tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61772758149139854232024-03-18T21:27:20.627-07:00The World According to AnniAnnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-46829626748778345392008-05-12T21:07:00.000-07:002008-05-18T08:34:17.335-07:00Kiera Knightly Did it!Back in September when I was looking for my (now) house. My realtor and good friend Emma <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Faris</span></span> told us her three good luck charms of a house are, A laundry shoot, a built in pencil sharpener and a built in bottle opener. When I first toured my now home, after close inspection we discovered this house had all three. We already knew the laundry chute existed, but we were in the basement when we first discovered the pencil sharpener and joked wouldn't it be fun if there was a bottle opener too??? As we rounded the corner there it was just on the other side of the wall where the pencil sharpener was. And as luck would have it both in the basement right where the laundry chute expels its wares. We couldn't help it we all had to cheer. This was a sign. Kind of like in "Under the Tuscan Sun" when the bird poops on the lady looking at the house. And in Italy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">if a bird craps on you it's </span> a sign of good luck, she got the house. Kind of like that but much less messier, I decided this was the house.<br />It took me a while to realize in my perfect little good luck charm of a house that, I was putting things down the c<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXvQy-cuda17lg4gTGZNQ16SaQ5lfpXZkoGpdYEW_mRFmVIbAxxlDSyV4P96DLS5z2gtiJdQd-G2fIIqGLdxlkO5CJwC7qVig23WjX4GhqfRkvM1G7LCBilgCVykR5DjICGdW6kAjJbBO/s1600-h/IMG_0618.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXvQy-cuda17lg4gTGZNQ16SaQ5lfpXZkoGpdYEW_mRFmVIbAxxlDSyV4P96DLS5z2gtiJdQd-G2fIIqGLdxlkO5CJwC7qVig23WjX4GhqfRkvM1G7LCBilgCVykR5DjICGdW6kAjJbBO/s320/IMG_0618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200201146764851794" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hute</span></span> but they weren't landing in my laundry basket below. In fact I didn't realize until I started really running low on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">apparel</span>, both for O and myself. So the next time I tossed my towel in I listened for the familiar thud. No thud. I stuck my head in as far as I dared and could not see down to the bottom. In fact I saw my towel. I reached in and grabbed it. And then I grabbed another. Uh oh I'd better go get a tong. So I ran down stairs and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grabbed</span> my little tong, reached in pull out a pair of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">O's</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">jammies</span></span> and her trendy pair of grey skinny jeans from H&M, but accidentally manage to push the rest of the clothes down just out of my reach. One more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">loooong</span></span> stretch oops I dropped my tongs. I could feel it though there was more, I have a longer tong. I'll just go get it. So I run back downstairs to grab my longer set of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bbq</span></span> tongs. It works I get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">O's</span></span> sock and some undies but manage to shove the rest in even further, but not before dropping my second tongs. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ok</span></span> there is pretty much no way I am going to be able to get the rest of these clothes out the top. I'll just shove it down. It just needs a really good shove. The problem is, the chute is narrow with an awkward angle so a good shove is harder to come by than you may think. I tried the long arm of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">vacuum</span></span> cleaner too long and not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">flexible</span></span> enough. Oh I know a fire poker perfect! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ok</span></span> note to self whenever you think it's a good idea to use a fire poker when it's something that doesn't involve fire, don't. Just don't. But I did and yep I lost it down there. How many times does it take me to learn my lesson?? Many. Some lessons may have yet to be learned. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Ok</span></span> the only thing that is going to work is if I throw something really heavy down there like a bowling ball. I don't have a bowling ball. I hate bowling. Or even better my dutch oven. Oh no I cannot risk losing my dutch oven in there. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ahhhh</span></span> weights. My two eight pound weights. That should move that little clog no problem and if not well I guess I wasn't really using them anyway, I'd moved on to the twelve <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">pounders</span></span> (j/k dude but don't I look ripped?) Down the hatch they go <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">simultaneously</span>. I flinch waiting for the crash. Nada. Not even a thud. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Ok</span></span> this isn't working. Next plan wait for the seasons to change and the metal on the chute might expand letting all of the clothes pass though naturally. Just as in the cycles of nature this too should just take care of it's self. I can pretty much justify anything. This is my way of saying F it. I'm going to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Cabo</span></span> and don't have time for this and don't need any of that winter wear anyway. Nine weeks pass and we return. Spring was supposed to show up about a week ago but apparently over slept. There was still snow on the ground and now I really needed that stopped up clothing. There was only one last solution. Call Michael <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Rottschaefer</span></span>. If you know me or anyone in my family you know Mike. My family would not function without him. He's my brothers friend from high school but to us he is so much more. To us he is our household savior. Without him my mother, sister and I at one point may have all been living by candle light as he's in charge of all the high <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">light bulbs</span> and they are almost all high. I once confessed to my sister that the only two drawbacks to being single is that I have to change my own light bulbs and I don't get to have sex. Everything else is pretty much great. Mike takes care of the light bulbs and apparently clogged clothes chutes. So I called him and I gave him fair warning. I thought he might want to bring a helmet, or he could borrow mine, the one I use for cooking (keep up people). I honestly was afraid he might get knocked out by the weights and end up with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">fire poker</span> in his head.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoj8y-VI8ZmKZdWyaro_JouQBuJ0SAlgZiM2XZr-TgDMkb3FvZ4CDZXY2S18iHhPzjufn_v0azhl1_FzwHvxyrmAbxybS5N3oN6wPizdKCBDIA7ZbS7M1kNE9-tveL1Ct8YLakD5r2Vd5/s1600-h/IMG_0615.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoj8y-VI8ZmKZdWyaro_JouQBuJ0SAlgZiM2XZr-TgDMkb3FvZ4CDZXY2S18iHhPzjufn_v0azhl1_FzwHvxyrmAbxybS5N3oN6wPizdKCBDIA7ZbS7M1kNE9-tveL1Ct8YLakD5r2Vd5/s320/IMG_0615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200201138174917186" border="0" /></a><br />I love Mike because when I told him of my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">dilemma</span> he just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">says</span> something like "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">hmmmm</span></span> interesting, I'm going to think about that and see what I can come up with". Not "Oh hell no lady there is no way I'm going near that thing and neither is anyone else with half a brain, you are SOL in a couple of years your clothing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">reminants</span></span> will <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">fossilize</span> and then you might have something worth digging for." Did I mention my daughter LOVES him. She knows. Sometimes when I'm messing with something some what technical and seem to be struggling (which I usually am it's an inherited trait), she say "Stop mom! Have Michael <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Rotchshay</span></span> fix it." She's right. This time Mike came over armed with an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">extenda</span></span> pole with a hook attached to the end of it. From here I really think the video should speak for itself. Next to Indiana Jones it is the craziest thing you will see this summer. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Ok</span></span> so maybe not but if Indiana Jones is the craziest thing you really do do this summer this probably is a close second. Uh oh guess not. I tried downloading my little film about 6 times but to no avail. So long movie short, about twenty items of clothing came down when hooked by Mikes contraption. Then we heard an odd rustling which he finally got a good grip on and when it dislodged down came crashing the rest of the goods. The culprit?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nMLnFBnVxL29pCBzia1lfzEbC7a7_bV0dtYCmZRsBc6_CGymwFv5Hwj8COvI-mzW4IA2B9syiTAFewyY7mGU7ac6AnDvLO-eGvQkT9wZ2DyofXq7l7034a_-RCwxN6pT9uEeosr_HReZ/s1600-h/IMG_0620.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nMLnFBnVxL29pCBzia1lfzEbC7a7_bV0dtYCmZRsBc6_CGymwFv5Hwj8COvI-mzW4IA2B9syiTAFewyY7mGU7ac6AnDvLO-eGvQkT9wZ2DyofXq7l7034a_-RCwxN6pT9uEeosr_HReZ/s320/IMG_0620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200201151059819106" border="0" /></a> An Elle magazine with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Keira</span></span> Knightly on the cover of it stopped up over two weeks of clothing. Little hussy I never did like her anyway. And look at what she made my precious little daughter do! I'm sure Ophelia didn't mean to throw the magazine down the shoot. It was all the social pressure. It was just Ophelia's way of bucking the system. Down with unrealistic model types, toss em in the chute. I'm so proud she's all ready got a bit of social protest. Good girl baby don't let that creepy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Keira</span></span> get you down before you send her down with our dirty laundry. How poetic. Or maybe she just thought it looked like a fun to throw something down the chute.<br />Little did I realize that a two year old and the laundry chute may present more challenges than expected. I am now realizing that each household lucky charm may represent a different stage of my child's wonder years. The two year old stuffing up the chute. The eight year old breaking off her pencil in the wall attached sharpener and the fifteen year old cracking a cold one downstairs and didn't think I'd notice. Oh I'm gonna notice. It may have taken me 3 months to blame <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Keira</span></span> Knightly for this whole chute incident but believe you me, I got to the bottom of it. That little pirate is going down! And don't even tell me that is your first beer! I Know little Jimmy told you to down it and then play spin the bottle. Oh baby you don't even know what that means let me protect your little mind. JIMMY YOUR TOAST!<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Keira's</span></span> out, Jimmy's toast and I've got my winter clothes back. Three cheers for Michael <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Rotchay</span></span>!..fer!Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-62715292502225886062008-05-08T17:57:00.000-07:002008-05-13T08:44:25.080-07:00Sweet Moves<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVA2IakjCvkr4zee_Qr9soypkpXT4M1oyaGF-APcE1IXbL9gsyYATV5yRSlXnEzZQOQVGg_5zhsdd1SwJkisWFgg3KqOytFkcMuh3cV6DDoMuKz4B_YRyyeoBf3kdbvu9Zx1Dqm54sjrCn/s1600-h/IMG_0639.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVA2IakjCvkr4zee_Qr9soypkpXT4M1oyaGF-APcE1IXbL9gsyYATV5yRSlXnEzZQOQVGg_5zhsdd1SwJkisWFgg3KqOytFkcMuh3cV6DDoMuKz4B_YRyyeoBf3kdbvu9Zx1Dqm54sjrCn/s320/IMG_0639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198195057403611858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I realize that so much of life is about the little things. I often get caught up in the grand adventures. Always looking for my next big story. But so often and even more so since Ophelia came on the scene, my world has grown so much smaller. Not narrow, I just now have started to appreciate more of the day to day events. Little things that just make you happy. After spending so many weeks in Mexico focusing on my great adventures and action packed lifestyle I am almost relearning how to appreciate my day to day. Being with Ophelia makes that so easy. She is the silliest kid on earth. Today she found our bike helmets. She is obsessed with bikes and I need to get her one asap. But until I do she's more than happy to wear her helmet around. But of course I had to wear mine too. So I wore my helmet today while makin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcoBC0MMCZ9TNBZqPayrlBrIqTPKWmJBvEzWxTdAqp7ZdriH9ZrASfdVH9mzqrpSKCn4OcIHVnX4IfZejS1ADWxGgM4cydQLrIXHolNqFfN44kJ0gZ6qhCP00fE1wE4aci3nRaTHalnOZ_/s1600-h/IMG_0662.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcoBC0MMCZ9TNBZqPayrlBrIqTPKWmJBvEzWxTdAqp7ZdriH9ZrASfdVH9mzqrpSKCn4OcIHVnX4IfZejS1ADWxGgM4cydQLrIXHolNqFfN44kJ0gZ6qhCP00fE1wE4aci3nRaTHalnOZ_/s320/IMG_0662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199615188671625730" border="0" /></a>g dinner and she made me pretend tea. I'm sure if John the neighbor was peeking across the way and into our window he'd be quite curious what sort of concoction I'd been cooking that required a helmet. It takes an Ophelia to show you that the best dinner is made with a helmet on.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ50_KCWi-v4QbGLt-y1048b6aL2D5Z9Zb45wQGHRZkR96P9pdTND5qH_3ExRr4pg2KC5mQRn5DehBkXtRVqH5fgFSDUyqInzK-bbC9JmJ5MVm98fjcFCQBRDlEW_4UBmBJiYQd2sGDsOM/s1600-h/IMG_0664.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ50_KCWi-v4QbGLt-y1048b6aL2D5Z9Zb45wQGHRZkR96P9pdTND5qH_3ExRr4pg2KC5mQRn5DehBkXtRVqH5fgFSDUyqInzK-bbC9JmJ5MVm98fjcFCQBRDlEW_4UBmBJiYQd2sGDsOM/s320/IMG_0664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199615218736396850" border="0" /></a><br />I am now solid that I will be spending my summer here in Minnesota and then most definitely not in the fall (hows that for cryptic). But I am in the practice of trying to appreciate Minnesota to it's fullest this spring and summer. And so far I've come up with quite a few things. First of being the sun and nice weather. I know we all appreciate that. But with these things comes the first sprouts of my gardens. This is very exciting and intimidating. Because also with the sunshine comes my neighbors all of which tell me how magnificent my gardens are, and how Greg and Allen did such a beautiful job. I'm thinking I'm a little out of my league here. First of all I'm not gay. We all know there is a certain stereotype that points to many of a certain persuasion having a strong affinity for expert housekeeping and the upper hand on the green thumb practices. That stereotype does not pertain to one single mom, who's idea of housekeeping is being out of the house as much as possible so I don't have to deal with it, open some windows and hope it all blows away. Ok not really but if I could get away with it I would. However, I do like gardening, (it gets me away from the house stuff) but these gardens are award winning. Seriously when<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytiwE2DPdfSyDCBqgHFCDr1f7Pt8mNSM60b2cNMUVDO5mUQGteE2KuLD395iUP2Jg7N6PCdKfbcnc3lBoaSW3VBS2oODMnmTf_gyQrObWjI-mQ5nkURj12C_ijgMuhAUb6PH-XryOgzyg/s1600-h/IMG_0646.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytiwE2DPdfSyDCBqgHFCDr1f7Pt8mNSM60b2cNMUVDO5mUQGteE2KuLD395iUP2Jg7N6PCdKfbcnc3lBoaSW3VBS2oODMnmTf_gyQrObWjI-mQ5nkURj12C_ijgMuhAUb6PH-XryOgzyg/s320/IMG_0646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199615201556527634" border="0" /></a> I first looked at the house they had their awards out on the table. To make matters more intimidating the old home owners are friends with my next door gaybors and visit them often. I mean I have so many questions. Do I mulch EVERYTHING? Whats a weed and what belongs? Which side is the gaybors and which side is mine? Where do we draw the line? Do I mulch just half the garden and leave the other side? What does mulch do. It sounds like a cowboy word. "I'm goin' down to dirty mulch to fetch me some gaybors ya comin' Tanto?" The truth is I just want to be accepted. The lesbians down the road already love me. I think we should be best friends but the gaybors are tougher nuts to crack.<br /><br />That is another thing that spring brings that I am beyond excited about. Fresh, seasonal fare. I was in Whole Foods the other day and saw ramps. I get really excited about these things. I started not quite shouting but not quite not either. "Oh my gosh they have ramps. Really already? Yes ramps! I'm so excited. Ophelia look they have rampssssss....."oooops that's right I'm in public. But seriously I wanted to drop everything and give the produce section an impromptu lesson on the glorious ramp. Since I couldn't do it there I'll just sing their praises quickly here. Ramps are almost like wild garlic. They smell like garlic but are much softer. They look like a green onion but you can cook the whole piece root to tip. The greens are almost like spinach. One of my favorite local restaurants the Craftsman which also happens to be two blocks from my house, was also celebrating the ramp and had them all over the menu. Their season is short so I guess we wild and crazy chefs put them in everything we can get our hands on. I had also ordered the pork rillets which are amazing and so full of flavor. I saved half of them because I always thought they would be good in eggs. So what do you think I had for breakfast this morning??? That's right ramps and rillits eggs. Sounds so very British doesn't it. "Mummy please pass the ramps and rillets". "Not till you've eaten your banga's and mash". I do spend quite a bit of time alone.<br />Its getting w<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBskg2W4ZSp4BeqhdcqWlJzr32E75xMthh73r-Zht6YY9alJYa_ZX7s6JQvBytXwuXLeIlzIHiLUIxdD1tOLi9i239c82KBsVLwhBXF4aFN6CU4FWpyXESpXIEayPPyeDUXfRH_lhz2SUv/s1600-h/IMG_0644.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBskg2W4ZSp4BeqhdcqWlJzr32E75xMthh73r-Zht6YY9alJYa_ZX7s6JQvBytXwuXLeIlzIHiLUIxdD1tOLi9i239c82KBsVLwhBXF4aFN6CU4FWpyXESpXIEayPPyeDUXfRH_lhz2SUv/s320/IMG_0644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199610666071062994" border="0" /></a>arm so we are spending lots of time outside. I've been for a walk or run every morning that the sun shines. Now that I live right be the river I run down the parkway towards the U. And if I'm there at the right time I get to see the UofM crew teams out for practice. I decided that if I were to stay in Mpls for quite some time I would take up crew. I've never even been on our river and I am such a water sport person. I can imagine rowing with a bunch of gals in the early morning on the misty river and seeing all of Minneapolis and St. Paul come alive from the lower perspective of the river. Somebody told me they don't think they have an old lady crew its just for the students. I was kind of offended but then I heard they did have an over 25 crew and if that is old lady count me in. Little bastards trying to make me feel old. I don't think I'll have time for it<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoq7GIQ_XZXaK_B-VOAuule3vaef1bS1_J_SgWjBZOEAs0rnMHZEukQL1dVrLGrQ9wQXQwtPgeeJVNVdDHtZt4U4DnIgkEWvd0wI5Kt78_boykLvrsrWHaTzHUsI0iYnXrL8_paTeMVG8C/s1600-h/IMG_0653.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoq7GIQ_XZXaK_B-VOAuule3vaef1bS1_J_SgWjBZOEAs0rnMHZEukQL1dVrLGrQ9wQXQwtPgeeJVNVdDHtZt4U4DnIgkEWvd0wI5Kt78_boykLvrsrWHaTzHUsI0iYnXrL8_paTeMVG8C/s320/IMG_0653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199610674660997602" border="0" /></a> this year so for now I'll just appreciate the from the banks above.<br /><br />Another piece of summer that I am really looking forward to are my trips. I am finally wrapping my head around the fact that there is more to life than just Mexico. There is France and Chicago too. I have written our French friends and told them that I am now SCUBA certified and would be up for a dive or too. Suzanne wrote back and said the Jean Paul has a boat and will take me out diving around the islands. Jean Paul was the first person that I ever went diving with. It was just a little taster, no deeper the 30 feet for 30 minutes but in that time I had an octopus whip out a tentacle from a crevice and wrap it around my arm then escape though ink blotted waters. Hooked. The Octopus is my animal. When we got out of the water we saw a man in a wet suit with a knife and a belt full of octopus. Now that's my kind of eating. I totally need to be an aqua huntress. I just don't know if an I could kill one of my own kind. Did you that an octopus has three hearts? I don't have three but I have one really big one.... Or maybe it was three stomachs, well either way.<br />I also have a ladies trip to Chicago planned. This is just a weekend get away but for as long as I have had all of these friends I think the last time we did anything remotely like this we went to my dads cabin as a planned ladies weekend. achem. Ladies comments??? Ok let this just be said. Heather's a bad ass. Angie the lake is right....oops in front of you. This is a little bit of a different group just because it has morphed that way but it still comes from the same roots and I am expecting a rocken good time. Though this time if anybody falls in the lake it will be lake Michigan and that wouldn't be so good. All I can say is that trip to my dad's cabin on Elbow lake formed bonds to never be broken and friendships remain steadfast though a continent apart. I'm not putting that expectation on Chicago but when you get a bunch of super awesome women together for such a trip it's pretty hard to avoid. ooooo I almost forgot about Mazatlan...but we don't talk about that...do we ladies.<br />And one last little appreciation before I end this little article. It is again of my daughter who has now taken up the practice of singing at the top of her lungs. The other day we were in Target picking out Confirmation cards for my niece Susannah and she just busted out with "Your attitude towards cuttle fish could be improved if that's your wish. I'm not forcing youuuu." It's her fave song on her kids tape. I have no idea what its supposed to mean but it sure is catchy. We both sing it in the car. She also likes to play the cutting board (guitar) while she sings and then show off her sweet break dancing moves. Video taping this was the highlight of my afternoon. She enjoyed the performance but insisted on seeing the video each time. Then creating a repeat performance with even more passion than the last. I think we may have a starlet on our hands.<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwPr1f6C8JyCLfyt8qbgFyHD2Njz37_s778u8xQ-_nbUD55awbNdZR-89MEMTrWy7CcEYjQnOmyVf10VPkEFA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-30687225130188890902008-04-24T13:07:00.000-07:002008-04-25T07:42:58.590-07:00Some Good MemoriesToday is Mikey's Birthday and I just wanted to take this opportunity to remember some really<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Xtqw2L4qe_qnZrEr6ieW8ejSyszhUELK2DNKvLwI7UXALoh19sEo1W0UjPumr6aJvLjyD9YXAIc7E8suX8FY8gQvwhdVRcc7HhzxqHQKSLMpowKAPgSa2DfielSjvejrWppaqSsIcXH7/s1600-h/100_1241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Xtqw2L4qe_qnZrEr6ieW8ejSyszhUELK2DNKvLwI7UXALoh19sEo1W0UjPumr6aJvLjyD9YXAIc7E8suX8FY8gQvwhdVRcc7HhzxqHQKSLMpowKAPgSa2DfielSjvejrWppaqSsIcXH7/s320/100_1241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908893307198002" border="0" /></a>great memories. Some of the family is eating Famous Dave's tonight in memory of him. Kelly says's "Daddy's cookin' tonight". In Mexico they have a holiday called Dia De Los Muertos, Day of the Dead. It is a day in which the Mexican people celebrate those who have left our world and moved on to better things. The tradition is is that they build alters with pictures and flowers and fill a table full of things that the person used to love. I often think about this tradition when I think of Mikey and what I would like to put on his alter. First, I would put a picture of his family. One of him with each person that was special to him. Then I would put a picture of our whole family, that is if we have one with allllll of us in it. Pictures of the hockey group the gp'ers the cabin group, long time friends and new. I would put picture of him and Lovey in all of the beautiful homes they've built and pictures from all of the places they have been. This is going to have to be a very large table. I would place two neon colored GP hats, an orange one for my mom and a green one for him to signify all that they worked together to build. What a team. I'd place flowers. He always gave my mom flowers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-oNfLzCfPhyokU3HTq4B-cwqXXuojPORz0V3XzyGJIdP1T2X2RR867XpYKFbQNixVbpRvooP3c_hfmhaobMsAZjWzE-cGhvnZtgRkbXBsy_M_K6huOYCVk1rCWhv0hKbUz7kQbA7DUlw/s1600-h/_DSC0020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-oNfLzCfPhyokU3HTq4B-cwqXXuojPORz0V3XzyGJIdP1T2X2RR867XpYKFbQNixVbpRvooP3c_hfmhaobMsAZjWzE-cGhvnZtgRkbXBsy_M_K6huOYCVk1rCWhv0hKbUz7kQbA7DUlw/s320/_DSC0020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192907020701456770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk8uc1pvMwcdF8kAcfojLy_jSo1LM_z9EmlbnGLj5pgM8k8EypP32NXNiR9u3N4FbJ6Y7fdsB5rn1ESasqPCoJcmKe5XqFVJ-zDKjtMKN_NzFy9muzpbFQG91Zqs4iAluoz6Ue6GX5Fkg/s1600-h/100_0799.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk8uc1pvMwcdF8kAcfojLy_jSo1LM_z9EmlbnGLj5pgM8k8EypP32NXNiR9u3N4FbJ6Y7fdsB5rn1ESasqPCoJcmKe5XqFVJ-zDKjtMKN_NzFy9muzpbFQG91Zqs4iAluoz6Ue6GX5Fkg/s320/100_0799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908296306743794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZQE5echzC8P74tsrEJoAZadmL8eQEQnrSYs9r4I_qlEiIbTvJNTDzMguVOvwi_vKeqY3CJk51nRI2OAPRLO3YAHkHYB4dZZUimAL9_d3rDbpOafFeMJMMufTCGMUgmtAjJ2oXNH2RN-m/s1600-h/100_1222.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZQE5echzC8P74tsrEJoAZadmL8eQEQnrSYs9r4I_qlEiIbTvJNTDzMguVOvwi_vKeqY3CJk51nRI2OAPRLO3YAHkHYB4dZZUimAL9_d3rDbpOafFeMJMMufTCGMUgmtAjJ2oXNH2RN-m/s320/100_1222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908884717263394" border="0" /></a>On the altar would be a black fine tooth comb and that gel from Divot Dicks. His hair was always so perfect. Keys to the boat. Keys to the golf cart. Dirty golf balls to clean. His skates, a hockey puck and reservations for everyone who knew him to a suite for the Wild Game. Water ski's. A sample of his writing just because his penmanship was so beautiful and anything with his signature on it was golden. A book of memories from all of his friends. Stories from all of his years. A feast fit for a king, our king. Famous Dave's of course, Gramma's chocolate cake, Blueberries, Prosecco and Grappa. I'd make salsa just to hear him say once again, "oh honey, thanks so much, but ya know I really don't like spicy". (yah I know but there's only tomatoes, mangos and garlic...it just looked spicy)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVbYaEEaSBVa8iIb7RI0WLWqvZff-fDLojnOX6bY9hfx4nd6ApWqRgDTUO_8Lw6Xw6UT5W9ThCobFOuiqPaCck3HglkssOwukwiCjGTFrUKkyoYAdS91LvhdUB8wd2Z3vGnYFtUlc4boSL/s1600-h/100_1185.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVbYaEEaSBVa8iIb7RI0WLWqvZff-fDLojnOX6bY9hfx4nd6ApWqRgDTUO_8Lw6Xw6UT5W9ThCobFOuiqPaCck3HglkssOwukwiCjGTFrUKkyoYAdS91LvhdUB8wd2Z3vGnYFtUlc4boSL/s320/100_1185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908923371969106" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluE8FntSWF3Ugsx4pzIaNW61a8mPt9RB_zfteLAHLuaieQeOkxf_As7gw6Nx1YZWledhV_f8TIApzQ4sXd7ngvW5xapTzJ2GGy9-UWHVZxyIrKqbMmfJkRi5S26H_i8oo2tcWS21NXY8b/s1600-h/100_0766.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluE8FntSWF3Ugsx4pzIaNW61a8mPt9RB_zfteLAHLuaieQeOkxf_As7gw6Nx1YZWledhV_f8TIApzQ4sXd7ngvW5xapTzJ2GGy9-UWHVZxyIrKqbMmfJkRi5S26H_i8oo2tcWS21NXY8b/s320/100_0766.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908266241972690" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1FMPg66vzdIqRkA-pBcxPVA_Iy_Sj3uNo8IH_EK04EUJDSHX8nBnr2fFYlihJePJpKbHyFVsjwl3iP3iRw04oA2oFfBpbvFe7VXZFVN3oFzceLUbabmPPDXBu45shjUIFTwckMTTU3i2/s1600-h/100_0732.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1FMPg66vzdIqRkA-pBcxPVA_Iy_Sj3uNo8IH_EK04EUJDSHX8nBnr2fFYlihJePJpKbHyFVsjwl3iP3iRw04oA2oFfBpbvFe7VXZFVN3oFzceLUbabmPPDXBu45shjUIFTwckMTTU3i2/s320/100_0732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908287716809186" border="0" /></a>And somethings you just cannot recreate but remain etched in your memory. His laugh. A victory lap around the tennis court. The way he called out to his "Pooper!!!!" and the way she'd call back "Papa!!!" How when he spoke everyone wanted to listen. And how when you spoke he always gave you his attention. His light spirit and one of a kind humor. The way he made everyone feel comfortable and important. That he would make fun of me when I put my lipstick on at the table by exaggeratedly licking his lips. His attention to detail and high expectations for us all. He knew we could all be somebody.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiXoLOkurcChe-dR8nl3t0xImJ-57WXrChPVCQNfZTasPadHFqmeoc2SyDfOlbj1inFstuuPC9P4GKo56Otmgs1tbyYPzSJtuPjj9Ww-EaWiI-Sfgd4ghMZcpofWSWJQ31F54wPcnGoHa/s1600-h/_DSC0042.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiXoLOkurcChe-dR8nl3t0xImJ-57WXrChPVCQNfZTasPadHFqmeoc2SyDfOlbj1inFstuuPC9P4GKo56Otmgs1tbyYPzSJtuPjj9Ww-EaWiI-Sfgd4ghMZcpofWSWJQ31F54wPcnGoHa/s320/_DSC0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192907037881325970" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY59_JeSGzddZAu0DgoQBkqEsRaO4Dt8t1NxFG1h0jRQug1ek8PuFVV1dD4u6e2l-q1w9G5xNS4zj8n6LMyctVTzG_EdnIFE4TdzZI2deuqtUUhdUHXsY8K0B5AaabvcuEAdXJ9F39xOV/s1600-h/100_0723.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY59_JeSGzddZAu0DgoQBkqEsRaO4Dt8t1NxFG1h0jRQug1ek8PuFVV1dD4u6e2l-q1w9G5xNS4zj8n6LMyctVTzG_EdnIFE4TdzZI2deuqtUUhdUHXsY8K0B5AaabvcuEAdXJ9F39xOV/s320/100_0723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192907080830998978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKh6UKqVHwrYDo7nRAxuXTVOej2J8ZoAIg6EXWeiA-9QUu_wCpZANVlUfPw90mSBgJMJeDHVNBS1FEgY7TR8d1nUkqAjoMPSm-iZSiJk4M8NNr0LlkhUJ-lX38tRBz9SlkwEwW7zrX8lbd/s1600-h/100_1033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKh6UKqVHwrYDo7nRAxuXTVOej2J8ZoAIg6EXWeiA-9QUu_wCpZANVlUfPw90mSBgJMJeDHVNBS1FEgY7TR8d1nUkqAjoMPSm-iZSiJk4M8NNr0LlkhUJ-lX38tRBz9SlkwEwW7zrX8lbd/s320/100_1033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908317781580306" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihF41uARO8e2CifgVZmagvgE1LdreXQ7nHPskuaRSupTUrmG6zAN2zEA5r-p2c9irbVuAU0Vv0X1ZsItqQCIIZ97EjbpaOrF_nwu9pUJeIdOopdRFJYHixMlzYlPJ_bp-nVZIj8BOmta2v/s1600-h/100_1001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihF41uARO8e2CifgVZmagvgE1LdreXQ7nHPskuaRSupTUrmG6zAN2zEA5r-p2c9irbVuAU0Vv0X1ZsItqQCIIZ97EjbpaOrF_nwu9pUJeIdOopdRFJYHixMlzYlPJ_bp-nVZIj8BOmta2v/s320/100_1001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908309191645698" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigckAyLLv9R7_f14q6VjynTISRvR3_0eKG5orr6JjMt6smVsDuTBj0kT9jkuQwtlOeCU-YG0BSr3cxFJ_wNOk5rpCxlayK9YhOuRMuPB81vzFaCuvChxNoEZ3hJTRLxQKCweBMzc92SyB7/s1600-h/100_0342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigckAyLLv9R7_f14q6VjynTISRvR3_0eKG5orr6JjMt6smVsDuTBj0kT9jkuQwtlOeCU-YG0BSr3cxFJ_wNOk5rpCxlayK9YhOuRMuPB81vzFaCuvChxNoEZ3hJTRLxQKCweBMzc92SyB7/s320/100_0342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192907076536031666" border="0" /></a>I don't know if they build table a large enough to place all of my memories. But I bet where he is now he is surrounded by all the memories, prayers, and is able to do all of those things he so loved to do.<br /><br />Happy Birthday Mikey! We love you.<br /><br />I might just keep adding memories. If there is any memories you'd like to add to the table or foods to add to his feast feel free to leave them in the comments. We'd love to hear more.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here is a quote I got from Renee - "when you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for which has been your delight."- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet..Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-69105583183098578452008-04-23T12:24:00.000-07:002008-04-23T21:41:27.275-07:00Look at me! I'm a SCUBA diver!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLf30zTrEmt8fnh0lKtGS4gXzaDGf8xoH-GMdLmss_iqgUhYCsEqgw7LzlBYxlTnGjOS4zJ8gw0L5HNeP7q3p-FupkpUkPRCRH7YvZmOoS89ziZwYfmkmpP9WkzClkRiI10IrlET7l5dR/s1600-h/P3049922.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLf30zTrEmt8fnh0lKtGS4gXzaDGf8xoH-GMdLmss_iqgUhYCsEqgw7LzlBYxlTnGjOS4zJ8gw0L5HNeP7q3p-FupkpUkPRCRH7YvZmOoS89ziZwYfmkmpP9WkzClkRiI10IrlET7l5dR/s320/P3049922.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192567520716576866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />On a sunny day, ripe for productivity, I've chosen to take in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">serenity</span> of my back porch while Ophelia attempts to nap. Mostly she's just chatting to her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">GiGi</span> but she's happy and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">that's</span> fine with me. Instead of productively writing emails, or productively doing yard work I've decided to present a product of the he<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjCt3ytw-ob4ZqppJHEqwTg0ofAZ_vzTK_64KhD2B8NmimoZWfWGVtmD1Bz4NyAEPuUFFQaY2ZzCz6ievXn1Zgi7kNpMyUW5jlfcXqgrRDxTmL9OJFn59VGZXuSt4VbRpkFkrQjHlxZq7/s1600-h/P3180031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjCt3ytw-ob4ZqppJHEqwTg0ofAZ_vzTK_64KhD2B8NmimoZWfWGVtmD1Bz4NyAEPuUFFQaY2ZzCz6ievXn1Zgi7kNpMyUW5jlfcXqgrRDxTmL9OJFn59VGZXuSt4VbRpkFkrQjHlxZq7/s320/P3180031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192573284562688306" border="0" /></a>art, another entry into my blog. Plus my friend Karen said that I was getting lax in my postings. She accused me of running out of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Cabo</span> stories and not finding anything exciting to write about i<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkycP9Ju_pWZQJxZbpIYHqQ-dqeyA-yjDpCTu9wA5Y5mI7zRXtybcKDwHVCiT7RHKMTQmIP9pLE27T7X-q84eCtZ6XPrgkESX9V_Kjhf5gz19Sh2YgOwU7Xb7Z3Di6FZibnVcx4z1bR7f/s1600-h/P3180012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkycP9Ju_pWZQJxZbpIYHqQ-dqeyA-yjDpCTu9wA5Y5mI7zRXtybcKDwHVCiT7RHKMTQmIP9pLE27T7X-q84eCtZ6XPrgkESX9V_Kjhf5gz19Sh2YgOwU7Xb7Z3Di6FZibnVcx4z1bR7f/s320/P3180012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192570475654076610" border="0" /></a>n Minnesota. Not true! I have not run out of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Cabo</span> stories. As for Minnesota stories...well...things are getting better and I'm sure stories will be being made now that the sun is shining and the breeze blows warmer. But I think we all realize I've got one foot out the door, and plus the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Cabo</span> stories have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">wayyyyy</span> better pictures.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dvvifPlRkEwQEm4TPbGu__minninAYVybnlmPOEvmCiByvYhOzPs4eqftu5vgPRSv_kCtgDjFDEclHNSMGmG9DyONfnHbcHDJZc5iDAEiyCux0MWvYKY2iPBCz_Qik90JDu4v9mPcrUY/s1600-h/P3180003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dvvifPlRkEwQEm4TPbGu__minninAYVybnlmPOEvmCiByvYhOzPs4eqftu5vgPRSv_kCtgDjFDEclHNSMGmG9DyONfnHbcHDJZc5iDAEiyCux0MWvYKY2iPBCz_Qik90JDu4v9mPcrUY/s320/P3180003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192567537896446082" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So here we go on to my SCUBA certification experience. I think I am just going to keep this somewhat short as Ophelia does not seem to want to sleep. I might be cut short. If you've been paying attention. I first began my SCUBA lesson's out at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cabo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Pulmo</span> with my instructor Grant and though my time in there was beyond all expectations. My SCUBA action was a little less exhilarating and a <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5tyPSeodrJylUh7nmT3X24BDAUU0jQ5FOTghYzjZ4r89yU1nJwm0zmN7e_hAOEzuuJ-lWP4zq44OE_cil4Sf4QwCPDG6-ajE8ye-qavwslv3np0GVvRKwbhc9wcSY3VNv5CZsn70ncSdW/s1600-h/P3180004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5tyPSeodrJylUh7nmT3X24BDAUU0jQ5FOTghYzjZ4r89yU1nJwm0zmN7e_hAOEzuuJ-lWP4zq44OE_cil4Sf4QwCPDG6-ajE8ye-qavwslv3np0GVvRKwbhc9wcSY3VNv5CZsn70ncSdW/s320/P3180004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192567559371282578" border="0" /></a>little more salt water scrub nasal wash. Not bad but not awesome. I probably needed a good sinus clearing. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_w8qrNiw_xLdR2JSQstmZz1TxI91T0q8PN8GvfLn0QU8qLP6a-VEueFg3b4AQvQpMHRqh5g8N3fexlTZlB94s3Dx5dyGvDPnMRtRGBg-wGI9Ana8YiSyXF7gbWw7vnjLozgeYLzES6pJ/s1600-h/P3180017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_w8qrNiw_xLdR2JSQstmZz1TxI91T0q8PN8GvfLn0QU8qLP6a-VEueFg3b4AQvQpMHRqh5g8N3fexlTZlB94s3Dx5dyGvDPnMRtRGBg-wGI9Ana8YiSyXF7gbWw7vnjLozgeYLzES6pJ/s320/P3180017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192570488538978530" border="0" /></a>I must admit after so much skills testing I was really ready to see some fish but truly apprehensive about going under again to embark on my next nasal passage exodus. I dragged my feet a couple of times and came up with some possibly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">comparable</span> exciting adventure alternatives to doing my first open water dives. But finally in my last week I knew it was do or die time. I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">gettin</span>' back in. This time the dive shop is right in the belly of the beast. The beast being spring break 2008 at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Medano</span> Beach. Like seriously scary. Full of barely dressed, barely legal, boys and girls smoking mass amounts of cigarettes and downing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">baleena's</span> (40 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ouncers</span>) like its water, with naughty fake <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">tattoo's</span> plastered all over their bodies and taking their clothes off on stage. Nice huh. Don't you want to send your kids to Mexico for Spring Break? No don't worry they don't need a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">chaperon</span>. They'll be fine. Luckily Spring Break is pretty much confined to about 6 bars on the beach, the main road of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Cabo</span> and all of the resorts. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Ok</span> there is pretty much no escaping it. I choose to embrace it. Well usually. Not so much when you are standing in your wetsuit waiting for the rest of your boat members to get ready, looking like an old lady TOOL, suffering from a minor anxiety knowing a greater handful of this spring break crew will soon be riding jet ski's right over the top of where I am supposed to be looking at beautiful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">fish</span> under water. Not to mention the three cruise ships in the bay and the constant glass bottom boats to lovers beach. I keep asking Grant "Are you sure this is safe?" "Oh no." he tells me. Since he's been here he's seen three boats with divers in them capsize. Que??? Are you kidding me??? "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">That's</span> why I only go out with Manta" he <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">says's</span>, "they're the best". By this time I<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQXMswU25OBsYUiz-ro_xlp8L3JlXX0RXS-3-447-R-33hVS4yQWpoCUrTldryX0RVubun97RMwYG7WG1BvwW3tWaNX4RV5WYl1AQmX-Jz7p32kbddPFXsbRXaE3fTcfkzFYZcwRf13rl/s1600-h/P3180013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQXMswU25OBsYUiz-ro_xlp8L3JlXX0RXS-3-447-R-33hVS4yQWpoCUrTldryX0RVubun97RMwYG7WG1BvwW3tWaNX4RV5WYl1AQmX-Jz7p32kbddPFXsbRXaE3fTcfkzFYZcwRf13rl/s320/P3180013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192570484244011218" border="0" /></a> have full, total, utter and complete trust in Grant. I mean after all I haven't died yet, in fact I've been having lots of fun. If says Manta's the best then so be it. Lets go.<br /><br />Our first dive is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Neptune's</span> finger. If you've been on the glass bottom boat ride you drive right over a bunch of divers while your captain points out the rock that looks like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Baja</span> upside down. I was under there. Oops wait now I am looking at my handy dandy log book and it turns out our first dive was at the North Wall. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Hmmm</span> there is a space for comments in that little book. I'll have to start filling it in. With all of my vast diving experience all the trips are starting to run into each other. I just can't keep um strait. J/K dudes. Are you ready to hear about the part where I get to see a fish yet?? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Yippy</span>! I step off the boat just like you see in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Jacques</span> Cousteau footage all the gear and everything and go in for the first open water dive. And do you know what we saw??? Fish! <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Immediately</span> upon descent, and on the bottom was a little puffer fish checking out a shrimp. It was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">soooo</span> cute. He was like "Hey your new here, wanna be my friend" Grant tried to get a picture but all he got was the shrimp digging his head into the sand. Guess he didn't want to be friends.<br /><br />We saw some g<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7oix9yDaJuGdHdY42WzDy8rZtj_Cwd-7qOOa6HgWxcgBopBB-8FGV-GTCAvNU0SCIFuysGtK8C8GCvsXQxlgsjqOlFUDq7pvPIGJIQ_dGKSX8qOmy46XuRyBmZxQMEk1Fswg1Cml3UbY/s1600-h/P3180028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7oix9yDaJuGdHdY42WzDy8rZtj_Cwd-7qOOa6HgWxcgBopBB-8FGV-GTCAvNU0SCIFuysGtK8C8GCvsXQxlgsjqOlFUDq7pvPIGJIQ_dGKSX8qOmy46XuRyBmZxQMEk1Fswg1Cml3UbY/s320/P3180028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192573280267720994" border="0" /></a>oat fish and a parrot fish and then it was back to skills. Damned skills why can't I just clear my mask and not have it fill up again. And this time on my way down I got my first taste of "the squeeze".<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkIUANggXkP7naHa3MY3mklKNrTfWQBCOuB0bsB5TptKvSQw-7iLJGW8aQxA9odU38ndKTXyS951VhTerObKBqr-YFh6BcQ38d5aCiPomyrNrNV2Z-LGLpEssr3_kVxOvGwEfycHlHBOv/s1600-h/P3180024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkIUANggXkP7naHa3MY3mklKNrTfWQBCOuB0bsB5TptKvSQw-7iLJGW8aQxA9odU38ndKTXyS951VhTerObKBqr-YFh6BcQ38d5aCiPomyrNrNV2Z-LGLpEssr3_kVxOvGwEfycHlHBOv/s320/P3180024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192573267382819074" border="0" /></a> No it's not when mobsters try to intimidate your small business into giving them all of your money. Its when the pressure in you mask get so strong that it starts to suck out your eyeballs. You just fix it by blowing out your nose and letting some of the pressure out, but sometimes underwater <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">armatures</span> forget what they are supposed to do. I'm sure it looks pretty funny from the other perspective. I know so because Grant told me, "You looked pretty funny, like your eyeballs were about to pop out of your head." Nice instructor nice.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4zuc-dllgbl0oK_bxASHCQxxrIuh8Sm97JmURto0X6j4mJRDwkqOeuOi3Idulw_XQKZQvsleMbYxr9dYZtb6WbKc084XJxg4fadd2nwwxxc0bsMlB9LHL6kt5uU7BooELpHK2U6ajFzQ/s1600-h/P3180006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4zuc-dllgbl0oK_bxASHCQxxrIuh8Sm97JmURto0X6j4mJRDwkqOeuOi3Idulw_XQKZQvsleMbYxr9dYZtb6WbKc084XJxg4fadd2nwwxxc0bsMlB9LHL6kt5uU7BooELpHK2U6ajFzQ/s320/P3180006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192567567961217186" border="0" /></a><br />After not exactly mastering all of my skills and still taking in quite a bit of salt water we emerge once again to the surface. Feeling a bit worse for wear, I scramble myself onto the boat. I immediately get motion sick. I never get sea sick but I seriously think I'm going to puke. I'm feeling so sick, I sit <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">quietly</span> and don't even want to talk. I know! That just never happens. I tell Grant. He says "Well at least if you puke under water you'll see lots of fish, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">cuz</span> the swim over and eat it". <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Basically</span>, don't be a wussy and get in. Our next dive is at Pelican Rock and he promises, no more skills for the day just looking at fish...and maybe a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">buoyancy</span> practice...just a little.<br /><br />I burp a couple of times, it's weird to burp under water, but everything is weird under water. A couple of burps, I get acclimated and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">ooooooo</span> now we're <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">talkin</span>' fish. Freaking finally. Lots of fish. Moray eels, parrot fish, grouper, coral, sea urchins, chocolate chip starfish. Really awesome, gorgeous stuff. We spend the whole thirty nine minutes taking in all of the under water life. Now this is what diving is all about. I guess you've got to go through all of that stuff to get to the good <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZxG-kp0XPFdlk9tqFzGGcUCzz32OfYoWuBkWXl8nLD4zDx3MknCfNHJLo0O25lZ0HR85Hc7kRZ5A0QXNWW8JtlBA2HZ8r0KcBW6JI8E_HzM46L2KPv11YyqSMmPi5nOz8ANKACj18g0T/s1600-h/P3180020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZxG-kp0XPFdlk9tqFzGGcUCzz32OfYoWuBkWXl8nLD4zDx3MknCfNHJLo0O25lZ0HR85Hc7kRZ5A0QXNWW8JtlBA2HZ8r0KcBW6JI8E_HzM46L2KPv11YyqSMmPi5nOz8ANKACj18g0T/s320/P3180020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192570492833945842" border="0" /></a>stuff. I tell Grant when we exit the water that I am now <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">officially</span> hooked and totally ready to see what the next dive has in store. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Ahhhh</span> but wait. Just when you thought you were done. He's got something up his sleeve. MORE SKILLS! A 100 meter swim and a 10 minute safety float, all to be done at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Medano</span> Beach. "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Medano</span> Beach!", you say, "But isn't that where all the drunk, naked spring breakers are???" Yes indeed it is. I am to finish off my day with a 100 meter swim listening to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Akon</span>. And ya know what? I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">ok</span> with that. I love <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Akon</span> ( I know I can't help it)and swimming is sometimes boring, this was NOT boring. I was far enough away that I didn't see anything too disturbing. And who knows I maybe I'm making all of that stuff up in my head and it's all just good clean fun....Susannah (my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">niece</span>) still doesn't get to go though I'm sure she's planning her trip already.<br /><br />A couple of days later we get ready for the morning dive. This time I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">psyched</span>. We're diving with Sea Lions at Lands End. There is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">large</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMnq3CpekLDcMMgDtj7MwIPsVTlpRkMbqaaX1yEAekFE2Rbm_M9xSck4HPqedFsjexPzFK9Oyu3WN76yokrhzproq9NKZUR8JY0OTfodoDEZi5KM7yHWGtE_tdH3-pX1Zntl1aKUbfmwk/s1600-h/P3200053.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMnq3CpekLDcMMgDtj7MwIPsVTlpRkMbqaaX1yEAekFE2Rbm_M9xSck4HPqedFsjexPzFK9Oyu3WN76yokrhzproq9NKZUR8JY0OTfodoDEZi5KM7yHWGtE_tdH3-pX1Zntl1aKUbfmwk/s320/P3200053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192657788044237154" border="0" /></a> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">colony</span> of Sea Lions that have perched themselves upon a rock right about 10 feet in front of Lands End which makes a little passage way that the Sea Lions like to play in. We were going to swim through that passage way. I was primed and ready to go. But first, more skills. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">That's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">ok</span>, its compass, navigation stuff. I've done orienteering at camp. My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">buoyancy</span> stuff is fantastic, I got this. Yep, Nope. I kept setting my course too slowly then so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">concentrated</span> on trying to stay on course I'd kick myself right up to the surface. It was wreaking havoc on my ears and Grant said he only could go up and down<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9Wko-S6miQ7DIplRCcrNPhOIXeq0t8NRyRVG-M2hJeVBWScX0Y0_KLDifWNR77lYBHOTFFvIAlIqQhfhyphenhyphenevvyFfQyBQeE34hTXkS4rsBbUxnWg_voMt9z3VrIcf9hbvJiMyspPc_MDcL/s1600-h/P3180025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9Wko-S6miQ7DIplRCcrNPhOIXeq0t8NRyRVG-M2hJeVBWScX0Y0_KLDifWNR77lYBHOTFFvIAlIqQhfhyphenhyphenevvyFfQyBQeE34hTXkS4rsBbUxnWg_voMt9z3VrIcf9hbvJiMyspPc_MDcL/s320/P3180025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192573271677786386" border="0" /></a> one or two more times. We'd better put the compass away and attempt the passageway. How do people know where they are under water anyway. Without the compass I'd be completely lost. But I suck at the navigation so what am I to do? Looks like I better stick with the professionals for a while. We head towards the passage way. There the are S<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLtK2Vo0bIDpM9IsZLvsCFIgGyBnJCV77zkvGNVhBzGITNHPIuOFZc79PsH7JmNm998oIl4TUDmxOgoEZgs1wUYdw6Gf8ruTrQc_tDt_Oi3rlm2wh3EmwYvYVXqipyK6gqS_sc_FrsFOE/s1600-h/P3200042.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLtK2Vo0bIDpM9IsZLvsCFIgGyBnJCV77zkvGNVhBzGITNHPIuOFZc79PsH7JmNm998oIl4TUDmxOgoEZgs1wUYdw6Gf8ruTrQc_tDt_Oi3rlm2wh3EmwYvYVXqipyK6gqS_sc_FrsFOE/s320/P3200042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192573284562688322" border="0" /></a>ea Lions. Playing right above us. Grant took some awesome video but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">unfortunately</span> I couldn't transfer it here. Your just going to have to settle for pictures.<br /><br />On the other side of the passageway was a little shipwreck where we saw a large school of yellow jack. Just like the ones we saw while kayaking in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Cabo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Pulmo</span>. I wish I could catch one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Mmmmm</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">yummmy</span>... I kinda have to pee. We'd see these tiny strings, floating through the water, Grant explained in under water sign language that they were jelly fish. While we were practicing a remove your regulator skill (breathing apparatus) and find it again skill one stung him on the lip. I realize now that those are the little buggers that sometimes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLhWTFC7ZmuleTup6XHva7K0k_XTC2Ud-1BSr7HQfbpPAKGZnqo3C6lvRtsJ7ZdXf_ArRfWZ1trm8ON4D6w0mu9T7JN6Vn8pyGbirGvTL4cgbl10CizjcFWMl1BjfFocYMa_Rd7NJGVnG/s1600-h/P3200049.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLhWTFC7ZmuleTup6XHva7K0k_XTC2Ud-1BSr7HQfbpPAKGZnqo3C6lvRtsJ7ZdXf_ArRfWZ1trm8ON4D6w0mu9T7JN6Vn8pyGbirGvTL4cgbl10CizjcFWMl1BjfFocYMa_Rd7NJGVnG/s320/P3200049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192657770864367954" border="0" /></a> get you at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">Chileno</span>. I always thought they were chopped up stingy sea weed floating in the ocean, I knew to avoid it but I didn't realize it was tiny jelly's...man I really gotta pee. Around Lands End we go we saw some other stuff but man, I really gotta pee, I don't think I care about the other stuff. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Ok</span> concentrate. Try to pee. But isn't it kinda gross to pee in your wetsuit?? I guess I've heard of people doing it to stay warm but I'm not cold. Should I hold it? We still have a whole '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">nother</span> dive to go on. I don't think Jaime's (a different Jaime from the fishing Jaime) boat has a potty for me. I better try to go. But I have to swim, and pretend I care about fish. I can't concentrate. Shit I really gotta pee. Finally. Underwater for 53 minutes. I don't think I often go 53 minutes without peeing, what can I say I'm a well hydrated woman. I still<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguG3fMBrEOxMzzT9QpM6bi5sau8zzEM1CXC6q023vPGuhDk-CGKo6VkJVhZNQC0uVSix9r09EQbx3aI2LaqyNOIVS6E9DNmAU6aJADbGEC26dqYrNelpBcYO4K23ipIbYKqYKY8-tPvan/s1600-h/P3180011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguG3fMBrEOxMzzT9QpM6bi5sau8zzEM1CXC6q023vPGuhDk-CGKo6VkJVhZNQC0uVSix9r09EQbx3aI2LaqyNOIVS6E9DNmAU6aJADbGEC26dqYrNelpBcYO4K23ipIbYKqYKY8-tPvan/s320/P3180011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192570467064142002" border="0" /></a> haven't peed. We get to the boat. Grant gets out I daintily explain my situation, minimize it, hang on to the ladder of the boat rocking about in all waves from boat traffic and attempt to pee. I get stage fright. I've got two guys waiting for me, I'm in my wet suit that I'd really rather not pee in, and a ton of boat traffic. After 10 painfully long minutes (at least it felt like ten). I convinced myself I could ignore it and got back in the boat to get ready for the next dive. I could not ignore it! I couldn't even bend down to get my next tank. I was dying. I would do any thing to pee. What the hell is wrong with me??? Did being under water holding it break my bladder? Was I going to burst out the top before I could actually just urinate. Who has trouble peeing? Especially in water? Doesn't everybody pee in the water. Next time we're swimming in a lake together and you go through a warm spot don't look at me, apparently I can't pee under water. Grant can see the pain on my face. I'm not going anywhere till I get this done. We get to Neptune's Finger (for real this time) the water is crazy, boats everywhere, and I've got two guys waiting, waiting, waiting. I try again. Its not working. I'm starting to panic. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Ok</span> Anni. Find your Zen spot. Zone it all out. I stepped out of mind and body and somewhere in there I peed...for a really long time. Who has to meditate to pee? Me. I have issues.<br /><br />We made it down for our grand finale dive. Our best dive yet by far. Lots of fish, we went down to 60 feet and I finally mastered all of my skills. At the surface, I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I was an official diver. I didn't get run over by a boat or drunken jet skier, I didn't puke underwater, though I did burp a few times. I peed. I saw fish, lots of them AND I got to swim w<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvWUqdbLnLlZMha5J5WAn77hgl1d70Me-JZBI4EqbgWUsBE7esJFGefWJuapRSJBVrtMU80m7-WePIGLCXXHenXASk92Ke5KSpjMWxYQfFVsZf5bMKVXYmPuQXBzKE6EQCn83u17oIKht/s1600-h/P3200055.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvWUqdbLnLlZMha5J5WAn77hgl1d70Me-JZBI4EqbgWUsBE7esJFGefWJuapRSJBVrtMU80m7-WePIGLCXXHenXASk92Ke5KSpjMWxYQfFVsZf5bMKVXYmPuQXBzKE6EQCn83u17oIKht/s320/P3200055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192657796634171762" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">ith</span> Sea Lions. Yup an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">official</span> diver. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">That's</span> me. I can't wait to get back out/under there.<br /><br />I actually went to Under Water World at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">MOA</span> with Ophelia and even though we saw lots of fish and a whole ton of sharks, somehow it just wasn't the same. See there's my Minnesota story. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">Soooo</span> not as good as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">Cabo</span> ones. I've almost got them out of my system but if your lucky there are still a few left. And I'm going back to make more so get ready!Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-18192146739775726542008-04-01T21:20:00.001-07:002008-04-08T11:46:28.716-07:00First Week of School<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDkvCojY0MMzDUsHpTHWBjJXzwjsE_Ksgi8-Mx5f_3SnHRqgVoeFfdc-2l9K1ENR_WFDnDq5YPLSBHDBDGpnljlobF_vSR7O9D6GdIBCiDW8Q0OHgjIEnaYia6MNWClNUwLfVdFKpWXLb/s1600-h/IMG_0594.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDkvCojY0MMzDUsHpTHWBjJXzwjsE_Ksgi8-Mx5f_3SnHRqgVoeFfdc-2l9K1ENR_WFDnDq5YPLSBHDBDGpnljlobF_vSR7O9D6GdIBCiDW8Q0OHgjIEnaYia6MNWClNUwLfVdFKpWXLb/s320/IMG_0594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185847786817754514" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />A few really great things have happened since we've been home. The first to be mentioned is that Ophelia started school on Tuesday. She is going Tues, Wed, Thurs. in the am! I swear first day of school is better than Christmas! It certainly looked like Christmas. The day before it snowed so thick I thought they might cancel. Who has their first day of school canceled because of a snow day? Only those who start in the middle of the year, like us. We are starting slowly to get her acclimated. But, I can't wait till she goes every day, better than Christmas, it'll be like Hanukkah. A little gift every day. Her first day she did great. She wasn't afraid and played with the kids. I tried to scan her report sheet for the day but it didn't work. I was trying to be a big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">braggy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">braggy</span> mom. Basically it said that Ophelia was as happy as if she'd been going to school there since fall. She sang and danced with Sylvia the music teacher who plays the guitar. She played on the swing and slides with a little boy. She totally likes to play with boys over girls. I think its because of her favorite person on the planet (aside from me) her cousin Matt. Of course. When I ask her what she did at school that day, she tells me what she had for snack. Like mother like daughter. First things first right? The next days were a bit more of a challenge. When she realized that she HAD to go to school she was a little less excited. Wednesday she clutched to me when I tried to drop her off and threw a wholly fit. This lovely child of mine is capable of the most fantastic dramatic effects. I knew she would be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span> but it made leaving just a tad less blissful. I went and worked out at the gym (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yay</span>!!!) and when I came to pick her up she was also at the little school gym <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">wrastling</span> (yes I did mean to spell it that way. Wrestling is a sport <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">wrastling</span> is just messing around) with all the b<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUD4Yfbiap7fsElO3zoirdEAqFE_qSwTuSXWI9nv6ux88HK7aqJX8iwTN17bTqm-M8EHiD3EiDXY5Scmd-w9WS4L2pNUOEYI17kTgL99UUjyP2ThLRq2H_YLSapWsUFNLCVxPu8OabbuPt/s1600-h/IMG_0598.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUD4Yfbiap7fsElO3zoirdEAqFE_qSwTuSXWI9nv6ux88HK7aqJX8iwTN17bTqm-M8EHiD3EiDXY5Scmd-w9WS4L2pNUOEYI17kTgL99UUjyP2ThLRq2H_YLSapWsUFNLCVxPu8OabbuPt/s320/IMG_0598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185847791112721826" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">oys</span> and was running around with two giant blow up footballs. There is no way I could be convinced that her school experience was anything less than AWESOME! But the next morning you would never know it. Immediately upon awakening, when I tried to get her from her crib, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes she pulled the "screaming wet noodle" trick. In this little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">diddy</span> she throws up her arms and and the rest of her body goes limp all while somehow screaming in your face. I think that homeland security should look into this as a possible first line of defense. Only the true love of your child would allow you to pass through its barriers in a calm and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">strategic</span> manner. All of the rest would go running for...dear God make that horrendous noise stop. There is however, a light at the end of my tunnel. If we can get through breakfast and into the car, which we barely could, try putting a winter jacket and boots on a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">fitfully</span> strong piece of high pitched <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">vermicelli</span>. There will be a teacher, dawning her superhero cape and invisible <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">force field</span> armed with crackers and processed cheese awaiting my little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">villainous</span> fake hater of school. They tell me when I leave that I can call as often as I'd like. I'm confused. Why would I want to do that? I guess some mothers cry when they drop their children off at sch<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyD7s_o6jSLE2MisumRUAccdHghllXhGklVZEFcR4xgZh6Hr9iEixuzJ_Zf7PPVmG4z1De0yhOvI1NJOhrPSNkSYZ9UVY44SaUSc0FOTjZZwbaxswuwxw-psJr4J4G-Z2GGmu0sP0TQYL/s1600-h/IMG_0599.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyD7s_o6jSLE2MisumRUAccdHghllXhGklVZEFcR4xgZh6Hr9iEixuzJ_Zf7PPVmG4z1De0yhOvI1NJOhrPSNkSYZ9UVY44SaUSc0FOTjZZwbaxswuwxw-psJr4J4G-Z2GGmu0sP0TQYL/s320/IMG_0599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185847799702656434" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ool</span> for the first time. If I did they were tears of joy quickly erased over an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">uninterrupted</span> cup of coffee with my mother. When I arrive to pick Ophelia up 2 hours and 50 minutes later she hardly even notices me. I have to call out her name three times before she even looks up. They tell me that she cried for a whole minute before she stopped. Didn't shed a true tear and played with the best of them for the rest of the day. When I asked her what she did at school today she told me she ate pretzel crackers. No mention of improving homeland security or turning to the dark side as I had anticipated. Just your average day of pretzels and play.<br /><br />The other great thing that I almost forgot to mention is that Ophelia's new favorite song is Look Alive by Visqueen. She makes me play it over and over again in the car. I can't complain it's one of my fave songs too. Don't know who that is??? Hmmm does that make my kid cooler than you??? Totally.<br /><br />When I said a few great things. I'm in the active practice of trying to be positive. It's still crappy outside and I haven't seen the sun since I've been here. So until that sun decides to shine, it's still just a few things. Better than none aye?! Don't forget my kid's most likely cooler than you!!!! She's my punk rock girl.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-54199949998850799112008-04-01T13:53:00.000-07:002008-04-01T21:20:02.279-07:00Baby Balleanas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBR2YYkW2sqkT-2MnVNb94kJkie_8NplowdkfFkVGI4q2eOqM7MHuaYKPUDvILXWz0ouoEssY6_h7eB-uQpajFod8gidOaVgK6sb-bwpyWzFTIyLhRVtvfPG_JWtpeQ8jensYBo3DQddGv/s1600-h/IMG_0168.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBR2YYkW2sqkT-2MnVNb94kJkie_8NplowdkfFkVGI4q2eOqM7MHuaYKPUDvILXWz0ouoEssY6_h7eB-uQpajFod8gidOaVgK6sb-bwpyWzFTIyLhRVtvfPG_JWtpeQ8jensYBo3DQddGv/s320/IMG_0168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184400412903773554" border="0" /></a>Ok everyone. You have to bear with me here. This was probably one of the things that my mom and I most looked forward to when we were planning our trip to Cabo. However, it took me so long to get this blog up and running that the stories are all over the place and this was a REALLY long time ago. Like over a month. My brain does not always retain details for very long so unfortunately this may be more pictures less story. However, if you are short on time and are one of those who doesn't need to read the story, that is great. But just DO NOT stop short of checking out this whole post because at the end is my (as in I took it) National Geographic video of a whale who swam right under our boat. He us smiling for the camera. It is amazing footage. I cannot believe I was able to catch such live action footage. Check it out. For those of you who like the story. I will do the best I can.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKBkkqFjMtq1b3KozizHbd3RcZDnfg3N3rVYX5twYQ2NF5cqJn269AP6aalL7eRM653QQJ-31WkG9Y8X0EmQk9pjhLMNvSfB84COqmCWlTCCVLfYnU4noBNsPEmemQ50vZy7151yUs0aD/s1600-h/IMG_0178.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKBkkqFjMtq1b3KozizHbd3RcZDnfg3N3rVYX5twYQ2NF5cqJn269AP6aalL7eRM653QQJ-31WkG9Y8X0EmQk9pjhLMNvSfB84COqmCWlTCCVLfYnU4noBNsPEmemQ50vZy7151yUs0aD/s320/IMG_0178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184397930412676274" border="0" /></a>So a few years back. My mom and I and our good friend Betty and her son Beto decided to take a flight up to Magdalina Bay to see the Baby whales. We really did not know what to expect but I had read a book about the bays up the Baja where Grey Whales have their babies and heard it was amazing. My mom ever the Cabo adventurer had also heard about them and hooked us all up with a 1.5 hour plane <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyx_DH6J-ybY5y_S1uJi0zUNHaZaXxHsl1RFhSNWqcgwXfLeoXws_dtAxN_UoPlv3w8GT33osRY3xoh7vd_SPJta5_5s0rEFuClhIqvWOu1YeNMJLhW4whXBSJC2vkKaLhy2IbMZao3np/s1600-h/IMG_0175.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyx_DH6J-ybY5y_S1uJi0zUNHaZaXxHsl1RFhSNWqcgwXfLeoXws_dtAxN_UoPlv3w8GT33osRY3xoh7vd_SPJta5_5s0rEFuClhIqvWOu1YeNMJLhW4whXBSJC2vkKaLhy2IbMZao3np/s320/IMG_0175.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184397921822741666" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0nSMjUgu0_s8MsaMRC-jhnSQPk2xBfHKixfL_dcWLOrtvtPl5I-GTuCt9ZW8CPVaQ6UJ5HIVkVoV4T3Dsc_XR92eay8AjWeEjCyGFg9D1pg2y3YhGyfPMw55yHVvpgHsRZOv7KplpAA89/s1600-h/IMG_2189.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0nSMjUgu0_s8MsaMRC-jhnSQPk2xBfHKixfL_dcWLOrtvtPl5I-GTuCt9ZW8CPVaQ6UJ5HIVkVoV4T3Dsc_XR92eay8AjWeEjCyGFg9D1pg2y3YhGyfPMw55yHVvpgHsRZOv7KplpAA89/s320/IMG_2189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184398441513784610" border="0" /></a>(teeny tiny plan) ride and a tour to Bahia Magdalina (Bay). We were so blown away by our experience seeing and touching the whales that we decided to go back this year. My mom invited her good friend Kris...who if you asked me totally got the most adventurous week. She came kayaking in Cabo Pulmo with my mom and I, got to go see the Whales, and went on a Todos Santos historical house tour with my mom. She got lots of adventuring in. By the time Kris came, my mom and I had come out of our relaxing shells and were ready to see what the Baja had to offer. Betty and her boyfriend Clemente were on vacation that whole week and decided to drive up to Bahia Magdalina and meet us there so we could all share a panga tour out to the baby whales together. A few years ago when we went it was amazing. We got to see and touch a baby whale. Then we took the panga boat further out into the bay and just sat amongst about a hundred baby Grey Whales and their mommas. There were so many it was eery. I definately did not feel like we humans were in charge and if we weren't respectful we'd be in the drink with some angry momma whales and protecting their babies. So with extreme respect for our situation we sat amongst baby whales learning to swim, breach, eat and play. This time however, we got a much more intimate experience with one baby and his mom. We knew it was a he because he had only two slits on his underside instead of four. We learned this from our guide. Who I joked kind of reminded me of a dad. Not my dad, but just like he could have been a sort or surly father, who you knew would take care of you but just wasn't going to be that happy about it, but knew a whole lot and you should listen to him cuz if you didn't...Anyway we listened to him and he was very knowledgable. He told us about the difference between the boy and the girl whales and about the birthing of babies and how the milk their calves. He told us that sometimes Dolphins steal the milk from the whale. You'll have to ask my mom how it works. She got a very detailed explaination from our guide that cannot be explained on paper. I just tried and could not get it right. Suffice it to say, I'm really glad my mom had her life vest on for the demonstration. Anyway what he had to say was interesting bu<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdMGIPS7Y5bpBVsPCtn3MDJYytkPzC4ra5odAADq2p5yHKTSVBs5FiP32BtbgPiEsWUNP-epxVJ-vaGN3FnEQV4rwk4upQTvBeGwxg2g9PdkUx0hVOC5JVCu-e5luGNwQMIkBpEgHI0Oh/s1600-h/IMG_0203.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdMGIPS7Y5bpBVsPCtn3MDJYytkPzC4ra5odAADq2p5yHKTSVBs5FiP32BtbgPiEsWUNP-epxVJ-vaGN3FnEQV4rwk4upQTvBeGwxg2g9PdkUx0hVOC5JVCu-e5luGNwQMIkBpEgHI0Oh/s320/IMG_0203.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184397951887512786" border="0" /></a>t really it didn't matter. We were there to see whales. We almost immediately met a mom and her baby and we got to pet them, touch the little baby's face. See his whiskers, experience there affectionate blow hole blow in your face. It kind of feels like he accedentally sneezed on you, like a baby. It's cute but still kind of messy. But not like a baby because instead of a little spray you've got about a half a gallon of sea water on your face. But it's ok because you were that close to a baby whale and it must mean he loves you. While we were out we also did see the National Geographic boat which was VERY cool. I just felt like like we were doing something elite and special. I love feeling elite and special (as most of you well know). About two hours into the tour the little boy whale and his momma seemed to tire of us so we decided to head out further into the bay. I was hoping to sit amongst the hoards of whales like last time. But, before we could get out there we came up on a little girl whale and her mom. Ok class how do we tell the boys from the girls? Thaaats right. Four slits. I have to lay as a disclaimor. I never saw a slit. Never two and never four but I was taking the guides<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUPdbPkhYOsTI3J4T4jKVnFxBirTk4iT6A1XTtVONcP12RXakNX1swCM3vnEfe1oU2CmWv2G-cMZryiJpf5w9xZvqoTd5Nb1lEzp3WY27JyvEQ7nFpj6QAJrxAHIsXn9gS1jqAgJ4PiDz/s1600-h/IMG_2179.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUPdbPkhYOsTI3J4T4jKVnFxBirTk4iT6A1XTtVONcP12RXakNX1swCM3vnEfe1oU2CmWv2G-cMZryiJpf5w9xZvqoTd5Nb1lEzp3WY27JyvEQ7nFpj6QAJrxAHIsXn9gS1jqAgJ4PiDz/s320/IMG_2179.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184398432923850002" border="0" /></a> word for it.<br />It was cool to see how different this pair of whales was compared to the male and his mom. You could tell they right away that their markings were different. Grey Whales often get barnacles and these weird lice that live on their skin. A lot of times they breach to smack the parasites off. That is one of the reasons the whales like to be pet by us humans, if you can you pull off the little suckers. Our guide pulled off one of the lice/mite thingys (yes that is the technical term, don't be a sassy ass) and it had made a skin calcification and inside lived like six lice/mite thingys. It looked like something straight out of "Star Trek the Wrath of Kahn". Don't make fun of me. I saw it at the Comet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSew7ROATq07PvTGKcmOyfHuFc-T-8YdG708YNCKM71tJr46L5C35r_MrEGzDWOeYJF2KI8nqhpIAN-dVCx9sIjlGo2szV3uuBM3D5PkoZZ3T1HsNTyQ67EFT7O-8hj8TkAsILVrwrNqXn/s1600-h/IMG_0218.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSew7ROATq07PvTGKcmOyfHuFc-T-8YdG708YNCKM71tJr46L5C35r_MrEGzDWOeYJF2KI8nqhpIAN-dVCx9sIjlGo2szV3uuBM3D5PkoZZ3T1HsNTyQ67EFT7O-8hj8TkAsILVrwrNqXn/s320/IMG_0218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184397964772414690" border="0" /></a> Theater in Cook when I was like 6. I was kind of traumatized but it was also kind of exciting because I got to sit next to the cabin neighbor boy who was about 8 years older than me that I had a super crush on. Anyways the lice/mite thingys were gross but sooooo fascinating. So those little critters make marks all over the whales and you could totally tell the difference between both sets of whales. From far away they all look the same but from close up they were easily identifiable. You could also tell immediately the different personalities. The male whale and his mom were much more laid back. The mom would let her son play but usually hung back and would only surface to let us know she was keeping her eye out. The female and her mom were like the Lohans of the sea. The baby girl was a total show stopper and wanted tons of attention from her fans...er...humans and the mom would make almost as much of a show and push her daughter to perform. I don't know if I could ever get sick of going up and seeing the baby balleanas especially after seeing their distinct personalities. Betty goes every year. Thats a tradition I could handle. In fact on our way back from the tour the boat took us past some gorgeous sand dune islands. Our guide let us get out (there's a picture of my mom getting out. Isn't that funny. Everybody looked like that but it's always funnier when it's your mom).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnjIld_Uquljk1kAdKqsuZDOmhi6yZUR2AlG4gI5g258MHh-n1VTdH6nnZJV8PpGvzrNDklGlAlQGeHkR4jMELTbILKDu2nzXQ8vs6k1AluW1laKc3KV0Z7J5U5MSKKfZTltXjrSswnby6/s1600-h/IMG_0221.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnjIld_Uquljk1kAdKqsuZDOmhi6yZUR2AlG4gI5g258MHh-n1VTdH6nnZJV8PpGvzrNDklGlAlQGeHkR4jMELTbILKDu2nzXQ8vs6k1AluW1laKc3KV0Z7J5U5MSKKfZTltXjrSswnby6/s320/IMG_0221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184398415743980786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKV50G9Ib7s6cN8uOaslioCo-sLtUu-me5jHK2zbtXsNX34E1KLRLihDtrlhtvsArYyjdoXFpzwFmwAznQPdmxorm8Q-l616PSPKbPVvAhqc-Tzxp4wpwI-NBhTRcUKVLV8TFMcLSufyj/s1600-h/IMG_0222.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKV50G9Ib7s6cN8uOaslioCo-sLtUu-me5jHK2zbtXsNX34E1KLRLihDtrlhtvsArYyjdoXFpzwFmwAznQPdmxorm8Q-l616PSPKbPVvAhqc-Tzxp4wpwI-NBhTRcUKVLV8TFMcLSufyj/s320/IMG_0222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184492690276128130" border="0" /></a>The sand was so soft and warm it felt like one of those Zen sand boxes that really stressed out office people keep in their office. Except way better because,<br />a) we weren't in an office<br />b )we weren't stressed out<br />c) it was real<br />The only draw back was that we didn't have a little rake and hamitite marble to make designs. But we had our toes. My mom said she thought the place had healing properties. I think I agree because once you stepped foot into that sand everybody scattered and needed some time alone. We could have stayed there all day in a sort of trace like healing state. My friend Phil needs to go there and shoot film. I think that I should go there and camp out for a couple of days and play with the whales in a kayak. I wonder if they let you do that. Hmmm.<br /><br />Don't forget to check out my amazing whale face footage. National Geographic eat your heart out!<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzcWU5SRYvs4Zu2mOkivwN6xuHPMim383AUwMHKBVFBqPvUEqNGMP4XNSUQuMhJJ_h-jO1BbdQL8WmT80EABw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-61543724330370461162008-03-29T06:27:00.001-07:002008-03-31T07:32:43.310-07:00Real life in MN<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcWd8ZLwvS2GUJw7Y6OAXTM_0EBW_bsJ3GLBuIMo3xNns3xvzt9cJ3M4UsxiRGBRtWd8FQ_gN99eHQlwZzFRQ0vCtVuLrFv-Pg5xhJAtzGvW_xoVOsDXVZDZVTVrqpp786MKXEZviL0-o/s1600-h/IMG_0590.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcWd8ZLwvS2GUJw7Y6OAXTM_0EBW_bsJ3GLBuIMo3xNns3xvzt9cJ3M4UsxiRGBRtWd8FQ_gN99eHQlwZzFRQ0vCtVuLrFv-Pg5xhJAtzGvW_xoVOsDXVZDZVTVrqpp786MKXEZviL0-o/s320/IMG_0590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183910447329612914" border="0" /></a>This first picture is for my Cabo buddies. Just to let them see a little taste of where I come from. I took this snowy little picture about 5 minutes ago and since them the ground is now entirely white and big flakes of snow keep falling. Brrrrr. Not nice. Ophelia and I feel the same way. Boots hats and mittens. No good. Moving on, because I think all my Minnesota cohorts are getting tired of my complaining. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb3A8Km7p4wN2qvQz33kgS-wkHiNvIlIq0nIACNmufNG9fM9ef9K6VrOkk_IRdoE-aaMkvIADxQWkzn7JGr6kwWugaztDEZcopml_cH-AzusKnz2D7TDsbO0e7fmkGGxpbgivHmwuQ50E/s1600-h/IMG_0555.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb3A8Km7p4wN2qvQz33kgS-wkHiNvIlIq0nIACNmufNG9fM9ef9K6VrOkk_IRdoE-aaMkvIADxQWkzn7JGr6kwWugaztDEZcopml_cH-AzusKnz2D7TDsbO0e7fmkGGxpbgivHmwuQ50E/s320/IMG_0555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183155263229957090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03J9mN6tuh3fd0tqazyn5OQvE_s2Qj4pVThzVlVgXiDOPg2Jv4fcO4u8WwayoV5npeVm6geS3QCLNU7iaa-0w5FqoNL9MKy6GLUsouAAk1rPc_jQGK0fSH4E_2xPaMYN4I3IYgzOaMzq7/s1600-h/IMG_0556.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03J9mN6tuh3fd0tqazyn5OQvE_s2Qj4pVThzVlVgXiDOPg2Jv4fcO4u8WwayoV5npeVm6geS3QCLNU7iaa-0w5FqoNL9MKy6GLUsouAAk1rPc_jQGK0fSH4E_2xPaMYN4I3IYgzOaMzq7/s320/IMG_0556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183158145153012818" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z3NKRBsclDwLYgtXWAVJRggeJe_daylutCJzYE1UYSSsC6W2z_V7fVayH-VX6vEiv5EyVZRotcKm-FFeTzlb5KfXy7En7W7JxJuDU_xnGY57dk3QvAzyJ93Kigmf4SIaA6CRxyF8gsIw/s1600-h/IMG_0565.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z3NKRBsclDwLYgtXWAVJRggeJe_daylutCJzYE1UYSSsC6W2z_V7fVayH-VX6vEiv5EyVZRotcKm-FFeTzlb5KfXy7En7W7JxJuDU_xnGY57dk3QvAzyJ93Kigmf4SIaA6CRxyF8gsIw/s320/IMG_0565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183155271819891698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiladDcuQA1qUSiT-VLv4Ocp8SUKZW13Tw_r0tLAnzq33A_2rRugwJanm2e3-L8ugKk_jlNPGUDFu5u-wEBHj-hhZH1_vx1wiKoIfia0xpjiehC8E3eE-xLbSHCZlnem2KXM_iaKYBYlgZe/s1600-h/IMG_0566.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiladDcuQA1qUSiT-VLv4Ocp8SUKZW13Tw_r0tLAnzq33A_2rRugwJanm2e3-L8ugKk_jlNPGUDFu5u-wEBHj-hhZH1_vx1wiKoIfia0xpjiehC8E3eE-xLbSHCZlnem2KXM_iaKYBYlgZe/s320/IMG_0566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183155276114859010" border="0" /></a>To brighten things up I have some pictures from Easter of a couple of cutie bunnies looking for Easter eggs. My cousin's hosted at their new house this year, which was great cuz it took a little pressure off of my mom. Their house worked perfectly and we all had a great time watching the girls look for easter eggs. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJSnhTiLJSrGIgMcdUl-Dbm7ohFIargXCec6-4RUWVorVQ2ke-zraMuuI1vwB-bL2i7hwqnPN73LGdjUjEP88_ma4aSU1ShSCYjAFTbicyJUPW-mR_O8bN0NffoeWlc_hcXRj0Zt4epzIC/s1600-h/IMG_0573.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJSnhTiLJSrGIgMcdUl-Dbm7ohFIargXCec6-4RUWVorVQ2ke-zraMuuI1vwB-bL2i7hwqnPN73LGdjUjEP88_ma4aSU1ShSCYjAFTbicyJUPW-mR_O8bN0NffoeWlc_hcXRj0Zt4epzIC/s320/IMG_0573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183155284704793634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0xM-dUbmKP2ic4zbEi6Nm7fwNbq9rOFddAJOuKyoeoA2vye7nvY0uSJKtgoNPXyJt-2JoD6reew3h2HvYVfvRZES688wGnfhVBgV0VgUUpadSLQsgWW_qMFAQnsjOVHeJjKaE2fwQ4N1/s1600-h/IMG_0589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0xM-dUbmKP2ic4zbEi6Nm7fwNbq9rOFddAJOuKyoeoA2vye7nvY0uSJKtgoNPXyJt-2JoD6reew3h2HvYVfvRZES688wGnfhVBgV0VgUUpadSLQsgWW_qMFAQnsjOVHeJjKaE2fwQ4N1/s320/IMG_0589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183910434444711010" border="0" /></a>A few other updates that are new for being home is that Ophelia is going to start school 3 mornings a week, starting this Tuesday. Yay for all of us! AND I bought her a potty. She's just getting used to it. I told her a smile while I took a picture and this is the face I got. Isn't that a riot! I'm totally saving this to show her boyfriends when she's 25 (because she doesn't get any boyfriends before that). Yah thats right I'm going to be the overprotective mother who enjoys humiliating their child. Ok we all know thats not true. I love her. I love everybody. Where's my sunshine? Read the blog previous to this one for the real good stuff.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-23311526217863554402008-03-28T12:06:00.001-07:002008-03-31T15:21:21.547-07:00Cabo Pulmo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIpah1cOli0uiBC8lpc5MsOTnrZU0Vy1VBYu0hP5XsbCtPaVBHoLmTv50tn1LCGP2gOJiUSIFEzjfX3gYazcvk18y9MqvpWD68wWGjdtvSSAbTeCxua594ii7kJplez8Fux0kRfJ-bu8T/s1600-h/P3059935.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIpah1cOli0uiBC8lpc5MsOTnrZU0Vy1VBYu0hP5XsbCtPaVBHoLmTv50tn1LCGP2gOJiUSIFEzjfX3gYazcvk18y9MqvpWD68wWGjdtvSSAbTeCxua594ii7kJplez8Fux0kRfJ-bu8T/s320/P3059935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184032527480034434" border="0" /></a><br />I'm back home in Minnesota now. But I started this blog and have had so many great experiences and pictures that I'm just going to keep telling stories. In fact this trip to Cabo has left me feeling so invigorated that I've started writing again. Its been very long time especially since I've had any thing good to write about. So right now I'm just been writing my whole cabo story. One of my goals while I was in Cabo was to get my SCUBA certification. I was quite leery of doing it however, not because I was afraid of being in the ocean, or getting claustrophobic or any of those things. I was afraid to be a student again. I was never a very good student but Grant my SCUBA instructor and good friend ensured me that it would be no class time and all study could be done in the sun. We decided to go to Cabo Pulmo for my confined water class. This class is usually done in a pool that is the benefit of a private class we didn't have to use a pool we could use a calm part of the ocean instead. When Grant and I first<br />met on a hiking trip we both talked about Cabo Pulmo. He'd just gotten back from there and it was one of my goals to get out there. Then he was also the guide on a Kayaking trip in Cabo Pulmo that I got my mom and her friend Kris to go on (I'm going backwards and I'm going to tell those stories at some point). It was at a fantastic fish taco lunch that we decided it might be a good place to start my classes since Mona is good friend was maybe going to join us. um... this story might get ki<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbW5Fa7jT1rkS1t54aXCl99HHqtCjSrqcXovjH842V-Yr7VmfU1wnaw5cqejjndIhWor7Y-nUNg_IOby1W3BWOqDN0Ak6iBwQXAxitHX-oV6PruNrCLE8nhyhyDiDZeRZ21Ic_6v_VOnJ/s1600-h/IMG_0267.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbW5Fa7jT1rkS1t54aXCl99HHqtCjSrqcXovjH842V-Yr7VmfU1wnaw5cqejjndIhWor7Y-nUNg_IOby1W3BWOqDN0Ak6iBwQXAxitHX-oV6PruNrCLE8nhyhyDiDZeRZ21Ic_6v_VOnJ/s320/IMG_0267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182871748143780706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUea5tCtklF3N1058cBPVqSKcE02EHvxVmtUccLio0G-l2Nw2ETR3fkOWdGMZCTGmEh_2MGfszm0W9Edp34drKOqsNeTkprCLkpwDYGRL266PyWsZKR25AdRx_5Jh9Wkj6cyE_lDVDmLP/s1600-h/P3049924.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUea5tCtklF3N1058cBPVqSKcE02EHvxVmtUccLio0G-l2Nw2ETR3fkOWdGMZCTGmEh_2MGfszm0W9Edp34drKOqsNeTkprCLkpwDYGRL266PyWsZKR25AdRx_5Jh9Wkj6cyE_lDVDmLP/s320/P3049924.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182874630066836386" border="0" /></a>nd of long, but stick with it. Its good.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I'm just going to start at the first SCUBA part of the story. After taking a few classes, drinking some coffee and putting my gear together a few times, it is late afternoon by the time we make it to the beach for our first confined water dive where we practice a whole bunch of skills. The water was so murky we didn't see one living thing. If Grant hadn't been holding on to me I think I would have lost him as well. We didn't see any fish but we found a shell. Yup one little yellow snail shell. I took it home with me and kept it in memory of the day in which I went SCUBA diving and saw no fish. Though I guess it's not all that uncommon. Most people's confined water dives are in a pool. Hence the word "confined", we were not confined but we were not seeing fish either. I was not there for fish I was just getting used to how its supposed to feel under water, mess around with the equipment and practice breathing under water. First dive was pretty easy. We only used half a tank of air and saved the rest for the next day. In one of the pictures coming up by the way is not of me at Cabo Pulmo but I just thought it would be cool if you could see me breathing under water. Neat. I have lots more pictures of cool underwater stuff but you'll have to stay tuned. After the dive we went back to Grants friends, Bob and Mona's place. Grant is super close with them they pretty much family. And they were cool enough to take this random SCUBA student in. When I first met them Grant wasn't even there. He'd gone on the ATV(ps. I loved the ATV, I need to live somewhere where you only need to get around by atv). to get the key to the beach gate. I was alone reading a Baja plant guide that I found inside, drinking their coffee and sitting on their porch. They were totally sweethearts and Mona gave me a bottle of fresh OJ. This lady is the sweetest and she's Finish so she's got a great accent. Makes you want to listen to her whenever she talks.<br /> By the time we actually<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qtq6Kzbe8JYetrT2kGrqxNpPbkjXKEWgM1vdO-a23-Ixx5JVjM0QQpIG_ICKDqI6nmCpKEpD6uIiILvAGHXWJ6PStPm-jAB_6DGvaMr_H_8_iCbfhIrOKIpTiW2i6zg2PD-dkdo-9ppi/s1600-h/P3180014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qtq6Kzbe8JYetrT2kGrqxNpPbkjXKEWgM1vdO-a23-Ixx5JVjM0QQpIG_ICKDqI6nmCpKEpD6uIiILvAGHXWJ6PStPm-jAB_6DGvaMr_H_8_iCbfhIrOKIpTiW2i6zg2PD-dkdo-9ppi/s320/P3180014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182874621476901778" border="0" /></a> made it back to their house it was dark. I was famished. Everything shuts down really early in Cabo Pulmo so luckily Mona made us a huge fruit salad and a veggie salad with three different kinds of Mexican cheese. We ate the heck outta them. Drank Pacifico Ballena's (big ones) and sat and talked to Bob and Mona till I wanted to pass out from exhaustion in my little plastic chair.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2IhxJHljHkWOH-JhrJyszd3z61acEZFYz5UItE2AMsqCduKvla1_LeuecP8WUVTocTgR3F7UyrnxnYy5h4F7ySl_6y0TMBHx_Ic6NqScbF5vDagD8p7Blu-vURO8V4l7uz8euwgO3c-8/s1600-h/IMG_0266.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2IhxJHljHkWOH-JhrJyszd3z61acEZFYz5UItE2AMsqCduKvla1_LeuecP8WUVTocTgR3F7UyrnxnYy5h4F7ySl_6y0TMBHx_Ic6NqScbF5vDagD8p7Blu-vURO8V4l7uz8euwgO3c-8/s320/IMG_0266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182871743848813394" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyAHeNpkbKdV0AGYf4ufj38sxOA7tJlXgEQsz4bXjwNkD_AKBhlIJNn_k8ohocNZGbuiYeAvNGy_AbBhg-diQZwHQm3UuvHj7qiGzqpjqmcURokkBAl5AEWUS8aQeUHyjeRmxopeCpkD6/s1600-h/IMG_0268.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyAHeNpkbKdV0AGYf4ufj38sxOA7tJlXgEQsz4bXjwNkD_AKBhlIJNn_k8ohocNZGbuiYeAvNGy_AbBhg-diQZwHQm3UuvHj7qiGzqpjqmcURokkBAl5AEWUS8aQeUHyjeRmxopeCpkD6/s320/IMG_0268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182871756733715314" border="0" /></a>For breakfast the next morning walked to Caballero's. Which incidentally used to be open at night but isn't anymore because they don't have a chef. Grant thinks I should take over. It would be an awesome opportunity but there is no school in Cabo Pulmo for O. So that just ain't going to work. Maybe some day. (I interject in this story to tell you about the scenic picture above. That is the beach of Cabo Pulmo at about 8 am.) So gorgeous it sucks you in and you never want to leave. Back to the story. After breakfast we got ready for our next confined water in unconfined water dive. We practice skills that usually involve me either accidentally flying to the surface or sucking in sickening amounts of sea water. That or we practice what I am supposed to do if I run out of air. Which Grant said is NEVER supposed to happen if you are paying attention. So I was. Checking my gages I let him know that I am really low. He tells me in underwater sign language that we should swim a bit more. Um....ok but I think I'm almost out of....shit I'm out of air! I make the sign for "holy fuck I'm out of air" and I snatch his alternate air source, we swim to the surface and all the time I'm thinking, "This guy has no idea what he's doing!! How could he let me out of air!!" We pop out of the surface establish buoyancy (he'd be so proud at how much I remember, well I guess it's only been about a week since my last dive...oh but it feels like so long ago...whah for me). I feel like I might puke let out a ginormous belch and feel so much better. All that sea water really gets to me. Oh and did I mention that I ran out of air...underwater!!! Apparently that was all in the plan. Just a little test I guess all a part of the process. He promised he wouldn't do it again.<br />Now that our tanks were officially empty we needed hop on my new favorite vehicle, wet suits still half way on, an set out to find more air to fill our tanks. A task<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuyCzaNXJi3n6PqT55poTFLXX4ewZMgFLBd6IW2r8_YwQggOzKa1mXPiaLEztQI7EJb6IEs6OK-GHyqfPz79uO27nIqibgRks0xYMKEsXaBkzb1KrbN7PXH3auop7GHT9q02sb2G9s12B/s1600-h/P3059933.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuyCzaNXJi3n6PqT55poTFLXX4ewZMgFLBd6IW2r8_YwQggOzKa1mXPiaLEztQI7EJb6IEs6OK-GHyqfPz79uO27nIqibgRks0xYMKEsXaBkzb1KrbN7PXH3auop7GHT9q02sb2G9s12B/s320/P3059933.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184032879667352722" border="0" /></a> that sounded pretty menial considering this was Cabo Pulmo home to the second largest live coral reef next to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. That is what people do here. They SCUBA. This is Mexico remember, and the thing that I love about it is EVERYTHING is an adventure. We stop into the big (BAD) dive shop because Pepe's (I think that's the name), the one Grant usually uses was out of air. The people at the big (BAD) dive shop refused to give us air. They said it was against company policy to fill tanks to independent divers. ERRRRR wait back up, what???? I'm sorry since when did anyone in Mexico follow policy? Even if on the rare occasion there is a policy no one ever follows it. ever. That is why we love Mexico. Viva Mexico. What was the b.s.? The girl was Spanish, maybe that was part of her problem. I don't know what Spain's policy is on policy but she sure didn't get Mexico's policy that policy doesn't fly in these parts. Lame but seriously, just another Mexican adventure.<br />So we ATV it over to the last little dive shop in town. Turns out their compressor is down. Of course it takes talking to three different guys to really find out whats going on. But we found out that Ricardo who was maybe going to take us out on a boat for our 2nd dive sometimes rents his tanks from the Big Bad Dive shop. And as luck would have it Ricardo just got in from a fishing trip. We go find Ricardo on the beach. Um...it sounds like we are driving all over town and we kind of are but keep in mind that town is 3 minutes long and right on the beach nothing is that big of a trek. We find Ricardo on the beach. We tell him our story. He puts in a call to the Big Dumb Dive shop. He gets a hold of the clueless Spanish girl who's going to give herself an ulcer by being such an air Nazi, and this time instead of refusing us air, she just hangs up on us. Ricardo understands our plea and agrees that this is so unCabo Pulmo of her but has his own problems. His truck just ran out of gas and he just syphoned enough out of his boat to get him to the gas station two towns from here but he might be able to help us when her gets back which would be two Mexican hours from then. Which actually means God knows when in real time. I really don't care all that much. I've swallowed enough sea water to sink a panga and was happy riding around on the ATV in the sunshine. We decided SCUBA- Pooba. We ain't gettin' any air. Lets go kayaking. (Oh this little house by the way is Bob and Mona's and in the front is the little ATV. Bob and Mona better watch out. If they find it missing they'll know where to look.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G29H2HzXVHKtHqS6E7F0gv2pqImcbh23x-ymoCx3vgRQLAwvGlF6qmS_puDxFpJqgE9NfqC3zfRpZdCnvfIWC4p_1CuqaxJ_txWwBXHq8KYuJO9_PpsoIHiiNroNvsf1cRjzX6dKUUEr/s1600-h/IMG_0264.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G29H2HzXVHKtHqS6E7F0gv2pqImcbh23x-ymoCx3vgRQLAwvGlF6qmS_puDxFpJqgE9NfqC3zfRpZdCnvfIWC4p_1CuqaxJ_txWwBXHq8KYuJO9_PpsoIHiiNroNvsf1cRjzX6dKUUEr/s320/IMG_0264.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182871735258878786" border="0" /></a>Earlier that day. We had seen manta rays jumping not to far off shore. We had kind of been hoping that Ricardo could take us out there for my first real open water experience. Obviously that was not happening. For one we had no air and two the boat had no gas because it had been syphoned into his truck. See isn't this fun??? We decided relying on others was not going to work for us today we would have to turn to our own muscle. Bob and Mona keep their Kayaks right down by the beach so we just got the right gear, regrouped a little and took a tandem out to the reef. Once we got out there we saw massive schools of Yellowtail. There were schools of at least 150 fish. At some points we were surrounded by three schools or more. It was amazing how close we could get to them before they would all simultaneously flinch away. It was cool but, as we sat over the reef and looked out we saw them again, jumping frantically, Manta's! They looked pretty far out but not so far that we couldn't get there. It was windy so it would be a challenge but I mean come on! Manta Rays you'd have to be nuts not to go! As we neared the grew bigger in size and number. Before all you could see on the horizon were tiny silvery triangles spraying out of the sea. I was not prepared for what I saw. I was so excited I thought my head was going to pop off my body. Seriously it was hurting I was so close to bursting. We were experiencing stuff that only National Geographic can capture. Manta's were flying out of the sea three feet, six feet, one foot, all right next to our kayak. Splashing me in the face. Like hyper little penguins racing around fighting to show off their wings. The really did kind of look like penguins in mid air, but I guess mostly they looked like Mantas.<br />Grant decided that it would be a good idea to get in. Yes as in, out of the kayak and into the water with manta rays. The same ones that killed Steve Erwin the crocodile guy. And as I just learned when I got home, another lady was killed randomly by a manta ray who flew out of the water and smacked into her. The impact of colliding with the 70 pound animal killed her, snapped her neck or gave her a fatal concussion or something. It didn't even stab her with that big dagger on the end of it's tail. (Can I just say that I know that as my mom reads this right now she may be regretting ever watching Ophelia that weekend. I love you mom!) Keep in mind it was just Grant going in there not me. I was in charge of keeping the kayak steady. And looking for sharks. I didn't know that's what I was going to be looking out for. But while keeping watch, I saw fins. They didn't look like Manta fins either. They looked like FINS! I try to hold down my panic while Grant is still skin diving hoping to get the perfect underwater picture of a manta ray. When he finally pops up, I say, impressively calmly, "Um Grant, I think I saw some fins over there. Not manta fins but more a little bit like shark fins." He didn't seem too worried as he snapped a picture of my very concerned I just saw freaking FINS face. Note the picture below. That's what I look like when I see a shark. Now you know. The other one<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMgjRqeaSKHIM9OhIcvrPl7-fLiGmkvtn4s3xZ6R_QW3VUKKTSd2eLK9y7-puNPdulwgt4z-WV5zwKGdbgg_F2XpM8Snc-MSnmQg7DYyv7UiUkOkypjKEZCo4YfBZyHK2Eap0ZZlyPIlFg/s1600-h/IMG_2578.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMgjRqeaSKHIM9OhIcvrPl7-fLiGmkvtn4s3xZ6R_QW3VUKKTSd2eLK9y7-puNPdulwgt4z-WV5zwKGdbgg_F2XpM8Snc-MSnmQg7DYyv7UiUkOkypjKEZCo4YfBZyHK2Eap0ZZlyPIlFg/s320/IMG_2578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182878718875702226" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrP9CAFZcNU_fjJOgiGntwepCJhHfz-ROw7iROZIhT-afc97aPlfiw_QHemGTaPV40uro7PfTqwu0Ror2wyXA4ia6tLks8RKbQdAvtfYm8ZCCvhnXdyDbxgOLFWXDLFxbdls5pvOnepW-/s1600-h/P3059937.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrP9CAFZcNU_fjJOgiGntwepCJhHfz-ROw7iROZIhT-afc97aPlfiw_QHemGTaPV40uro7PfTqwu0Ror2wyXA4ia6tLks8RKbQdAvtfYm8ZCCvhnXdyDbxgOLFWXDLFxbdls5pvOnepW-/s320/P3059937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182878714580734914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3MsBHqQxomsTBws_OKU2IwZGjXuC8V3XWw9lQCrP7hEIWLiOeetL5_qZWi28WbigSraclL8aW51JWZEeNWzkqr8DyRVXIZVlovv1AiKBOs5B0oHP1luOgXfsSL6-jYXdFqAPEYfSK995/s1600-h/IMG_0269.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3MsBHqQxomsTBws_OKU2IwZGjXuC8V3XWw9lQCrP7hEIWLiOeetL5_qZWi28WbigSraclL8aW51JWZEeNWzkqr8DyRVXIZVlovv1AiKBOs5B0oHP1luOgXfsSL6-jYXdFqAPEYfSK995/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182871765323649922" border="0" /></a>is a flying manta ray.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here is our we survived picture. ( I have to do this the way the blog lets me so you get little clumps of pictures. This one was actually taken at the end of the trip on our way out of town). Now back to our story.<br /><br />Hoss, Bob and Mona's neighbor who lives under a tree named "Hoss's Hovel", he has a house but he prefers the tree... He said there have been a few shark sightings in Cabo Pulmo over the last couple of weeks. Though I heard this information, though I'd seen suspicious fins, I still found it somewhat difficult to believe that sharks could actually be there at that very moment at that very part of the ocean that I was sitting on, in a kayak by myself holding onto two paddles. It was time for Grant to get back in. The sun was getting low in the sky and I was getting pretty chilly. Between the manta rays splashing and the big wave breaking over the boat, I was soaked.<br />As we paddled in, the mountains behind Cabo Pulmo turned a misty purple. You could see the lines of dust kicked up showing the path a pick up used to get home to his ranchero and the little buildings dotting this tiny little town. Even the Big Stupid Dive shop looked scenic from here. Though it wasn't dark yet the three new street lights in town start to flicker on. As I take in the serenity of of this place soaking up every ounce of this adventure, basking in the water splashing in my face as we battle the wind to paddle home, I look down. FINS clear as day with white tips. They are little. We squeeze in for a better look and the little finned animals whip away, but not before I caught a glimpse of a flattish head and blunt nose. VERY sharky looking. Grant agreed that the only animal he knew with a white tipped fin like that is a white tipped shark. Though they are usually much bigger than that. We decided it might be a junior but were left uncertain. Until the next week when Grant returned from Cabo Pulmo and reported seeing 150 junior white tip sharks passing the time on the reef. He said they all must have hatched recently because they don't usually hang out like that. Who knows, maybe they caught wind of some delicious flesh swimming with Manta's last week and came to check it out. I'm just glad I did not see them while Grant was skin diving or this little article may have been entitled "The day Anni and Grant were lost at sea, consumed by panic and fear she took them both down".<br />I guess it would be the first time someone didn't come back. Grant decided to wait until we neared shore to tell me the story of the lone windsurfer who went out on a day much like this particular day and never came back. It was at this point that I new Grant was a real friend. Not because he'd always tell me the truth but because he would always tell me what I needed to hear. Kind of like the time Betty Lopez and I were fishing in high seas. Waves were crashing over the top of our little fishing boat called the "Go Deep". As we were getting tossed about this little boat, holding on white knuckled for fear we may be pitched over the side, I ask Betty, "There's no way we could sink...could we?" Betty looks at me, smiles and shouts over the sound of revving motors and crashing waves, "NO! We'll be fine!" When we finally made it back to shore Betty looks at me and says, "Anni, if the Titanic could sink...." I wrapped my arms around her and knew that she was my true friend. Not because she told me the truth but because she told me what I needed to hear. Grant prooved himself to me at that moment, just as Betty had. He knew I really wanted to go, trusted my skills in the kayak and held his tongue and for that I will be forever grateful. Some may call it foolish, maybe even downright idiotic. For me, I call it an experience of a life time.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-40827051997722246032008-03-18T07:28:00.001-07:002008-03-19T16:36:09.640-07:00To Doin' it right and Epiphany's!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-awotomqWaqzOCUb5DUhwU54okZA2-lxK5-4_ir8Py2QDGqFem78hYhmcoWGwB6ppKlWe8Rzpyjj4sMIMmImBA17Bz80HIlXW1ualQ2Cxw7V3J81bSERZPxXMsSQbIJzg2VVguhnlgX6/s1600-h/IMG_0510.JPG">To <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Doin</span>' it right and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Epiphany's</span>!</a><br /><br />If there is one thing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cabo</span> and being 61 teaches you, is how to "do it right" any other way is a waste of time. Kathy is the Queen of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">doin</span>' it right. So for her birthday she rented a yacht. An 83 footer named "The Mick".<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-awotomqWaqzOCUb5DUhwU54okZA2-lxK5-4_ir8Py2QDGqFem78hYhmcoWGwB6ppKlWe8Rzpyjj4sMIMmImBA17Bz80HIlXW1ualQ2Cxw7V3J81bSERZPxXMsSQbIJzg2VVguhnlgX6/s1600-h/IMG_0510.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-awotomqWaqzOCUb5DUhwU54okZA2-lxK5-4_ir8Py2QDGqFem78hYhmcoWGwB6ppKlWe8Rzpyjj4sMIMmImBA17Bz80HIlXW1ualQ2Cxw7V3J81bSERZPxXMsSQbIJzg2VVguhnlgX6/s320/IMG_0510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179097111772254098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6WPzh-bGh_KLchm0xNpn9ViKCKR6wx1daMCrdtyfF_eD896Klgl7P2p_AG9dy1PmBQNqSV9X4BbjU3KspMzAbF2AFc41QCiTmntijmWekMXKtf9Qt_t0J6256HaYiO_h15KKOzUBrwNZ/s1600-h/IMG_0504.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6WPzh-bGh_KLchm0xNpn9ViKCKR6wx1daMCrdtyfF_eD896Klgl7P2p_AG9dy1PmBQNqSV9X4BbjU3KspMzAbF2AFc41QCiTmntijmWekMXKtf9Qt_t0J6256HaYiO_h15KKOzUBrwNZ/s320/IMG_0504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179097090297417586" border="0" /></a> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Basically</span> that's about six times bigger than all of these boats and 20 times smaller than this cruise ship. Of course I did not get a picture of "the Mick". I was too overcome with excitement. But you kind of get the idea. Think St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Tropez</span> big sexy boat filled with the sexy elite. Kinda like that but with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mexi</span>-Midwestern twist...hot!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7jQ_co0esZtnnmz4PiGzmaYZVj7L_T34tdjoNoQNBMnQPy7hf5asixb1x3AfatjIi5IEa7n-s0GixIlSd7mbUy11YPnEaYrlJZOcMapGR7eWd3RMsy7IDFnK1ySlMaKcfRABZrchlaYM/s1600-h/IMG_0426.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7jQ_co0esZtnnmz4PiGzmaYZVj7L_T34tdjoNoQNBMnQPy7hf5asixb1x3AfatjIi5IEa7n-s0GixIlSd7mbUy11YPnEaYrlJZOcMapGR7eWd3RMsy7IDFnK1ySlMaKcfRABZrchlaYM/s320/IMG_0426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179090153925234386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YRy27pr5w0c-pCd9a2pSijWZPkdCgwIDfWFiGnu51M-wlzdYpX8HCr6hGfDYJCzUubPTU0v34Uma1DlOZeHcZH76rSPgT9svQO0gxHDxfeAe7jHFRDX3X-SjNO9CRtCD71lUaA6pT2Vi/s1600-h/IMG_0451.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YRy27pr5w0c-pCd9a2pSijWZPkdCgwIDfWFiGnu51M-wlzdYpX8HCr6hGfDYJCzUubPTU0v34Uma1DlOZeHcZH76rSPgT9svQO0gxHDxfeAe7jHFRDX3X-SjNO9CRtCD71lUaA6pT2Vi/s320/IMG_0451.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179090171105103602" border="0" /></a><br />We cruised up the Sea of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cortez</span>. Past Villa Miguel, where we swung in the bay for a closer view and a picture. It was pretty hard to see from the boat. But we knew where it was and that the people staying there could see us perfectly. Kind of fun to have the tables turned and be one of the boats that we always watch.<br /><br />As we made our way up the coast to Santa Maria bay. The hours got long and our sailors grew weary. So to keep the sanity and off-set the scurvy we drank lots of margarita's and took pictures of ourselves.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIJU6um12mEuYslRuwkSpZ74l_Jal_p62ft1p9IzfuXvGzwtEbinaaEaKM60V_5HkCdsAg2UgjZF_Xm2QV9wcgKMVtlyG9LRfZQ813iMoFQuQkSo77TCXVCzG047EQRZnICAp4Sx16ISc/s1600-h/IMG_0452.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIJU6um12mEuYslRuwkSpZ74l_Jal_p62ft1p9IzfuXvGzwtEbinaaEaKM60V_5HkCdsAg2UgjZF_Xm2QV9wcgKMVtlyG9LRfZQ813iMoFQuQkSo77TCXVCzG047EQRZnICAp4Sx16ISc/s320/IMG_0452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179090175400070914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQyhMjv4qqjeywCJ606RoJEXlKsYGm7U-krR70mQRRLawUw7Zwq40fApt-PgXo-F2I198VGeY8zHLK7Q-kebtcd2maCfYCNAYkOHz5esi0RuUQYxiQezIX9rmVPyxzG3AphQ6cGEKYlbv/s1600-h/IMG_0457.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQyhMjv4qqjeywCJ606RoJEXlKsYGm7U-krR70mQRRLawUw7Zwq40fApt-PgXo-F2I198VGeY8zHLK7Q-kebtcd2maCfYCNAYkOHz5esi0RuUQYxiQezIX9rmVPyxzG3AphQ6cGEKYlbv/s320/IMG_0457.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179583031555691282" border="0" /></a><br />When we finally made it to Santa Maria bay. The anchor wouldn't hold due to the wild south wind, so we had to move onto <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Chileano</span> beach for some snorkeling. Our friend Betty Lopez told us that every year at this time, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Semana</span> Santa or Holy week (the week before Easter) the wind really starts to blow. She says it's a reminder of what this time of year means. I like that.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3l9cSt6Ks5ZUq8UAPdF2_Qtcn0DIru8LH3JDmd-wHTKdSwsASznG2ohwLZ8pFZawhaoAqnnkySSxuLxTxMdfqAYPsn16lRk2VbD5DsQpzNHqm6KgNsqTmt8tF8KfyJ8PqdrjVEkVRKZaJ/s1600-h/IMG_0460.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3l9cSt6Ks5ZUq8UAPdF2_Qtcn0DIru8LH3JDmd-wHTKdSwsASznG2ohwLZ8pFZawhaoAqnnkySSxuLxTxMdfqAYPsn16lRk2VbD5DsQpzNHqm6KgNsqTmt8tF8KfyJ8PqdrjVEkVRKZaJ/s320/IMG_0460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179095063072853810" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Chileano</span> beach is where things really got good. To snorkel for any amount of time it's best to wear a wet-suit because the water is pretty chilly . Putting on the wet-suit was quite a struggle for most of us, but see those long legged girls in the back? They had no problem. They are my nieces, to bad we're not related <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">genetically</span>. The rest of us tugged and squeezed , sucked in and shimmied. All in front of everybody. We actually planned that activity to bring the family closer together. A sort of team building for the clan. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEjxtzsUNWRIKjE5BJ7NFRnzhdZNXfqM5bKwnNu6obXou1kaSCvrivN4mpoVR5xSE6f1C2BlQBx-AVVt4TskXGhBuQzJCarTDtxPyU7sJIghB3YXNApRzQ_1xmC4V7rRemPEREDViYic1/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEjxtzsUNWRIKjE5BJ7NFRnzhdZNXfqM5bKwnNu6obXou1kaSCvrivN4mpoVR5xSE6f1C2BlQBx-AVVt4TskXGhBuQzJCarTDtxPyU7sJIghB3YXNApRzQ_1xmC4V7rRemPEREDViYic1/s320/IMG_0461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179095067367821122" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Yay</span> we did it. And don't we all look so much closer as a family??? The conditions at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Chileano</span> were less than ideal. However, we were able to keep the anchor stable for a bit. Just long enough for some of us to get in the water and see some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">fishies</span>. It was harder work than anticipated with the wind and a little bit of current and no life jackets and an anchor that didn't seem to want to stay and a little bit of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">claustrophobia</span> and freezing ass water, but we did it . We saw fish and by golly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">that's</span> we came to do...now lets get back on the boat and really get this party started...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">RIEEEGHT</span>!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwT_2lruws9O9PLILXraz1LhbRowWnO88wdMozlX9_hdLdZxVOhnrZJcrPaot7_rxawrGT5f56ZGdDfWMv3xZsyAjudO6nf4OLdGYLiQNlO-fFPfKJDjj4OdwlAFJ4Dt88A3c0-LuqejS/s1600-h/IMG_0466.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwT_2lruws9O9PLILXraz1LhbRowWnO88wdMozlX9_hdLdZxVOhnrZJcrPaot7_rxawrGT5f56ZGdDfWMv3xZsyAjudO6nf4OLdGYLiQNlO-fFPfKJDjj4OdwlAFJ4Dt88A3c0-LuqejS/s320/IMG_0466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179095071662788434" border="0" /></a><br />Cruising home. Many of us made a costume change for our champagne toast at the arch. We were ready for the photo opp. , but with the wind and all of the people we just couldn't get that money shot of all of us. But this is a good one that shows the wind and that we are having fun.<br />After our Champagne toast at the arch. We drove through the marina and docked. Which was pretty challenging with the wind, and we send out major props to our El <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Capitan</span> Jimmie. While docked we turned on the party music and started dancing. Well, actually it was mostly me. My niece Kathryn was mortified , "Auntie Anni...people can see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">youAH</span>" Without trying <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">mortifying</span> my nieces has become some what of a past time. It's pretty fun, you hardly have to do anything. Susannah didn't seem to mind so much and I got to teach her the Salsa that I had learned a couple of weeks before. A couple of others joined in and we had a regular ole dance party in the marina. Very "Housewives of Orange County" of us, only way classier. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of this because I was to busy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">bustin</span>' up the dance floor. But I hope you have a mental image.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM7HN9auxcLW3WX5g1ayGZj0KkfWyScoit4MpbOhJrIPTOiBnnI2LFhONb9Cua29J-8a4__ABvTE2EZumk0hTjk0Ow2pNZNmfnPpBwSTIO2FH7AiMC7rPxzTiHlv1dSPjvo_oq-4dwhJW/s1600-h/IMG_0509.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM7HN9auxcLW3WX5g1ayGZj0KkfWyScoit4MpbOhJrIPTOiBnnI2LFhONb9Cua29J-8a4__ABvTE2EZumk0hTjk0Ow2pNZNmfnPpBwSTIO2FH7AiMC7rPxzTiHlv1dSPjvo_oq-4dwhJW/s320/IMG_0509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179097103182319490" border="0" /></a>Then the mosquito's came. Nope not the Minnesota state bird, these guys, a mariachi band. They crooned to us during dinner. To be kind, I'm just not even going to talk about dinner. Lets just say there was food and leave it at that. The music was good though and the party fantastic. Mom got the biggest carrot cake I've ever seen and we all had a grand ole time.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WXmHkKp4ypWq6sUs6hT_mh2OhFtNXHG2T_rYgTG99s4jSP0v8Sk9efGY70TzM-bmoxygUtJFZyMzSUgfbCaEtErW5ntvcUEsQ_a8Hr0E08IsyGIfAXriBDI9gnl6SMYGY2dzYZJJ_7Qk/s1600-h/IMG_0511.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WXmHkKp4ypWq6sUs6hT_mh2OhFtNXHG2T_rYgTG99s4jSP0v8Sk9efGY70TzM-bmoxygUtJFZyMzSUgfbCaEtErW5ntvcUEsQ_a8Hr0E08IsyGIfAXriBDI9gnl6SMYGY2dzYZJJ_7Qk/s320/IMG_0511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179583044440593186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4yG63er5k45CxD2ODQtiFwYrSKnDJ-uNqZFC0h5686FkLIkfZ8iZ9SsuWF9t-qj__Z7dpHx6wEgvkcv1hyphenhyphen9svYL0VJwxRYr6ONCSNfgvcULmbjCb-g3eCKw-lJkrZWtRQrKLz2WvCC_eT/s1600-h/IMG_0515.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4yG63er5k45CxD2ODQtiFwYrSKnDJ-uNqZFC0h5686FkLIkfZ8iZ9SsuWF9t-qj__Z7dpHx6wEgvkcv1hyphenhyphen9svYL0VJwxRYr6ONCSNfgvcULmbjCb-g3eCKw-lJkrZWtRQrKLz2WvCC_eT/s320/IMG_0515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179583053030527794" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Feliz</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Cumpleanos</span>, Momma, Kathy (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Katty</span> in Spanish), Nana! And <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Muchas</span> Mas Anos!!!!!Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-56875555570031471312008-03-13T22:35:00.000-07:002008-03-17T10:36:40.699-07:00100 Things I love About Mexico<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSGaKpr7tKG7P7O11JNiaiPed7QQtnZgXPnR5ewWcHNIzlToXlmGmL0sSYSLX13szUO92H9BRtFvWB_maKnIi1tNfUlW9jtJrc1F6ow886jvYPIX56I2IahM03jXDVFFqNNDexizoowko/s1600-h/IMG_0367.JPG"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSGaKpr7tKG7P7O11JNiaiPed7QQtnZgXPnR5ewWcHNIzlToXlmGmL0sSYSLX13szUO92H9BRtFvWB_maKnIi1tNfUlW9jtJrc1F6ow886jvYPIX56I2IahM03jXDVFFqNNDexizoowko/s320/IMG_0367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177474571912072770" border="0" />And thats just the balloons. Look at all of those balloons. Ok I can't get rid of this underline so I guess we'll just have to deal. Sorry. My lack of computer skills and impatience will not allow me to find the solution. So moving on to San Jose days, or as our friend Claudia says, just for the gringo's, "St. Josephs". But nobody really calls it that so lets stick with San Jose. San Jose days is a local celebration that we first discovered years ago in our favorite little town of San Jose. It seems to always occur the week right before Semana Santa (Holy Week) The week right before Easter, a very big holiday down here.</a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2AG9XBgQqixxZtXxKLLFAI8GZYrkB0iEHuJxMHXYfvGFDjgKgMlQ9A7BuqLHmgfdKpZCPXL1GxAlCD6OF0OKtpCOf7bO5QO1PUe626OIPp5KtVS56kkGwVzIs7MHOr9p2PGiaNkQxSm8/s1600-h/IMG_0375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2AG9XBgQqixxZtXxKLLFAI8GZYrkB0iEHuJxMHXYfvGFDjgKgMlQ9A7BuqLHmgfdKpZCPXL1GxAlCD6OF0OKtpCOf7bO5QO1PUe626OIPp5KtVS56kkGwVzIs7MHOr9p2PGiaNkQxSm8/s320/IMG_0375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177474589091941986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XdfwzY9LEFh_xEHk_a9kptNlRL57jRET6pMQKsU1cGnImg0B6esFFrwef56DJwnacvy6fo0LE-oRa1XH1TY_ARXu3fddpp_Z_rZANvlF7bulgN7nYkBOlLLdUuMMwT1rydRQasgqDBvv/s1600-h/IMG_0387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XdfwzY9LEFh_xEHk_a9kptNlRL57jRET6pMQKsU1cGnImg0B6esFFrwef56DJwnacvy6fo0LE-oRa1XH1TY_ARXu3fddpp_Z_rZANvlF7bulgN7nYkBOlLLdUuMMwT1rydRQasgqDBvv/s320/IMG_0387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177583603951849122" border="0" /></a>The town center comes alive with balloon vendors, clowns, candy carts, and glow the dark toys for the kids. I look forward to the town carnival every year. I have been lucky enough to have been almost every year. Last year Katie, Autumn, Molly and I all went. And Katie and I found the most amazing plantano (big banana) stuffed with a churro smothered in butter and covered in caramel. No seriously Katie and I started jumping up and down and cheering when we saw them slap that butter on. This year we skipped the plantains and went strait for the balloons and glow in the dark toys.<br />This is the first year that I have been able to bring Ophelia to this town fiesta and was so excited that she was finally ready because I knew she would flip! There was a dance recital on the town center stage and Ophelia immediately made a bunch of dancing buddies and they all rocked out on the town center gazebo. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma8cZQ21Qh2mqYUSsO_za-Tmcso_XS9WHA_eJJUyacxuEuZ5yrA6XMsNacsJXJeCLYsniEgIc9nZSp0vjS6VXKMWbSCNLTXHuRzR_4wnKc13o_Sr-GqTB2n5fEieFUFH4exU18vVT6Rzv/s1600-h/IMG_0391.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma8cZQ21Qh2mqYUSsO_za-Tmcso_XS9WHA_eJJUyacxuEuZ5yrA6XMsNacsJXJeCLYsniEgIc9nZSp0vjS6VXKMWbSCNLTXHuRzR_4wnKc13o_Sr-GqTB2n5fEieFUFH4exU18vVT6Rzv/s320/IMG_0391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177583621131718338" border="0" /></a>I love San Jose because it is totally different from the party town of Cabo. This is where Mexico's true culture shows through. The center square is a family focus and there are always local events. I have a fantasy that one day Ophelia will debut her dance on this stage. San Jose also has all of the best restaurants, and art crawl in which I love to go and visit all of the paintings and pieces that I will never be able to afford but enjoy still the same.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DRrrSqUIwl6DwZWYXizvJ2PkOk9h9Vef5APcOWBN0VsXRNajEg74iUmeGVPhUq-yRlGahisd5-tQB-HcRgYmcNaEipRkWtc3IyQph1vLF9WC43YNebbwe9HIvCVOcUg7ZQLQNV88y1h_/s1600-h/IMG_0384.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DRrrSqUIwl6DwZWYXizvJ2PkOk9h9Vef5APcOWBN0VsXRNajEg74iUmeGVPhUq-yRlGahisd5-tQB-HcRgYmcNaEipRkWtc3IyQph1vLF9WC43YNebbwe9HIvCVOcUg7ZQLQNV88y1h_/s320/IMG_0384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177474597681876610" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDBWQYvdw9jUCojGHJQF5WdBdSCmq6H-MSLNbRkXQbe6zayZYVVeihlPuNmvXqf46JW9lK1Kr_Gg124JsdOjgY1F1gPYmSmtsETrDH5IeyNgGDBXqKnixeoLt_I_0k-pDSFVF8215njOY/s1600-h/IMG_0379.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDBWQYvdw9jUCojGHJQF5WdBdSCmq6H-MSLNbRkXQbe6zayZYVVeihlPuNmvXqf46JW9lK1Kr_Gg124JsdOjgY1F1gPYmSmtsETrDH5IeyNgGDBXqKnixeoLt_I_0k-pDSFVF8215njOY/s320/IMG_0379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177474593386909298" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoH48tuf26ILNjZvJPIwr1BOJfvzl9uEuESIgRhTvB2FF3zza9kFnXAQY2FzCfjepBN78yhHJLxXPnJDPqM9WV-3_AYAHwes-uZk_QR1eMZiFjH9Ld192bFD-8VXjRZ98va1AOU9UR1qc/s1600-h/IMG_0372.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoH48tuf26ILNjZvJPIwr1BOJfvzl9uEuESIgRhTvB2FF3zza9kFnXAQY2FzCfjepBN78yhHJLxXPnJDPqM9WV-3_AYAHwes-uZk_QR1eMZiFjH9Ld192bFD-8VXjRZ98va1AOU9UR1qc/s320/IMG_0372.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177474580502007378" border="0" /></a>I think there is little doubt that Cabo is one of my most favorite places on the planet. Even as Cabo grows it still maintains it's small town (or twin town) feel. Giving a little slice of just about everything I am in to. On this trip I have done everything I could imagine to do here. We threw a wedding at Villla Miguel. I went sailing. We saw the whale babies and got to touch them. I hiked a waterfall. I visited Cabo Pulmo and kayaked with manta ray's flying out of the Sea of Cortez. I'm working on getting my Scuba. Have met some amazing and inspiring people. Partied like the rock star I am. Learned how to make tortilla's. Got Ophelia to play in the ocean. Took my first motorcycle ride. Learned how to Salsa. Got my mom in a Kayak. Panga fished with Champagne. Slept under the stars. Saw a lunar eclipse and lots of shooting stars.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zoIbSbVRBEhaMQI7ekpN0C5owm_UCtgXR8IjNUQiQ50tGxHX_WGahVa4bEaySO3gyZ4FJ0DaH8fKNDdRSxMoQXtKG8jwhWIYYcwbd6UuieM0F6CAlZGnwZcAm0zXyETd1czCrQY8ol4H/s1600-h/IMG_0389.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zoIbSbVRBEhaMQI7ekpN0C5owm_UCtgXR8IjNUQiQ50tGxHX_WGahVa4bEaySO3gyZ4FJ0DaH8fKNDdRSxMoQXtKG8jwhWIYYcwbd6UuieM0F6CAlZGnwZcAm0zXyETd1czCrQY8ol4H/s320/IMG_0389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177583612541783730" border="0" /></a>So many things that have reinvoked the passion in me. I have been so excited by these experiences that at times I feel as if I have popped out of my body and am watching another persons wonderful life. When I realize it is me I am astonished. Life has not been perfect here, no doubt, we have had our challenges. But isn't that what life is all about?? I don't think I could have appreciated my time here nearly as much had I not just emerged from the most challenging time in my life. What I have learned for this trip combined with the loss of our beloved Mikey is that life is not to be taken lightly but by the horns. For me it is time to ride that bull. I'm going to make the active practice of doing the things that I love and not wait and not be afraid of what might happen.<br /><br />We are in our last week here in cabo and it's pretty obvious that introspection has smacked me in my suntanned face. However, we are looking forward to seeing everybody at home. It is my goal to get the stories and pictures of all of our experiences out on this blog before I get home. But you may just have to wait to hear some of them in person. We are excited to see all of you and share our stories.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-90254903505993257342008-03-13T10:14:00.000-07:002008-03-13T22:35:27.050-07:00We Love Mambo Cafe...and EachotherI successfully did not take one picture of Amy and Brandon's wedding. I took a whole bunch of the kids during the wedding and a WHOLE bunch of the after party. But if you want to see<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGFJmQaNApBo-Gt-twiSb9PB5KLFh-T0KfMi-c8fqV4DgJqu8dc81ruylmtkhrv8cVQAn5rc8O6xhEBRbxHEztm5Qe4gZdTJ56syA6_tNrVruvKPEp318yzGxWRTicgLtQiX-8mk6O3Sd/s1600-h/IMG_0302.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGFJmQaNApBo-Gt-twiSb9PB5KLFh-T0KfMi-c8fqV4DgJqu8dc81ruylmtkhrv8cVQAn5rc8O6xhEBRbxHEztm5Qe4gZdTJ56syA6_tNrVruvKPEp318yzGxWRTicgLtQiX-8mk6O3Sd/s320/IMG_0302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177291108089056642" border="0" /></a>Pictures of the actual wedding and cute couply pictures you have to go to the pro's. Ali our photographer just got a few of her like 600 (I'm not kidding) pictures up. You should check out her blog at http://www.alisonleaweddings.blogspot.com/. They are are pretty fantastic. <br /><br />If you want to see what what happens after the wedding's over, the Bramjito's start kicking in and a salsa lesson, you come to me. The pictures aren't so perfect and things are getting a little messy but that's the fun and man do we all super love each other. See that last picture. The one handed, squeeze all your heads in, smile so big it eats your face, shoot right up your nose picture??? Yah I have like a hundred of those. I will spare you most of them but I had to share to prove how fantastic we all thought we were. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwy8VNdABV7GnRBWxWBBqJV07X4SeRFD1BQx0sXTYuEW-2mwrTqxVauTKJPtb9UkB_mr3Dv1lXwALylSYzlny10SQm_5baGPZsGJvXSB79vjEIaKNWQ1W5Evm_Y_Oc6jNR2Aq1jOI2Uaih/s1600-h/IMG_0305.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwy8VNdABV7GnRBWxWBBqJV07X4SeRFD1BQx0sXTYuEW-2mwrTqxVauTKJPtb9UkB_mr3Dv1lXwALylSYzlny10SQm_5baGPZsGJvXSB79vjEIaKNWQ1W5Evm_Y_Oc6jNR2Aq1jOI2Uaih/s320/IMG_0305.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177291133858860434" border="0" /></a>Speaking of fantastic. Remember how I just mentioned we took an hour salsa lesson at the Villia Miguel reception??? Well we thought we were so fantastic that we'd take our skills to the streets, and hit Cabo's version of the Copa Cabana and go salsa dancing. Little did we know that they were holding a pretty serious dance contest (they had dance numbers on and everything). Little did we care. We totally crashed it. We came to dance and thats what we were gonna do. From the looks of these pictures we were pretty awesome. Did I mention that I bought our little group an entire bottle of tequila?? It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Note to self. Next time you think it's a good idea to buy an entire bottle of tequila at 2:00 am. DO IT!!!! When it's 2:00 am you are not going to convince yourself otherwise and you will make lots of friends on the streets of cabo when you realize your party can't drink it all. It also makes you think you are a super fantastic dancer and you dance until you get a blister the size<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpnP0EIPcbuVrrtHdnbhW-ZMsOAPARY5maJ_ejbg4FhFdLP4w57RGVSa3JKQ8GNz72T9IY1NI-C5Pyt5lITHUZyXTdDT0DHklG8h_Re63aZLz6A9z3tPoAbDjjHNLgbR8JJAVPxgypm2r/s1600-h/IMG_0329.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpnP0EIPcbuVrrtHdnbhW-ZMsOAPARY5maJ_ejbg4FhFdLP4w57RGVSa3JKQ8GNz72T9IY1NI-C5Pyt5lITHUZyXTdDT0DHklG8h_Re63aZLz6A9z3tPoAbDjjHNLgbR8JJAVPxgypm2r/s320/IMG_0329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177456374135639522" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQ8UAz7hyphenhyphen_lTb71w9GMVVixv3P4sreVXq851t0OwIiYXbfTFqGGq8ZpqyTmM3LEplsFD3upru23BA8adRSBn1Kq09vvCN7H3-iTt1GJmcNfx3FiFSeU7KfV0WeTT0dUnt9W1jchOZyoXO/s1600-h/IMG_0325.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQ8UAz7hyphenhyphen_lTb71w9GMVVixv3P4sreVXq851t0OwIiYXbfTFqGGq8ZpqyTmM3LEplsFD3upru23BA8adRSBn1Kq09vvCN7H3-iTt1GJmcNfx3FiFSeU7KfV0WeTT0dUnt9W1jchOZyoXO/s320/IMG_0325.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177291163923631522" border="0" /></a>of Kansas on your foot. (thank goodness I spared you the picture of that, ewe). Had you not had that bottle of tequila you would not have that little reminder of how great you really thought you were. Follow that?? Good you must be a tequila drinker.<br /><br />Oooo yup and here we are back to the pictures of loving each other. Can you see my brain up through my nose? Oh yah and here is Brandon and I dancing. He thinks he won the dance contest. All I can say is he didn't do it alone. YEEHAW!!!!! CABO WEDDING 2008!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZXDoFTWLOxFWP2Toqlh1HRJ4pbRfijkO8Voz5YbkE4lzokt0fMtxUmDLTi1GFryWEw02nYEFK6VYbiUjYvjbsLUEUKTFzD8ld5dnKo_EYNVJ_jx41Se0DrRQiu1OM9FrdNpEfbKqHbAM/s1600-h/IMG_0331.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZXDoFTWLOxFWP2Toqlh1HRJ4pbRfijkO8Voz5YbkE4lzokt0fMtxUmDLTi1GFryWEw02nYEFK6VYbiUjYvjbsLUEUKTFzD8ld5dnKo_EYNVJ_jx41Se0DrRQiu1OM9FrdNpEfbKqHbAM/s320/IMG_0331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177291185398468018" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScbMonDJfwJnzX1uflYdWjMBEt2xdFr4PkxzYgnw2fpcG9Wpb_nsXjfEYj4OIiNhEZ7alIiAXzFcwd3ye4oD6q1tkVzAMdpncGozmhusXC4YeaXQyaYGyE6KoNdFpJ5R9qxd7maeN3yQw/s1600-h/IMG_0344.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScbMonDJfwJnzX1uflYdWjMBEt2xdFr4PkxzYgnw2fpcG9Wpb_nsXjfEYj4OIiNhEZ7alIiAXzFcwd3ye4oD6q1tkVzAMdpncGozmhusXC4YeaXQyaYGyE6KoNdFpJ5R9qxd7maeN3yQw/s320/IMG_0344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177456365545704914" border="0" /></a>Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-29921640990698849662008-03-11T12:27:00.001-07:002008-03-11T14:18:37.141-07:00Babies and Bodas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sovDUzAvP-vSysFznUsNkXCFHIXUNc14UB3jWytAJ6PdUeWlllDzibztd9NWNEtScS1dv4ocf1AhGBV2dg878bAjH3TWw9pGbqq5eSwecH4yHiiVCLL7a1CrI80tXu6JIwpJEXGI3Gry/s1600-h/IMG_0282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sovDUzAvP-vSysFznUsNkXCFHIXUNc14UB3jWytAJ6PdUeWlllDzibztd9NWNEtScS1dv4ocf1AhGBV2dg878bAjH3TWw9pGbqq5eSwecH4yHiiVCLL7a1CrI80tXu6JIwpJEXGI3Gry/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176577829985307986" border="0" /></a>Hmmm. I wonder where Ophelia learned that little move. Thats what you get when you let the kids play with their uncle.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxUEqp9k1YQNglWo-suiMxboX9DqrSLTZf5JLHVV2wjaN61ndRulrC6Bb5MsBa4lWq7T5jx8o_2pCH1slVHdpEn5sAEueTyHRo5k91CcCOzs-q3oifufO39rBtD3g9rd2xxTDuqCknpiT/s1600-h/IMG_0297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxUEqp9k1YQNglWo-suiMxboX9DqrSLTZf5JLHVV2wjaN61ndRulrC6Bb5MsBa4lWq7T5jx8o_2pCH1slVHdpEn5sAEueTyHRo5k91CcCOzs-q3oifufO39rBtD3g9rd2xxTDuqCknpiT/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176570687454694674" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rEb_GrU8NfSjibvyeU5XEB6jnP31Bf9-OIpUseJYpgUxeZxt48hMCcwMSC4G-TTFQ52h9QrkGWuFX_fLdzY3opCSOB8E-xXA3gYiWsoGiRPJxGExnM4FK9zRvoiUSGo7ny64Ng-UPs7c/s1600-h/IMG_0284.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rEb_GrU8NfSjibvyeU5XEB6jnP31Bf9-OIpUseJYpgUxeZxt48hMCcwMSC4G-TTFQ52h9QrkGWuFX_fLdzY3opCSOB8E-xXA3gYiWsoGiRPJxGExnM4FK9zRvoiUSGo7ny64Ng-UPs7c/s320/IMG_0284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176570713224498482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rhTsExybHmUaXyMW7K95AF56xREcunE3wkK8Z6H6pv7A3QMlkHHCNB97uxYmII2u2-7CNE4zz6H6E4Lf23eI4xSLgEfWRjuTQhxtKUV1VqxDBIIWzigu2w3EmgQSJv1V9GlhcAi5AWKD/s1600-h/IMG_0286.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rhTsExybHmUaXyMW7K95AF56xREcunE3wkK8Z6H6pv7A3QMlkHHCNB97uxYmII2u2-7CNE4zz6H6E4Lf23eI4xSLgEfWRjuTQhxtKUV1VqxDBIIWzigu2w3EmgQSJv1V9GlhcAi5AWKD/s320/IMG_0286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176570726109400386" border="0" /></a>By the way, boda means wedding in Spanish. Just in case you were confused by the title of this lil blog.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPy1omxZGvrcJr8ZSXOXxYbrvQye6oWGxinYAgugoBJpswdgSvrQoDtW6n9s7UTwF5fuXg1wGUUHKog7bhIqCB22lCtxpiW2IqiPlv95wduM4K8gx6bOji03IwOyGZxjsyjtjowg_QJFi/s1600-h/IMG_0294.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPy1omxZGvrcJr8ZSXOXxYbrvQye6oWGxinYAgugoBJpswdgSvrQoDtW6n9s7UTwF5fuXg1wGUUHKog7bhIqCB22lCtxpiW2IqiPlv95wduM4K8gx6bOji03IwOyGZxjsyjtjowg_QJFi/s320/IMG_0294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176577842870209890" border="0" /></a>These are just a couple kid pics from the wedding. I didn't get any of the actual wedding because our good friend and lady of all trades Ali Geier took tons of pictures. As soon as they are up on her blog I will let you know. <br /><br />The little girl in blue is O's friend Lettie. Her mom babysits for Ophelia and sometimes she comes along. She loves to dress up so we thought she might want to come to the wedding. Isn't she a cutie. <br /><br />O was the flower girl for my cousin's wedding and this is the dress she wore. Our housekeeper Amelia bought it for her in La Paz. It was perfect. The little boy sitting next to O is Isak the ring bearer. This is them letting loose after all of their wedding responsabilites. By the end of the evening their wedding clothes were soaked and they could not have been happier. Even Lettie got in in her blue dress.<br /><br />These are the tranquil pictures of the evening. Things picked up quite a bit as the night progressed. We hired salsa dancers to teach us some moves. Some of us took what we learned and brought it out on the town. Those pictures are to follow. Things got a little rowdy. We crashed a dance contest at the local salsa club. I'll say no more but you can look forward to that post.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6177275814913985423.post-58679988736867276672008-03-10T21:17:00.001-07:002008-03-10T22:00:42.744-07:00That Ther's a Big Fish<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkZTFLG6LN4AMVdxek-zJNvpaIo_hoFuu2h-tj5Fnq7szsoImKil0R8o28voFxYncXc4-UEYDIZFnDxP66CsR5rRKk36zZIFVO8_QF1FhDMMedOq7kQOfuptuJcna0jfdOo-sWZN10Z1y/s1600-h/IMG_0345.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkZTFLG6LN4AMVdxek-zJNvpaIo_hoFuu2h-tj5Fnq7szsoImKil0R8o28voFxYncXc4-UEYDIZFnDxP66CsR5rRKk36zZIFVO8_QF1FhDMMedOq7kQOfuptuJcna0jfdOo-sWZN10Z1y/s320/IMG_0345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176343638303558882" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXOO2d2WGFmTvyNm_dUQ0DAw0QUqq12EVC3q5eh5W3zxSatJyrhlRog8BJFKKo_zIU4iEWQiJ3kByPGY_JbQG4IQaYl9AddJFVQ22ORqdUX31vUQ2HzAliCrtGAi_QdoM1YQ5Mi7p3dfe/s1600-h/IMG_0351.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXOO2d2WGFmTvyNm_dUQ0DAw0QUqq12EVC3q5eh5W3zxSatJyrhlRog8BJFKKo_zIU4iEWQiJ3kByPGY_JbQG4IQaYl9AddJFVQ22ORqdUX31vUQ2HzAliCrtGAi_QdoM1YQ5Mi7p3dfe/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176337067003595986" border="0" /></a>So after months of trying to get this thing up I am finally here. So now what am I supposed to do since a month and a half of really good stories and photos have already passed. I've decided to start with today and work backward, adding any current stories along the way. Hopefully I keep making lots of them.<br /><br />Here are some pics of the day. As many of you know one of my fave things to do in Cabo is go panga fishing. We went for the first time since I've been down here. My cousins and uncle, his girlfriend and my new super friend Grant, who loves to do all of the same things as me. Notice the bottle of champagne in one hand and reel in the other. We caught lots of fish. Mostly bonito and yellowtail. All really good eating. We had a few bonito the other day sashimi style and it was fantastic. The fish weren't huge but we felt super bad ass catchin'em. Notice the bad ass face. Nice huh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2_pHBovBd2cEDeSwqazKZ0XpOjWgE4D_E20GMGo3mz6bfC4qswNEqJPqW1f2ljNHjMuTI3ocGnhaPEzqQJqwi96JPGi0SPtuIDsPCWD2LniC2w1LgRz1hHth6Lzj8raookPuA8a0Co2E/s1600-h/IMG_0352.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2_pHBovBd2cEDeSwqazKZ0XpOjWgE4D_E20GMGo3mz6bfC4qswNEqJPqW1f2ljNHjMuTI3ocGnhaPEzqQJqwi96JPGi0SPtuIDsPCWD2LniC2w1LgRz1hHth6Lzj8raookPuA8a0Co2E/s320/IMG_0352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176335190102887586" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwCKqSCv2UiFHRUG6YVBDO-88l_IeupjjCnQ13L9vlV1bH5Q1dP4TG2lCTkakZ6Th9dNrFk-y4yWnZmBRE86M_ZfkRUVOD2L_3s3FNwfWV-dbHy-vO3F1hviz8nv23pl-jYRMRBR9x-2Q/s1600-h/IMG_0355.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwCKqSCv2UiFHRUG6YVBDO-88l_IeupjjCnQ13L9vlV1bH5Q1dP4TG2lCTkakZ6Th9dNrFk-y4yWnZmBRE86M_ZfkRUVOD2L_3s3FNwfWV-dbHy-vO3F1hviz8nv23pl-jYRMRBR9x-2Q/s320/IMG_0355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176335198692822194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQVr0BOoB14iDjAT_CoQfVWSLpInFLf3d7Gzmqp3oKtZ03A2WqUXZcbtaibLJns9y7lCX6xs723rZsW7xjvmVfQUXO6tHLrX0HPjbaDQJcGKgwH9oWgHJUHx0SxLxRzLiYd34NdNXB9bq/s1600-h/IMG_0356.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQVr0BOoB14iDjAT_CoQfVWSLpInFLf3d7Gzmqp3oKtZ03A2WqUXZcbtaibLJns9y7lCX6xs723rZsW7xjvmVfQUXO6tHLrX0HPjbaDQJcGKgwH9oWgHJUHx0SxLxRzLiYd34NdNXB9bq/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176335211577724098" border="0" /></a><br />We caught about 11 fish with all three boats we caught about 25 or more. We saved some for the guys but we're bringing most of them home so look forward to some good eatin'. I don't know what it is about dead fish pictures that seem so artistic...maybe it's just that they are not and I only think so because I'm not an artist. Whatever the case may be I always like to take an "artsy" picture of my catch (aka. dead fish).<br /><br />Ok so consider th<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZjDrbK2YH4XvvjzghmAotv6WCZB-vJRo0FFm6e7KNZQR8RT8nrL8Oe0X-REeSyNZNGiGsNX7B1tQhw3ynFS975mrsHl8aze_5DHKqQLTjbk2xaw_dV2rimufxYjNblYQcHfV2UCZxEfR/s1600-h/IMG_0360.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZjDrbK2YH4XvvjzghmAotv6WCZB-vJRo0FFm6e7KNZQR8RT8nrL8Oe0X-REeSyNZNGiGsNX7B1tQhw3ynFS975mrsHl8aze_5DHKqQLTjbk2xaw_dV2rimufxYjNblYQcHfV2UCZxEfR/s320/IMG_0360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176343651188460786" border="0" /></a>is my experimental 1st blog. I know it's not all that interesting but I didn't want to get to into it only to screw it up. Bear with me things will get better, or I'll just quit doing it. At least there are pictures. Pictures are always fun.Annihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02445575888016567087noreply@blogger.com3