get. Last fall we painted it bright red again. Since I've owned it I have loved to drive up West Hill. It is so cool to hit the bottom of the hill in third gear and goose it as you cut through the center of the curve in the road. You hit fourth gear just as you get to the top of the hill. Of course you are speeding, but the windows are down, the pipes sound good and you can feel all the power; it is so much fun. I have never gotten stopped for speeding there in all these years. Well, tonight, I came up the hill as I always do and came home and parked at the house. After a while, the doorbell rung and it was a police officer. He said they had a complaint of me driving up the hill to fast. I said how do you know it was me? He said "the person complaining said it was "that red Mustang". How cool is that? The police officer knew what car they were talking about. Oh, I did get a warning to slow down. But dang, they said it was "that red Mustang". Too cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7668904997880931023?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7668904997880931023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7668904997880931023&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7668904997880931023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7668904997880931023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/how-cool-is-this.html' title='How cool is that?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3984746056923116630</id><published>2007-07-15T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T21:27:51.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A very proud day in our family!!!</title><content type='html'>My son, husband and I finished something today that we started in June of 1990. Our son wanted to be a pilot for a major airline. Today, our son called to say that he had passed his check-ride and was now officially off of probation as a pilot for Southwest Airlines. It has been a long time coming. We all had our jobs working toward this one goal. Our son worked, went to college and did his flight training. I worked for the State of Oregon and for several years, my check went right into The Pilot's bank account so he could pay bills. We got loans, The Pilot got loans and one time we had a second mortgage and several maxed out credit cards. His Dad delivered manufactured housing and made endless trips to Klamath Falls in the middle of winter; sometimes round-tripping KFalls 4-5 times a week. He had dealers on the coast. He went out of state as far as Texas and Louisiana delivering houses to help get The Pilot through. The Pilot got married part way into the journey of getting to the airlines. They had a baby and then twin boys. The Pilot was gone alot of the time. His wife worked very hard at keeping the home fires going on flight instruction pay and then one first-year pay after another. We all kept working toward this goal; and now it's seventeen years and one month later, Wow!! Congratulations SWA pilot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3984746056923116630?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3984746056923116630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3984746056923116630&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3984746056923116630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3984746056923116630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/very-proud-day-in-our-family.html' title='A very proud day in our family!!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-581458001218879069</id><published>2007-07-14T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T18:16:11.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad songs</title><content type='html'>Before I would never listen to sad songs because they made me sad.  Now, I listen to a different type of music and they are all sad songs.  I just listen and cry but I listen to them over and over again.  There are always parts of a song that are so true.....When I saw the light of day, I wish that I could fly away, instead of kneeling in the sand, catching tear drops in my hand.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-581458001218879069?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/581458001218879069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=581458001218879069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/581458001218879069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/581458001218879069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/sad-songs.html' title='Sad songs'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6662539331444963088</id><published>2007-07-13T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T19:42:27.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow is...</title><content type='html'>my daughter-in-law's birthday.  Although she is my d-i-l, I think of her as my daughter.  She has been a great daughter and I love and appreciate her very much.  Have a happy birthday and a great day.  You deserve it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6662539331444963088?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6662539331444963088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6662539331444963088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6662539331444963088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6662539331444963088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/tomorrow-is.html' title='Tomorrow is...'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4387823398251361461</id><published>2007-07-11T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T20:28:18.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shallow Well Ranch</title><content type='html'>When my Sweetie and I bought the "little house on the corner" it had a hand-dug well which was not very deep.  It worked great in the winter but always went dry in the summer.  So, my Sweetie built an arch over the drive way and a rail fence around the yard; then he made a sign that read "Shallow Well Ranch" and hung it over the drive way.  With the horses in the pasture and the horse trailer in the drive way, it looked pretty cool.  After a few years of dry summers we drilled a well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4387823398251361461?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4387823398251361461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4387823398251361461&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4387823398251361461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4387823398251361461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/shallow-well-ranch.html' title='The Shallow Well Ranch'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-5805473679318199338</id><published>2007-07-04T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T20:34:41.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate holidays and weekends continued...</title><content type='html'>Today was a hard day. I have gotten through other holidays, but this one was really hard. I had fun with the grand kids and enjoyed talking to my son and daughter-in-law; but every day we are reminded that my Sweetie, son's Dad and Grandpa is not here. Holidays and weekends just rub that in. Almost like they are saying neener, neener. We know you are having a hard time and we wont give up a chance to make it hard for you. I cried on my way to Portland today. My D-I-L was crying when I got there so we shared some tears and then I cried myself back home. This really sucks and I'm so tired of it. The words from a song kept running through my mind - I love you and you love me and everyone sees that I was meant for you and you were meant for me"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-5805473679318199338?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/5805473679318199338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=5805473679318199338&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5805473679318199338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/5805473679318199338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-holidays-and-weekends-continued.html' title='I hate holidays and weekends continued...'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-66031183167243154</id><published>2007-06-25T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T22:17:57.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do kids do that anymore?</title><content type='html'>The other night about 7:00 I decided to cruise town in the Mustang. I had just washed it and it was bright and shiny red. I put the windows down, turned up the music and headed downtown. Just as I turned the corner and went past the big windows of the bank building I looked at the reflection of the car in the window. I hadn't thought of doing that in years. There was a time though when My sister and I would wash and wax our Dad's 56 4 door Chevy and do just that. We would spend hours washing and waxing and spraying the wheel wells white and then we would head to Salem to cruise town and watch for our reflection in the windows.  A 56 Chevy 4 door post and a 3 speed on the column might not sound like much but we couldn't have been happier. Those were the days of the 4 on the floor. My sister, Sue, got quite good at faking a 4 on the floor with the 3 on the column....well, you had to be there. BFF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-66031183167243154?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/66031183167243154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=66031183167243154&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/66031183167243154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/66031183167243154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-kids-do-that-anymore.html' title='Do kids do that anymore?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-464691299141848092</id><published>2007-06-23T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T17:51:34.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories from happier days!</title><content type='html'>I just sold our truck on Thursday morning and it broke my heart to see it drive away.  So, since I always feel better if I am driving, I grabbed my keys and my money and left in the pickup.  I drove east on I-84 until I was an hour from Boise and it was 12:30A before I could face stopping.  But, going through the Blue Mountains, I saw a sign for Immigrant Springs State Park and it made  me  think of a happy memory.  When we were very young, my brother Norm, my Sweetie and I would go on weekend drives. My brother had a little car called a Midget.  It was a tight fit for all three of us, but we were alot skinnier in those days. One night we camped at Immigrant Springs.  In those days, all we used was sleeping bags and slept on the ground under the stars. I always remember how safe and happy I was to be sleeping so close to my Sweetie.  We would get in the sleeping bag and he would snap it up; we  fit into one single sleeping bag very comfortably.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-464691299141848092?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/464691299141848092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=464691299141848092&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/464691299141848092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/464691299141848092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/06/memories-from-happier-days.html' title='Memories from happier days!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1065218801255543126</id><published>2007-06-19T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T17:55:37.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays and weekends - Yuk</title><content type='html'>When I worked for the State of Oregon, I always looked forward to the holidays and weekends; but things change and not always for the good. Since March 17th, I have begun to hate holidays and weekends. Some holidays you think about more than others but holidays are holidays. Now, I'm just trying to get through all the firsts without my sweetie. I got through Palm Sunday and Easter. Then there was Mother's day and Memorial Day. Now we are in June and I had to get through the first Sunday of June when I got my engagement ring and then June 7th - Larry's birthday and then Father's day. I still have to get through July 4th and July birthdays on the 14th and 19th and our anniversary on July 31 then on to Labor day, Columbus day, Veterans day,Thanksgiving, a December 7th birthday then Christmas and January 1, January 9th and Martin Luther King's birthday. Then February comes along with Valentines day and Presidents' day and that brings us to March and we are back to St Patrick's day - one whole year of firsts. I cant wait to get it over with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1065218801255543126?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1065218801255543126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1065218801255543126&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1065218801255543126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1065218801255543126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/06/holidays-and-weekends-yuk.html' title='Holidays and weekends - Yuk'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2297645064029321373</id><published>2007-06-13T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T19:25:50.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little House on the Corner</title><content type='html'>I went by the house today (it was the first house we bought 8 months after we were married).  Whenever I go by, I think about this story. When my Sweetie and I were very young, we bought a little house out in the country.  The little house was on a little piece of ground on a corner of the highway.  On one end of the acre was a small creek with a spring and 3 very old tall willow trees.  My Sweetie hung bag swings from high up in the limbs of one of the trees.  It seemed like you could swing forever before you started back the other way.  For some reason, whenever we were down swinging, our 2 horses always wanted to walk through and stand in the corner of the pasture while we were swinging.  One day, I was just sitting on my swing and the horses came through kind-of-fast and I and my swing got caught on one of the horse's chest and he pushed me high into the limbs of the tree and then my swing slid off and I went very fast and very high in the other direction.  Suddenly, I was headed back and going straight for the horse's back feet.  He would have kicked me half way to the moon.  I was screaming and so scared I couldn't think but my Sweetie jumped and caught my swing and stopped me just before I collided with the horse.  I still think about how scared I was and how my hero saved me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2297645064029321373?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2297645064029321373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2297645064029321373&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2297645064029321373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2297645064029321373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/06/little-house-on-corner.html' title='The Little House on the Corner'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-527929090446115270</id><published>2007-06-09T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T10:50:48.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Violet, Herbie, Big Weld and Grandpa</title><content type='html'>The kids have their different ways of getting along without Grandpa.  Violet is sad and sometimes will mention sitting in the chair and watching Star Wars or other movies with Grandpa or driving Grandpa's tractor.  When you say who loves Grandma, Big Weld always says "love Grandpa".  Herbie thinks a little deeper.  Once when my DIL was crying Herbie asked why she was crying.  When she said she was sad about Grandpa, Herbie said once he held on to Grandpa's hands and walked up him and touched the ceiling.  "That's funny Mom".  Another time, Herbie and Big Weld had tried to flush a comb down the tolet and Grandpa went to their house to get it out.  Just the other day, Herbie told Mom that Grandpa said "no, no, no, dont flush a comb down the tolet". They all know Grandpa is in Heaven and they are keeping his memory  in their own ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-527929090446115270?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/527929090446115270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=527929090446115270&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/527929090446115270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/527929090446115270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/06/violet-herbie-big-weld-and-grandpa.html' title='Violet, Herbie, Big Weld and Grandpa'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-986889631239799098</id><published>2007-05-28T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T19:39:47.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue and Lonesome</title><content type='html'>...these lonesome blues I just can't lose; I'm blue and lonesome too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-986889631239799098?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/986889631239799098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=986889631239799098&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/986889631239799098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/986889631239799098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/blue-and-lonesome.html' title='Blue and Lonesome'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-4197242948986909619</id><published>2007-05-27T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T21:02:56.515-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another session with my personal trainers!</title><content type='html'>Last week I had a great workout.  My 3 personal trainers really thought this training through.  Herbie and Big Weld have discovered swinging; Violet inventd a game for her and I  to play during her session.  My session started with Violet saying Grandma, sit on the big balance ball. OK, I felt like sitting down.  The next thing I knew she was flying through the air and yelling catch me without falling of the ball.  I barely recovered from her jump and Herbie yelled Grandma push me higher.  Then Violet said Grandma, sit on the ball.  Then Big Weld yelled Grandma, push me higher.  Apparently, Violet thought I needed to work on my balance and Herbie and Big Weld thought I should do some upper body work.  Anyway, That's how it went, sit on the ball Grandma, Grandma push me higher, Grandma sit on the ball, Grandma push me higher.  By the time I caught Violet, jumped up and pushed Herbie, sat down on the ball to catch Violet and then jumped up to push Big Weld a few hundred times, I felt like I had a great workout and we had so much fun.  Good thing Mom was there to fix supper.  I stayed after supper to help with baths, stories and bed, but I'm afraid I was not much help.  I was just too tired; but what a nice day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-4197242948986909619?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/4197242948986909619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=4197242948986909619&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4197242948986909619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/4197242948986909619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/another-session-with-my-personal.html' title='Another session with my personal trainers!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8708393966017249110</id><published>2007-05-21T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T16:13:09.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My second baby is back home</title><content type='html'>The Mustang came home today and she's as gorgeous as ever (almost). Now, if I can just keep her safe.  I drove it about 100 miles today and she is good to go.  A road trip is calling me!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8708393966017249110?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8708393966017249110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8708393966017249110&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8708393966017249110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8708393966017249110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-second-baby-is-back-home.html' title='My second baby is back home'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-2364069642584889605</id><published>2007-05-18T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T08:23:05.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I've learned since.......</title><content type='html'>I cant use a siphon hose anymore, if you run the riding lawn mower out of gas, it is very hard to get started after you put gas in, how to use spray engine starter, how to clean a spark plug, how to use an air compressor to pump up tires, how to put a battery charger on to get a tractor started, how to climb up into a semi truck and get it started and then figure out how to get down without falling out, how to find a key code and have a new key made for a freightliner after you loose the key,how to use the bucket on the tractor for all kinds of things, that if you put the bucket on the ground to hard it will raise the front of the tractor off the ground, how to use the front loader and load the trailer with scrap metal and haul it to the scrap metal sales place,I still cry when I think about Big Weld and Herbie asking Mom when Grandpa is coming back from Jesus' house, that when a mouse dies under the house I cant crawl under to remove it, how to hook the trailer to the pickup,I carry a pocket knife now so I can "pocket knife it",  how to hook the disc to the tractor and disc the garden space, how my granddaughter, Violet, can miss me when I'm with her, how Big Weld and Herbie figure that if Grandpa could take being pushed, pulled, jumped on, spindled, and mutilated why couldn't Grandma take it,  I cant keep Larry's pickup as clean as he did, and if someone takes your Mustang and rapes and humiliates her you will hate the guy and most importantly, you can lose your beloved husband and it is not the end of the world....but you can see it from here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-2364069642584889605?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/2364069642584889605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=2364069642584889605&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2364069642584889605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/2364069642584889605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-ive-learned-since.html' title='Things I&apos;ve learned since.......'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-744032560642199253</id><published>2007-05-15T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T16:54:12.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh!!</title><content type='html'>Two things went right today....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-744032560642199253?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/744032560642199253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=744032560642199253&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/744032560642199253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/744032560642199253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/huh.html' title='Huh!!'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-8268936722531105360</id><published>2007-05-08T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T15:15:25.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are Better times coming?</title><content type='html'>...I've got to tell you I've been racking my brain, hoping to find a way out.  I've had enough of this continual rain, changes are coming no doubt... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been too long a time without peace of mind and I'm ready for the times to get better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem to want from me what I cannot give, I feel so lonesome at times.  I had the dream that I wish I could live; it's burning holes in my mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been too long a time without peace of mind, and I'm ready for the times to get better...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-8268936722531105360?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/8268936722531105360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=8268936722531105360&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8268936722531105360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/8268936722531105360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/05/are-better-times-coming.html' title='Are Better times coming?'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-115730418472779177</id><published>2007-04-25T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T14:16:56.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A drive through the gardens</title><content type='html'>I went past the Mental Hospital on Center St today and it made me think way back  to when my sweetie and I were very young.  We were driving past the hospital and noticed that the walkways through the beautiful gardens (in 1966, the grounds were beautiful) were wide enough to drive on.  We drove a bright red Triump Spitfire and it was  kind of a small car; we took advantage of that some times.  Anyway, we turned in and drove all over the gardens in the car.   It wasnt long after that, they put a post up so you couldnt drive through.  That always made us smile when we drove by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-115730418472779177?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/115730418472779177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=115730418472779177&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/115730418472779177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/115730418472779177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/drive-through-gardens.html' title='A drive through the gardens'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1107748031284808205</id><published>2007-04-22T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T19:51:05.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A wintry garden</title><content type='html'>The garden of my heart is covered with snow.  When I pray there is no answer.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1107748031284808205?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1107748031284808205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1107748031284808205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1107748031284808205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1107748031284808205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/wintry-garden.html' title='A wintry garden'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3858624249891340144</id><published>2007-04-16T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T15:48:57.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Time....</title><content type='html'>O God, we have come to a wintry place, You and I.  Will Spring Time ever come?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3858624249891340144?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3858624249891340144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3858624249891340144&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3858624249891340144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3858624249891340144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/spring-time.html' title='Spring Time....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-6805600371707718448</id><published>2007-04-15T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T11:26:03.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You can fly, but you cant hide.....</title><content type='html'>For the last week or so I thought I would feel better if I could get away.  I have free passes on SWA (Thanks to our son's very hard work), so I flew to North Carolina to stay with my sister.  The night of the first day I knew that was not going to work although I managed to stay 3 days.  I came home on Delta because they had the soonest flight home.  While I was there, I saw alot of things, and I kept thinking"oh, I want to tell Larry".  Things like I saw the Biltmore Estate, (The Morley Manner to anyone that has seen the movie The Private Eyes), Jill's new house, Dale's new car, I got bumped to first class coming home;  And, then of course the next thought; I cant tell Larry.  Since I had a lot of time to think, I was thinking of you.   Like at night when you were home and we would  surf TV and I would ask you if their was anything new in your line of work and you always said "No, just the same old drag".  Later when I got up to make lunch or clean the kitchen,  you would say"Oh, I know what I wanted to tell you, "I love you".  Then I would lean over and kiss you and go about my chores.  Every time I see a mobile home I think of you saying  "no, just the same old drag".  Anyway, I am home now and wonder why I came home so soon but I quess it is a little more comforting to be at home than away.   Anyway, "Oh, I know what I wanted to tell you, "I love you".   --Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-6805600371707718448?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/6805600371707718448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=6805600371707718448&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6805600371707718448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/6805600371707718448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-can-fly-but-you-cant-hide.html' title='You can fly, but you cant hide.....'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-713181788166150253</id><published>2007-04-07T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T11:47:56.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ditch at Henn's Corner</title><content type='html'>There was a car in the ditch this morning at Henn's corner.  Of course it made me smile to remember the night we had our first kiss.  You said you were thinking about the kiss and you didn't slow down for the corner and went into the ditch.   The big horse shoe that I had given you flew from the back seat and hit you in the head.  You had a big knot on the back of your head, but years later, it still made us smile when we went past the corner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-713181788166150253?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/713181788166150253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=713181788166150253&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/713181788166150253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/713181788166150253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/ditch-at-henns-corner.html' title='The Ditch at Henn&apos;s Corner'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-336945005052142338</id><published>2007-04-02T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T17:27:29.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf Course Tunnel</title><content type='html'>I was out at Senior Estates today and went by the tunnel  for the golf carts . The tunnel goes under 214.  When my sweetie and I were very young, we used to drive our 1966 Triumph Spitfire under it.  When I went past the tunnel I thought of getting out the Triumph GT6  and doing it again but my luck has not been good lately.  I would have been caught for sure.   Looking back  we didnt realize that those were the times of our lives!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-336945005052142338?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/336945005052142338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=336945005052142338&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/336945005052142338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/336945005052142338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/04/golf-course-tunnel.html' title='Golf Course Tunnel'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-1576664323154695226</id><published>2007-03-31T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T18:38:38.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories are Sad</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You use to rock me in the cradle of your arms.  You said you'd hold me 'til the things of life were gone.  You said you'd comfort me in times like these and now I need you.  Now I need you and you are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since you've gone and left me there's been so little beauty but I know I saw it clearly through your eyes.  Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place.  Here inside I have few things that will console.  And when I try to hear your voice above the storms of life, then I remember all the things that I was told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think on the things that made me feel so wonderful when I was young.  I think on the things that made me laugh, made me dance, made me sing.  I think on the things that made me grow into a being full of pride.  I think on these things for they are true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that you were gone but now I know you are with me.  You are the voice that whispers all I need to hear.  I know a please, a thank you and a smile will take me far.  I know that I am you and you are me and we are one.  I know that who I am is numbered in each grain of sand.  I know that I've been blessed again and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always love you Larry!!!  Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-1576664323154695226?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/1576664323154695226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=1576664323154695226&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1576664323154695226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/1576664323154695226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/03/memories-are-sad.html' title='Memories are Sad'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-7019183881536113306</id><published>2007-03-12T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T19:21:50.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun With My Personal Trainers</title><content type='html'>Today, I finished my first week in yet another weight loss class.  I lost 6.2 lbs.   I was thinking I should follow my same menu again for the next week; but after thinking about the weight loss, I decided that it was not so much the menu as the workouts with my personal trainers.  On Saturday, I had a double session with two (twins) cute little boys and on Sunday, my more experienced trainer (My beautiful almost 6 year old granddaughter)  gave me a great workout playing  hide-n-seek in the barnyard.  We had so much fun.  I'm looking forward to the next workouts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-7019183881536113306?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/7019183881536113306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=7019183881536113306&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7019183881536113306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/7019183881536113306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/03/fun-with-my-personal-trainers.html' title='Fun With My Personal Trainers'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7060445540915156318.post-3831575601078888747</id><published>2007-03-07T14:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T14:28:50.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post</title><content type='html'>This is only a test......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7060445540915156318-3831575601078888747?l=answersinthequestion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/feeds/3831575601078888747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7060445540915156318&amp;postID=3831575601078888747&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3831575601078888747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7060445540915156318/posts/default/3831575601078888747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://answersinthequestion.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-post.html' title='First Post'/><author><name>The Answer's In The Question</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09009330169254306001</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
