<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647</id><updated>2012-01-26T22:35:42.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Graveyard Soup</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>80</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-3428187679492323387</id><published>2011-10-30T07:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T08:21:20.051-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices abd Consequences</title><content type='html'>The young man lay dying. He knew this to be a fact, he knew he was mortally wounded.&lt;br /&gt;An older man approached him, this surprised him as everyone he knew was either dead or dying, and this man was in perfect health.&lt;br /&gt;“Who are you?” the young man asked.&lt;br /&gt;“I am you.” the older man answered simply.&lt;br /&gt;“How can that be, I am dying……I won’t live to be old.”&lt;br /&gt;The older man settled down beside the younger man, and made himself comfortable before replying.&lt;br /&gt;“Because in a different life you made a different choice.”&lt;br /&gt;“You’re crazy” the younger man replied “How can that be, I am right here, and I know that I am done for.”&lt;br /&gt;“See, what you don’t understand is that you have had this choice before, and you chose differently.” The older man appeared to be lost in remembering.&lt;br /&gt;Then a great saddness came over him, an almost visible weight that made him appear even older………&lt;br /&gt;“Because in my lifetime, you chose to live. You decided that being alive was more important than being true to yourself. You decided that it was better to believe whatever you were told, instead of thinking for yourself.” the old man replied.&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t believe you.” the younger man answered “I wouldn’t do that.”&lt;br /&gt;“You decided,” the older man continued as if he hadn’t heard, “that no matter what you had to do, you would live.”&lt;br /&gt;The older man was quiet for a moment and tears came into his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;“You betrayed your friends, your morals and even your family. You turned a blind eye to what was really happening, as long as you could live. You watched as the world turned upside down, caring more for yourself than for anyone else. Your fear of being different, of being noticed, of what “they” could do to you was more important than finding out the truth. It was more important than acting on what you knew was right. It was more important than protecting your friends and your family. It was more important than taking responsibility for yourself. Of standing for something. “&lt;br /&gt;The old man stopped for a moment. Wracked by sobs, he was having trouble speaking.&lt;br /&gt;Finally he began again, “So you lived a long time. But you lived without your friends and your family. You were totally alone, but you were alive. It took a long time for you to realise that there is so much more to really living than just drawing breath. All of your life it was others who told you what to do, where to go and how to live. Finally, finally you realized that what you had bought when you sold out was existance, not life. As a result you became a slave, a certified numbered, poked and prodded piece of chattel.”&lt;br /&gt;The old man shifted his position, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat.&lt;br /&gt;“Then you began to remember and to think. You remembered your family and your friends. You finally felt regret. You finally remembered that standing up is better than being led. That being alive doesn’t mean a damn thing if you sell out. “&lt;br /&gt;The old man shifted his position again so he could look the younger man in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;“You finally remembered that you had a choice, that your life didn’t have to be an empty and meaningless series of days and routines. So you went back to that moment when you made that choice to sell out, to save yourself. You and your friends decided that to sacrifice yourselves to save your families was the only moral and meaningful decision. So, here I am………… here I am again, but with a different choice. In my lifetime all this was swept under the carpet, because I sold everyone out, and no one knew what happened here.”&lt;br /&gt;The old man shook his head and pointed, “Look around you; you and your friends gave your lives to save others, to save your families. This time this will not go unnoticed, things will begin to change, because with your sacrifice you gave people hope. They will see that change is possible, and necessary. Oh, not all of them, but enough.”&lt;br /&gt;“So what are you going to do?” the younger man asked.&lt;br /&gt;Quietly the older man answered, ” Do what I should have done instead of being a selfish coward. I will die here with you.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-3428187679492323387?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3428187679492323387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=3428187679492323387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/3428187679492323387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/3428187679492323387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2011/10/choices-abd-consequences.html' title='Choices abd Consequences'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-1234219798134006043</id><published>2011-10-25T08:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T08:49:24.584-04:00</updated><title type='text'>T.O.B.A.</title><content type='html'>This stands for Tough Old Broads Association.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not posted here in a long time, and it is past time for me to do so. This site has evolved into a place for my alter-ego to say all those things that are normally left unspoken. Things that you want to say, but for the sake of peace and harmony you bite your tongue and don't say out loud. Well, I am damned tired of holding it all in. Of biting my tongue off. It is time to vent.&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;Oh where to start.........where to start.........there is no lack of material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just how do you know if you are a tough old broad? It really is quite simple. If you have survived- with your brain mostly intact-raising children, dealing with men, a job........sometimes just life, you qualify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are tired of dealing with air headed bimbos with their expensive clothes, hair, make-up, lipo-suctioned, face-lifted, ass lifted and breast augmented bodies......useless as shit on a pump handle and dumb as a monkeys ass.....you are welcome here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are tired of dealing with men. I really don't want to lump them all into one basic category, but let's face the facts here. I have yet to meet a single one who will be straight up with you. Who will not tell you what they think you want to hear. Who treats you like a person, an intelligent human being......you are welcome here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarcasm has become my marching song. I just can't seem to get by with out it anymore. Sadly, most people don't even catch the fact that I am being sarcastic. It just flies right over their heads......too bad it can't drop shit on its way over.....................maybe that would get their attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where has honesty, integrity. morals, common sense and common courtesy dissappeared to? What I have experienced is the fact that everyone is out for themselves, me first and fuck you if you happen to get in the way. I am worn out and tired of the bullshit. I am fed up with people who complain, whine, bitch and complain some more. but are totally unwilling to grow a spine and do what needs to be done. At that point you deserve the consequences of your own actions or in-actions. Period. You tolerate it, you send the message that it is ok. So shut up and deal already. Obviously things are not bad enough to walk away from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM a tough old broad. Sometimes I am a tough old cast iron bitch. Mostly I am just tired of people not having enough of a back bone to be just be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come..............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-1234219798134006043?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1234219798134006043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=1234219798134006043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1234219798134006043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1234219798134006043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2011/10/toba.html' title='T.O.B.A.'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-5340368558875492178</id><published>2009-02-14T08:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:30:06.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Febuary</title><content type='html'>Just doing a sort post to keep this blog updated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-5340368558875492178?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/5340368558875492178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=5340368558875492178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/5340368558875492178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/5340368558875492178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2009/02/febuary.html' title='Febuary'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-7021316105988956582</id><published>2008-05-05T11:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T13:37:17.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>I know I have not updated this blog with a post in quite a while. Well Now is the time. I have some things to get off my chest with a good old rant. I got started on this train of thought by a post this morning at &lt;a href="http://mrsjosegoldbloom/wordpress.com"&gt;Goldblooms Padded Cell&lt;/a&gt;...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Laundry- This is a job that never ends. I don't mind doing laundry. I would just like to see an empty hamper for more than 5 minutes. At least I don't usually have to go around and pick up the clothes but I still stare in amazement at the sheer quantity! Just how many times a day do some of you people have to change your clothes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Dishes- Does anyone know how to pick up a cup, glass, plate, bowl etc. and take it to the kitchen? These things will not grow legs and walk themselves to the sink. And how about rinsing out one of these things? I really get no pleasure out of having to scrub off dried on whatever out of said cups, glasses, plates, bowls and assorted silver ware. Or of having to clean up spilled soda from inside the refrigerator. If you are going to open a can of soda, drink the damn thing! Don't pour half of it into a glass and set the open can in the fridge. This is an accident just waiting to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am a stay at home grandma. This does NOT mean that I sit around all day with my feet up watching soap operas and eating bon bons while being waited on hand and foot by nubile handsome young men. It DOES mean that I do all the housework, laundry, shopping, yardwork, cooking, caring for the four year old grandson, errands for others and just about anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Taking out the trash- Now this is hardly a highly technical accomplishment. Yet I am the only person who seems to understand that when the trash can in the kitchen is full that it needs to emptied. NOT crammed even fuller. Or that it is acceptable to let said trash fall over onto the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Day off- This is a term that I have no experience with. However I have observed other members of this household doing things like sleeping all day, reading for hours, spending hours at a time playing computer games etc.. Then saying how nice it was to not have to do anything all day. PLEASE let me experience this just once!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-7021316105988956582?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7021316105988956582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=7021316105988956582&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7021316105988956582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7021316105988956582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2008/05/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-5025018237393320113</id><published>2007-12-08T08:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T08:29:36.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guide for the holidays........</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="postentry"&gt;      &lt;div class="snap_preview"&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season. The Christians called it “Christmas” and went to church. The Jews called it “Hanukka” and went to synagogue. The atheists went to parties and drank.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;These days, people say “Seasons Greetings”, which when you think about it, means nothing. It’s like walking up to someone and saying “Appropriate Remark” in a loud and cheerful voice.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Some of you may be unhappy with this dereligionizing of the Holiday Season and you may have decided that you’re going to celebrate the old fashioned way, with your family sitting around stringing cranberries and exchanging homemade gifts. Well, you can forget it. If everyone pulled a stunt like that, the economy would collapse overnight. The government would have to intervene, forming a cabinet level Department of Holiday Gifting, which would spend billions and billions of tax dollars to buy Barbie dolls and electronic games, which it would drop on the populace from Air Force jets, killing and maiming thousands. So, for the good of the nation, you should go along with the program. This means you should get a large sum of money and go to a mall.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When you get to the mall, the first thing to remember is that you should not park in the mall parking lot and walk to the mall buildings, because you will probably get killed. Instead drive your car right up to and, if possible, right into the mall building. This is perfectly legal, people do it all the time. In almost every mall I’ve ever been to, the corridors were littered with cars, RVs, snowmobiles and boats left by smart parkers.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now you are ready for the actual shopping. Your goal should be to get it over with as quickly as possible.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Here is a very efficient shopping method: Divide the amount of money you have by the number of people on your gift list. So if you have $160 and you have 10 people on your list, your average is $16 per person. Now find something that costs $16 and buy 10 of whatever it is. You’ll find many useful gifts in this price range; for example, you could get 10 bottles of Vitamin B. Everyone can use Vitamin B and your children are sure to shriek with delight when they find it under the tree.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If you want to buy gifts that are a little more personal, here are some guidelines:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Gifts for Men&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Men are amused by almost any idiot thing, that is why professional ice hockey is so popular. So buying gifts for them is easy. But you should never buy them clothes. Men believe that they already have all the clothes they will ever need and new ones make them nervous. If you give him something even as simple as a new tie, he will pretend to like it, but deep inside he will hate you. If you want to give a man something practical, consider tires.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Gifts for Women&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Again, you should avoid buying clothes. Not because women don’t like clothes, the problem here is sizes. Women’s clothing sizes don’t mean anything,they vary from store to store, from manufacturer to manufacturer depending on the day of the week or the time of year. Trying to buy clothes will give you migraine headaches or cause you to spend time in the nearest bar. This means you will drink too much and end up having to go to AA meetings. Plus it really cuts into your available shopping time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The safest gifts for women are expensive little bottles of scented liquids. These are sold at cosmetic counters under names such as “Eau De Water” and “Endless Nights of Heavy Petting”.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Gifts for Children&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This is really easy, you never have to figure out what to buy for kids because they will tell you, over and over and over……………… Just make sure that you get them exactly what they ask for, even if you disapprove of their choices. If the child thinks that they want Murderous Bob, the toy with the face that you can rip right off, you’d better get it. Now you may be worried that it might help to encourage the childs’ anti-social tendencies, but you have not seen anti-social tendencies until you have witnessed a child who is convinced that they have not been given the right gift.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-5025018237393320113?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/5025018237393320113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=5025018237393320113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/5025018237393320113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/5025018237393320113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/12/guide-for-holidays.html' title='Guide for the holidays........'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-7978760131184419292</id><published>2007-10-16T14:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T14:09:32.287-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Hallows Eve</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="postentry"&gt;      &lt;div class="snap_preview"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Spent sunflowers rustle in unison with the bleached cornstalks outside the window. Their bony stems and withered leaves mimic the stark silhouettes of trees rapidly losing their vestments of red, yellow and brown. Autumn passes away in the skittering leaves that fly just out of reach, like so many summer days.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Oidche Shamhna, “the night of Samhain,” approaches. The fire that lights the night on October 31 crackles brilliantly with disorder signaling harvest’s end, the end of autumn and the end of the Celtic year. As the bonfire leaps skyward, it rends the boundaries between worlds and years, stirring the souls of the dead and those yet living. When the great bonfire finally sees ashes on November 1, the new Celtic year, the winter and the season of Death have arrived.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The festival of Samhain is the origin of our contemporary “Halloween.” Too potent to be banished by time and Christianity, remnants of the original celebration remain. These “remnants” echo of still-living traditions powerful enough to open a door to the Otherworld.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Tradition without essence is meaningless, at best, empty sentimentality. The black cats, grinning pumpkins and trick-or-treats of Halloween satisfy little except a sweet tooth and possibly the temporary atmospheric appreciation of a moonlit, windy night. However, coupled with the archaic remains of the Samhain festival, these simple conventions become compelling indeed.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Marking the end of the year, Samhain heralds the disintegration of the old order and the calends of the new. Let us look at some traditions that honour the arrival of the Otherworldly host such as divinations, feasting, masquerades and the use of harvest symbols.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The harvest that began at Lughnasadh (first harvest) is seconded at Mabon , the autumnal equinox, and finds its fruition in the third and final harvest at Samhain. Fruits and nuts are the last gifts of nature to be gathered. Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit-bearing trees holds the apple as her symbol. At the horizontal centre of the apple is a five-pointed star, sacred to the Goddess. Mythologies the world over are replete with sacred fruits and precious apples, often located in otherworldly groves or gardens such as Avalon, Tir na nOg or the Garden of Eden.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Divinations at Samhain reflect the need to discern the germ of new beginnings from the whirling debris of dissolution at year-end. Both apples and nuts find an enduring role of love and fertility in these traditions. Halloween is also known as “Nutcrack Night,” for the hazel and walnuts that are placed on a fire or stove to foretell the fidelity of lovers. Hazel nuts and water are particularly divinatory, harking back to the Well of Connla, where the nine hazel trees of wisdom drop their nuts into the murmuring waters.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The predominant colour of Samhain is black. Black is the winter, the moldering leaves, the rich underworld womb to which seeds of plants and ideas close their eyes for the winter. Black is the waning moon, the magnificent darkness of the crone of wisdom, the Cailleach (Old Woman), the bone-rattling Baba Yaga(fearsome witch of Russian folklore) and our Halloween “witch.” Long sacred to the moon goddess and the world of spirit, cats find their natural place alongside the Cailleach, as well as the owl, a bird of wisdom.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Carved pumpkins are a delightful Halloween tradition, brought to the United States by 18th century Irish immigrants. The pumpkin made a good substitute for carved turnip lanterns and introduced the Jack’o'lantern to the new world.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The Feile na Marbh (”fayluh nuh morv”) is the origin of our trick-or-treat tradition. As the veil between worlds thins, all manner of spirits walk abroad on Samhain, including those of loved ones passed on. An empty chair by the fire, porridge and tobacco were left along with a candle in the window to guide the hungry ghosts home for comfort and to seek their blessing in the coming year. Spirits who found their homes less than inviting were inclined to withhold their blessing and misfortune often befell those so uncivil.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The wearing of masque and costume on Samhain is to deceive wandering spirits, lest they recognize and call you to the Otherworld before your time. Wearing masques and dressing as an animal is also very old magic for assimilating the strength and spirit of a revered creature. The carrying of noisemakers fractures the ordinary drone of this world and opens a space for Otherworldly messages to break through.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;A very old aspect of Samhain is sortilege, the act of deciding something by casting lots. While the burning ““Wicker Man” tales are probably not fact-based, it is likely that sacrifice by lot was performed throughout the ancient world. The sacrifice of a king or other designee imitated nature and dedicated life energy in a time of seasonal decline. The modern interpretation of this custom is the baking of cakes, Colcannon (mashed potatoes, cabbage with either ham or bacon) or Barmbrack (Irish spicy fruit bread) with tokens within to select a festive “Lord of Misrule” or otherwise divine the future by the type of token found inside.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;By enlivening the human senses through divination, disguise, propitiation, sound and imagery, a temenos is created, a divine common ground, wherein the ordinary and the universal exist as one. In the death of days and outlived ways of being comes renewal and the living promise of rebirth in even the darkest seasons of mortal life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This Halloween, light a candle, tell a story, embrace the beautiful chaos of Samhain - the rattling leaves are speaking to you. Blessed Be, Happy New Year.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-7978760131184419292?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7978760131184419292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=7978760131184419292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7978760131184419292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7978760131184419292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/10/all-hallows-eve.html' title='All Hallows Eve'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-6835795853658206906</id><published>2007-06-04T08:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T08:03:48.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Levity</title><content type='html'>A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him. He asked, "What are all those clocks?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie clock. Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's Hillary Clinton's clock?" asked the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hillary's clock is over there", St. Peter pointed, "We're using it as a ceiling fan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And over there is Bush's' clock, we are using it as a hedge trimmer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-6835795853658206906?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6835795853658206906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=6835795853658206906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/6835795853658206906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/6835795853658206906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/06/more-levity.html' title='More Levity'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-1618882713572327107</id><published>2007-03-27T12:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T12:03:46.278-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit of levity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt; In the year 2007, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in the&lt;br /&gt;United States, and said, "Once again, the earth has become wicked and&lt;br /&gt;overpopulated and I see the end of all flesh before me. Build another&lt;br /&gt; Ark and save two of every living thing along with a few good humans."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave Noah the blueprints, saying, "You have six months to build the&lt;br /&gt; Ark before I will start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his yard&lt;br /&gt;. . but no ark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Noah", He roared, "I'm about to start the rain! Where is the  Ark ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Forgive me, Lord," begged Noah. "But things have changed. I needed a&lt;br /&gt;building permit. I've been arguing with the inspector about the need for&lt;br /&gt;a sprinkler system. My neighbors claim that I've violated the&lt;br /&gt;neighborhood zoning laws by building the Ark  in my yard and exceeding&lt;br /&gt;the height limitations. We had to go to the Development Appeal Board for&lt;br /&gt;a decision. Then the Department of Transportation demanded a bond be&lt;br /&gt;posted for the future costs of moving power lines and other overhead&lt;br /&gt;obstructions, to clear the passage for the  Ark 's move to the sea. I&lt;br /&gt;argued that the sea would be coming to us, but they would hear nothing&lt;br /&gt;of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting the wood was another problem. There's a ban on cutting local&lt;br /&gt;trees in order to save the spotted owl. I tried to convince the&lt;br /&gt;environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the owls. But no go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started gathering the animals, I got sued by an animal rights&lt;br /&gt;group. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their&lt;br /&gt;will. As well, they argued the accommodation was too restrictive and it&lt;br /&gt;was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the EPA ruled that I couldn't build the  Ark until they'd conducted&lt;br /&gt;an environmental impact study on your proposed flood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the Human Rights Commission&lt;br /&gt;on how many minorities I'm supposed to hire for my building crew. Also,&lt;br /&gt;the trades unions say I can't use my sons. They insist I have to hire&lt;br /&gt;only Union workers with Ark  building experience. To make matters worse,&lt;br /&gt;the IRS seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country&lt;br /&gt;illegally with endangered species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least ten years for me to&lt;br /&gt;finish this Ark. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow&lt;br /&gt;stretched across the sky. Noah looked up in wonder and asked, "You mean,&lt;br /&gt;You're not going to destroy the world?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the Lord. "The government beat me to it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-1618882713572327107?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1618882713572327107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=1618882713572327107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1618882713572327107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1618882713572327107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/03/bit-of-levity.html' title='A bit of levity'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-1080353996245711467</id><published>2007-03-15T09:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T09:29:30.361-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Which Tarot card are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.flarn.com/%7Ewarlock/tarot/dragon/2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are The High Priestess&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flarn.com/%7Ewarlock/tarot/"&gt;Find out which Tarot card you are.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-1080353996245711467?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1080353996245711467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=1080353996245711467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1080353996245711467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/1080353996245711467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/03/which-tarot-card-are-you.html' title='Which Tarot card are you?'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-8172857468218834568</id><published>2007-03-13T08:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T08:13:30.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>When you think about it, words can be very funny things. Depending on the context and intent of the user, they can mean different things.&lt;br /&gt;Take the word, truth for example. The dictionary defines truth as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conformity to fact or actuality.&lt;br /&gt;A statement proven to be or accepted as true.&lt;br /&gt;Sincerity; integrity.&lt;br /&gt;Fidelity to an original or standard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality; actuality.&lt;br /&gt;often Truth That which is considered to be the supreme reality and to have the ultimate meaning and value of existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I find it amazing that people can convince themselves that they can bend, mold or ignore the meaning of words to suit a situation. Kind of the end justifying the means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I have words or the meaning of the word get stuck in my thoughts. I think of the person that has used a particular word recently, and I wonder just what their intended meaning really was. Words can be so powerful, hurtful, liberating, or deceptive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deceive is another very interesting word, ( deceive, to cause to accept as true or valid what is false or invalid ) along with one of its synonyms, beguile.&lt;br /&gt;Beguile stresses the use of charm and persuasion in deceiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally we need to stop and look at the way we use words. At the very least think about the way that words are being used by others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-8172857468218834568?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8172857468218834568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=8172857468218834568&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/8172857468218834568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/8172857468218834568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/03/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-7297233561897213746</id><published>2007-03-02T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T11:47:43.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Insanity Continues</title><content type='html'>What do I see when I go to look at news today? More coverage of the dead blond bimbo.&lt;br /&gt;Let to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-7297233561897213746?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7297233561897213746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=7297233561897213746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7297233561897213746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/7297233561897213746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/03/insanity-continues.html' title='The Insanity Continues'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-117258207492711448</id><published>2007-02-27T08:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T08:14:34.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppet Theatre</title><content type='html'>The talking heads on the so called news have latched onto more crap. Who really gives a crap about a dead blond druggie Marilyn Monroe wanna be?  Other than her family?&lt;br /&gt;Who really cares if another blond druggie wants to shave her head and get a tattoo?&lt;br /&gt;This crap is news? Not by a long shot.&lt;br /&gt;But the folks who pull the strings of the talking heads are focusing on this manure and presenting it like it really was news. What about the real things that are going on in this country and the rest of the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just a newer version of the old bait and switch. A person turns on the news expecting, well news. Instead they get a load of crap. The same sort of nonsense that is discussed in beauty shops, which is where it belongs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-117258207492711448?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/117258207492711448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=117258207492711448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/117258207492711448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/117258207492711448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/puppet-theatre.html' title='Puppet Theatre'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-117034089877362940</id><published>2007-02-01T09:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T09:41:38.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a thought</title><content type='html'>For a while I thought about just abandoning this blog, but in retrospect I think that I will use this as a medium to post things that I feel do not belong on the blog I keep about our gulch.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just need to rant about things,  and those just do not belong in my gulch blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this will serve a different purpose , and probably a good one. It will help to keep me sane in an ever increasingly insane world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-117034089877362940?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/117034089877362940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=117034089877362940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/117034089877362940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/117034089877362940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/just-thought.html' title='Just a thought'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-116412214968226614</id><published>2006-11-21T10:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T10:15:49.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Just to keep this site up and current.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-116412214968226614?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/116412214968226614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=116412214968226614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/116412214968226614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/116412214968226614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114815033081183068</id><published>2006-05-20T14:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T14:38:52.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving the blog</title><content type='html'>Since many people could no longer view my blog, I have moved it.&lt;br /&gt;Road Kill Cafe now lives at: &lt;a href="http://morrigantoo.wordpress.com/"&gt;Road Kill Cafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will no longer be posting here at blogspot, but I will leave this up for a while.&lt;br /&gt;Come see me in&lt;a href="http://morrigantoo.wordpress.com/"&gt; my new digs!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114815033081183068?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114815033081183068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114815033081183068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114815033081183068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114815033081183068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/moving-blog.html' title='Moving the blog'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114786757786604922</id><published>2006-05-17T07:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T08:06:17.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birds</title><content type='html'>A mama bird built a nest on top of a post in the corner of our front porch. She laid her eggs and had a bumper crop of babies. They are getting big, almost crowding each other out of the nest.&lt;br /&gt;I have a good view of the nest from our bedroom window. While the mama bird was fliying to and fro feeding her family, I counted six baby birds in that nest. How they manage not to knock each other out onto the porch floor below is a mystery. Much less how the mama bird manages to get in that nest with them at night.&lt;br /&gt;It is intresting watching her fly to and fro trying to keep all those babies fed. It is just about all she does during the day. &lt;br /&gt;I'll bet she will be glad when they are out on their own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114786757786604922?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114786757786604922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114786757786604922&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114786757786604922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114786757786604922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/birds.html' title='Birds'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114761593603127899</id><published>2006-05-14T09:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T10:12:16.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>I will warn you that I tend to wax nostalgic about stuff like this. I have fond memories of my children and grandchildren. They are tucked away into a special place in my heart. It is a place with memories that are as fresh as when they were brand new.&lt;br /&gt;I can recall some of my most treasured moments. The way it feels when a baby snuggles up and drifts off to sleep, the contentedness of time seeming to stop while nursing. The joys of milestones reached. The first time they roll over, crawl and those first steps.........chubby baby arms reaching up for you, bright eyes and gummy smiles.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is hard to believe that all those things exist now only as memories, it seems like yesterday that I had my babies safe around me, and now they all have babies of their own. And they live so far away, my tender mothers heart is really missing them.&lt;br /&gt;This will be a Mothers day like no other, the first one away from all my children. But the memory hole is full. Clumsy drawings with uneven printing, homemade heartfelt cards, hugs and kisses that smell of peanutbutter. All safely tucked away to be treasured but brought out to be enjoyed again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114761593603127899?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114761593603127899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114761593603127899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114761593603127899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114761593603127899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mothers Day'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114734693858253523</id><published>2006-05-11T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T07:28:58.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Strange Thing</title><content type='html'>happened the other day when I was at Wal Mart. I had gone in to pick up a few things, the store was not overly busy, but I have a talent for finding the slowest check out. The line can be moving right along, I get into it and it slows down or stops completely.&lt;br /&gt;So I was standing in my slow line, finally it was my turn to put my stuff up to be checked out. No hello, good afternoon, nothing......just a quick look at me and then my items, and the cashier began to scan my items. As I was waiting for the process to be over, I was putting the bags into the cart. The cashier gave me my total, I paid, then put a couple more bags in the cart. But I knew I had purchased more than what I had in the cart bagged up. So I went looking for the other bags. They were at the cashiers' feet, I looked at her strangely and asked for the rest of my bags. She said that those were left by another customer and I had all my purchases. &lt;br /&gt;I know that I didn't have everything, and asked her again for the bags. She told me that if I didn't leave she would call a manager. I looked her square in the eye and said, go ahead and call a mamager, and the store manager had better be one of them. A mamager shortly showed up and asked what the problem was, the cashier repilede that I wouldn't leave. The manager asked me if there was a problem. I told her that I would be happy to leave if I could get the rest of the things I had paid for, and pointed to the bags at the cashiers feet. Then I requested the store manager again.&lt;br /&gt;When he finally showed up, I handed him my recipt, and told him I didn't have all my purchases, once again pointing to the area around the cashiers feet. They began checking what I had in the cart against the recipt, and guess what? A lot of things were missing. So they moved on to the bags the cashier had put down by her feet. And there was the rest of my groceries.&lt;br /&gt;I got profuse apologies from the management and the cashier was escorted to the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are people getting so desperate that they are trying to steal in this fashion? It really makes me wonder.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114734693858253523?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114734693858253523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114734693858253523&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114734693858253523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114734693858253523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/strange-thing.html' title='A Strange Thing'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114700477625982922</id><published>2006-05-07T08:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T10:13:24.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Derby Day</title><content type='html'>We spent most of the day yesterday watching the sights and races via a local TV channel (who was providing coverage and commentary). There were thousands of people at Churchill Downs on a bright and sunny Saturday for the Run for the Roses. One of the traditions of race day is to dress up in your finest, and that MUST include a hat. Especially for the ladies. This hat thing is truly a big deal. Most of the hats are custom made, either by the wearer or a hat shop. They were very intresting to watch, but the outfits are secondary to the hat.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say the horses were definately things of beauty. It was captivating to watch them in the races, stretching out in long strides. It was easy to see that the horses were eager to run.&lt;br /&gt;Today is, so far, overcast and gray. Such a contrast to yesterday. However it does bring a mental image, somewhat fitting I suppose, for the empty grounds of the track. Yesterday there was sunshine, blue skies and crowds of happy people. Today gray skies and only the echoes of the revelry and competition............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114700477625982922?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114700477625982922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114700477625982922&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114700477625982922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114700477625982922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/derby-day.html' title='Derby Day'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114674561456700148</id><published>2006-05-04T08:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T08:26:54.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For Lewlew</title><content type='html'>In the garden we have planted&lt;br /&gt;sweet corn&lt;br /&gt;green beans&lt;br /&gt;peas&lt;br /&gt;lettuce&lt;br /&gt;carrots&lt;br /&gt;radishes&lt;br /&gt;cucumbers&lt;br /&gt;pickling cucumbers&lt;br /&gt;green onions&lt;br /&gt;yellow onions&lt;br /&gt;cabbage&lt;br /&gt;potatoes&lt;br /&gt;sunflowers&lt;br /&gt;pumpkins&lt;br /&gt;dill&lt;br /&gt;tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;I also have a seperate herb garden that has basil, parsley, mints, oregano and cilantro.&lt;br /&gt;I am keeping my fingers crossed that we have a good harvest and are able to preserve most of it for the winter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114674561456700148?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114674561456700148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114674561456700148&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114674561456700148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114674561456700148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/for-lewlew.html' title='For Lewlew'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114648461280931355</id><published>2006-05-01T07:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T07:56:52.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Garden</title><content type='html'>On a warm and breezy afternoon I was communing with nature. Striving to be a part of the bird song, the buzzing of the bees, and the gentle babble of the creek. I was becoming part of it all, becoming one with the soil in the garden..........ok so I was actually becoming more of a dirt ball....but it sounded so much better the other way.&lt;br /&gt;However, I am happy to report that the garden has been planted. So now I will keep my fingers crossed that we have a good result and pray it doesn't get eaten off by a bunch of rabbits or deer.&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after the garden was finished it began to rain. Then we had showers off and on all day Sunday. Hopefully that will give the garden a jump start, now we could use some sunshine, but showers are in the forecast again today. But we might get some sunshine in between.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114648461280931355?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114648461280931355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114648461280931355&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114648461280931355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114648461280931355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/05/garden.html' title='The Garden'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114607686753922810</id><published>2006-04-26T14:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T14:41:07.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wildlife</title><content type='html'>We have been watching with intrest and amusement a family of wild turkeys in the hayfield. There are five hens, a jake and a grand old man. We first saw them after we had the dogs inside all day because of the rain. As the hayfield gets higher, they get closer. The shorter grass near our house must make finding bugs easier. Yesterday they were just on the other side of the fence that surrounds our yard. They scatter and retreat for the woods with any sign of noise or movement from our yard, but seem curiously ambivilant to cars going by on the road.&lt;br /&gt;There are precious few places where you could so easily observe wildthings just living their lives. I consider it just one of the blessings our gulch has bestowed upon us.&lt;br /&gt;Last winter it was not unusual to look out first thing in the morning and see deer in that same hayfield, some came as close as the creek that runs behind our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small things perhaps, but huge pleasures for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114607686753922810?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114607686753922810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114607686753922810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114607686753922810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114607686753922810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/wildlife.html' title='Wildlife'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114564367341364923</id><published>2006-04-21T13:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T14:46:55.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Before and After</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/PCDV0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/320/PCDV0002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a view of the dining area, before.&lt;br /&gt;Can it get much darker? Note the sun is shining outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/PCDV0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/320/PCDV0004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the working area, before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/PCDV014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/320/PCDV0014.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dining area, after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/PCDV0018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/320/PCDV0018.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working area, after.&lt;br /&gt;Jeff2 added under cabinet lighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114564367341364923?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114564367341364923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114564367341364923&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114564367341364923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114564367341364923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/before-and-after.html' title='Before and After'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114562437426878990</id><published>2006-04-21T08:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T08:59:34.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April Showers</title><content type='html'>may bring May flowers, but it turns the garden plot to mud.&lt;br /&gt;It rained off and on all day yesterday, so much for getting out and mowing the yard. It is supposed to rain again today. One of the good things though is that it adds water to the cistern, since this is our water supply, it is a very good thing. And our world is getting greener every day. The view just keeps getting better.&lt;br /&gt;I spent part of the day yesterday watching wild turkeys in the hayfield. Since the dogs were in the house most of the day the turkeys ventured very close. They are entertaining to watch, and it is turkey season here, but all I saw were hens and it is not legal to take them in the spring.&lt;br /&gt;It appears that the grass is growing by inches everyday, so when I am able to get out and mow I may need a haybaler............but at least we don't have to worry about drought conditions.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that I will have to find some more indoor projects to keep myself busy and I am in the mood to bake. Unfortunately with just the two of us here, it is very easy to go into overload of freshly baked goods. Anyone want some fresh bread?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114562437426878990?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114562437426878990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114562437426878990&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114562437426878990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114562437426878990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-showers.html' title='April Showers'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114553414427215158</id><published>2006-04-20T07:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T07:55:44.320-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A day at the gulch</title><content type='html'>Yesterday started with a fantastic thunderstorm. In the pre dawn with the sky just begining to lighten it was easy to see the black clouds rolling in. The flashes of lightning were piercingly brilliant and the thunder crashed and reverbrated back and forth between the hills that guard this valley. There was also some wind to go with the rain. What a show to go with my morning coffee!&lt;br /&gt;The storm moved on as quickly as it blew in and before noon the sky was clear, the temperature rising into the upper 70's and we had a lovely breeze.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately due to the morning rain, the garden didn't get turned, but we needed the rain so it was all good. We are just  about ready to get the garden planted. Jeff2 has done a great job with getting it ready and I am looking forward to getting the seeds in the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also replaced the storm door on the front of the house with a screen door. It was lovely to have the breeze come in through it. It will be nice when the summer heat is here to have that large opening for the air to move through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we had finished installing the screen door the old timer that stops and chats with us stopped by. He always has intresting stories and infomation to pass along, and it is enjoyable to chat with him. He had had a tough Sunday. His four wheeel drive truck had quit on him, his horses had gotten out of their pasture and his dog had died. He spoke fondly of his old friend and had added that would not get another dog. He left with an invitation for us to stop by and see him. I don't think I even know this mans name, I am sure that he introduced himself to Jeff2, so I will have to ask him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass has grown amazingly quickly, especially after yesterdays rain, so I will be out mowing later this morning. And so another day begins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114553414427215158?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114553414427215158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114553414427215158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114553414427215158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114553414427215158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/day-at-gulch.html' title='A day at the gulch'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114522257988611900</id><published>2006-04-16T15:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T17:22:59.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices and Consequences</title><content type='html'>The young man lay dying. He knew this to be a fact, he knew he was mortally wounded.&lt;br /&gt;An older man approached him, this surprised him as everyone he knew was either dead or dying, and this man was in perfect health.&lt;br /&gt;"Who are you?" the young man asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I am you." the older man answered simply.&lt;br /&gt;"How can that be, I am dying......I won't live to be old."&lt;br /&gt;The older man settled down beside the younger man, and made himself comfortable before replying.&lt;br /&gt;"Because in a different life you made a different choice."&lt;br /&gt;"You're crazy" the younger man replied "How can that be, I am right here, and I know that I am done for."&lt;br /&gt;"See, what you don't understand is that you have had this choice before, and you chose differently." The older man appeared to be lost in remembering.&lt;br /&gt;Then a great saddness came over him, an almost visible weight that made him appear even older.........&lt;br /&gt;"Because in my lifetime, you chose to live. You decided that being alive was more important than being true to yourself. You decided that it was better to believe whatever you were told, instead of thinking for yourself." the old man replied.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't believe you." the younger man answered "I wouldn't do that."&lt;br /&gt;"You decided," the older man continued as if he hadn't heard, "that no matter what you had to do, you would live."&lt;br /&gt;The older man was quiet for a moment and tears came into his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"You betrayed your friends, your morals and even your family. You turned a blind eye to what was really happening, as long as you could live. You watched as the world turned upside down, caring more for yourself than for anyone else. Your fear of being different, of being noticed, of what "they" could do to you was more important than finding out the truth. It was more important than acting on what you knew was right. It was more important than protecting your friends and your family. It was more important than taking responsibility for yourself. Of standing for something. "&lt;br /&gt;The old man stopped for a moment. Wracked by sobs, he was having trouble speaking.&lt;br /&gt;Finally he began again, "So you lived a long time. But you lived without your friends and your family. You were totally alone, but you were alive. It took a long time for you to realise that there is so much more to really living than just drawing breath. All of your life it was others who told you what to do, where to go and how to live. Finally, finally you realized that what you had bought when you sold out was existance, not life. As a result you became a slave, a certified numbered, poked and prodded piece of chattel."&lt;br /&gt;The old man shifted his position, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat.&lt;br /&gt;"Then you began to remember and to think. You remembered your family and your friends. You finally felt regret. You finally remembered that standing up is better than being led. That being alive doesn't mean a damn thing if you sell out. "&lt;br /&gt;The old man shifted his position again so he could look the younger man in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;"You finally remembered that you had a choice, that your life didn't have to be an empty and meaningless series of days and routines. So you went back to that moment when you made that choice to sell out, to save yourself. You and your friends decided that to sacrifice yourselves to save your families was the only moral and meaningful decision. So, here I am............ here I am again, but with a different choice. In my lifetime all this was swept under the carpet, because I sold everyone out, and no one knew what happened here."&lt;br /&gt;The old man shook his head and pointed, "Look around you; you and your friends gave your lives to save others, to save your families. This time this will not go unnoticed, things will begin to change, because with your sacrifice you gave people hope. They will see that change is possible, and necessary. Oh, not all of them, but enough."&lt;br /&gt;"So what are you going to do?" the younger man asked.&lt;br /&gt;Quietly the older man answered, " Do what I should have done instead of being a selfish coward. I will die here with you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114522257988611900?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114522257988611900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114522257988611900&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114522257988611900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114522257988611900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/choices-and-consequences.html' title='Choices and Consequences'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114519203613733305</id><published>2006-04-16T08:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T08:53:56.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Springtime stuff</title><content type='html'>I spent most of yesterday mowing and doing laundry.&lt;br /&gt;The yard is filling in so well, and we have wonderful patches of low growing violets covering the yard. We were going to put out some weednfeed, but I can't bring myself to probably kill off those beautiful little flowers. Fortunately they are low enough that they don't get cut off with the mower. We have dandelions as well, but they are bright and colorful, so we will just live with them. Unless they decide to take over........&lt;br /&gt;The yard looks so pretty after it is freshly cut. That deep green accented by the wonderful purple of the violets is truly one of natures works of art.&lt;br /&gt;I mowed both inside and outside the fence that surrounds the yard, then Jeff2 used the tractor and bush hog to mow the pasture. Ahh, the scent of freshly mowed grass in the sunshine. The leaves on the trees are getting bigger every day, and even the walnut trees are begining to wear a veil of new leaves. Walnut trees are usually among the last trees to leaf out in the spring.&lt;br /&gt;We had, once again, a marvelous breeze and it really helped to dry all the laundry on the clothesline. I am probably certifiable, but I love to hang out the laundry and see it flopping in the breeze. And the clothes smell so wonderful dried this way. It is a fragrance that just can't be put in a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;When we were planning on the move here, I knew that I would enjoy it. I never dreamed how much I would fall in love with a house and the land surrounding it. Even all the blood, sweat and tears we have put into it so far pale in comparison to the love I have for this place. It makes all the work of fixing, painting and the like so very worthwhile. It is incredibly easy to lose track of time and dates, those things just don't hold the significance that they used to. We eat when we are hungry, go to bed when we are tired and get up when we are rested. Right now we are just lovin' life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114519203613733305?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114519203613733305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114519203613733305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114519203613733305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114519203613733305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/more-springtime-stuff.html' title='More Springtime stuff'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114509747366460580</id><published>2006-04-15T06:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T06:37:53.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Warmer Weather</title><content type='html'>I think that spring has truly found us. Our world is turning green and the thermometer hit 84 yesterday. There was a wonderful breeze that streamed in through the windows and kept the house comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;The garden is almost ready for planting, and I am looking forward to getting the seeds in the ground. In my minds eye I can see it all growing...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice visit with Jeff2's dad and stepmom. They really liked our little gulch. It was nice to see them and visit with family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here in the pre dawn, I can see the beginnings of the daylight steal across the sky and hear the signing of the birds. It goes well with with my morning coffee, and is a nice way to begin a new day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114509747366460580?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114509747366460580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114509747366460580&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114509747366460580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114509747366460580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/warmer-weather.html' title='Warmer Weather'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114458235822627358</id><published>2006-04-09T07:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T07:32:38.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day off</title><content type='html'>We spent yesterday at the Knob Creek machinegun shoot. It was a wonderful experience, even though the day started off overcast, cool and very damp.&lt;br /&gt;We arrived around 10 am and there were already lots of people there, we tramped through the mud to the range and one of the first things that I experienced was the distant sound of gunfire. As we got closer the smell of spent gunpowder was thick in the air. What an exciting aroma......&lt;br /&gt;In between the shooting exhibitions we wander aroung the myriad of stalls selling everything from guns, ammo, holsters and the like to clothing.&lt;br /&gt;Even though it was crowded, there was no pushing or shoving, if someone did happen to push against you there was inevidably a "pardon me" or "excuse me". I am definately not one for crowds, but I didn't mind this at all. For the most part people were friendly and polite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the best things I experienced was when they were firing the Howitzer. You could not only hear it, you could feel the concussion. There were many targets for the shooters, everything from buckets, to cars, boats, large kitchen appliances and an old semi-trailer. It was fun to watch them all slowly dissapear from being hit with different caliber rounds and flame throwers. The trailer caught fire from being hit with tracers and lent a smoky atmosphere to the rest of the targets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun came out around noon and really helped to take the chill off. It was shortly after we had lunch that we were able to get closer to the fence that seperates the shooters from the audience. So we had an excellent view of this round of shooting. We were also a lot closer to where the Howitzer was. It was so very cool to watch it being loaded and fired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all a very good day. This is an event that I look forward to attending again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114458235822627358?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114458235822627358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114458235822627358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114458235822627358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114458235822627358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/day-off.html' title='Day off'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114449464879459015</id><published>2006-04-08T06:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T07:10:50.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen Floor</title><content type='html'>We got the new floor tiles installed yesterday. It really looks great. We still need to do the baseboard, but that is a minor thing next to the flooring. The kitchen is almost complete! With such minor things left to do to it, I am proud to say that it looks wonderful. When it is completely done, we will post before and after pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had some rockin' thunderstorms yesterday. While taking a break, we watched as quarter sized hail fell amid the flashes of lightning and claps of thunder. It was a wild weather afternoon, and we got some more thunderstorms later in the evening. It is supposed to be much cooler today, then start warming up again. The trees are all beginning to leaf out, and I am anxiously awaiting how our valley looks with everything green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are taking the day off today, then we will be back to doing more stuff. Jeff2 is going to be building the shelves in our "media room" to house our movie collection. I am looking forward to having that done and getting rid of some more boxes. Hopefully we will have that done before his dad and step mom are here sometime next week. They will be our second visitors since we bought the gulch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good week end!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114449464879459015?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114449464879459015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114449464879459015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114449464879459015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114449464879459015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/kitchen-floor.html' title='Kitchen Floor'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114432451150766632</id><published>2006-04-06T07:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T07:55:11.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>General Things</title><content type='html'>We have been working on some general stuff here lately.&lt;br /&gt;Jeff2 has been working the soil almost daily in the garden plot. There was lots of grass and weeds to be dealt with since the land has sat idle for over a decade. It is really looking good now. Hopefully after this latest cool spell we will be able to start getting seed in the ground. I am looking forward to seeing vegetable plants springing up. We are planning to do planting of some things in stages, so that not all of one crop is ready to harvest all at once. It will make the process of picking, canning and freezing a little easier not having to deal the total volume all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yard is really begining to look a whole lot nicer as well. Many years of semi-neglect had left it in need. Over grown bushes by the house have been trimmed, the one hugely over grown monstrosity taken out, strange looking things growing in front of windows cut down and a general clean up have made such a difference.&lt;br /&gt;The grass is filling in nicely, and has already become to difficult to mow with the people powered lawn mower. So I had to admit defeat and get a gas powered lawn mower. That was a blow to my ego since I didn't want to have to depend on having gas to be able to mow the yard. I am still aching from the side I did do with push mower. I spend more time on that small section with the push mower than I did on the whole thing with the gas mower. It did n't help that I had to go over what I had already cut with the push mower because the cut was so uneven. But I got over my angst when I saw the finished product. It looks great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to go out this morning and do some more mowing outside the fence around the yard, but Jeff2 just looked at the radar and the rain that was expected this afternoon is already moving in, so that will have to wait until later.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that I will have to find some inside things to do today, not that there is any lack of those things to do either. I have touch up painting to do, both in the kitchen and in the hallway. It has been a little while so the "sick of painting" syndrome has eased quite a bit, and I do want to see the touch ups done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114432451150766632?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114432451150766632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114432451150766632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114432451150766632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114432451150766632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/general-things.html' title='General Things'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114398704295613819</id><published>2006-04-02T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T10:10:43.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Local Flea Market</title><content type='html'>We had heard on our local radio station that one of the flea markets was due to open for the season this last Saturday. I love flea markets with the endless variety of goods, everything from junk to fresh local produce. So it was with much anticipation that we went. We were not dissapointed.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was a beautiful day with lots of sunshine, warm temperatures and a slight breeze. The flea market is held at the local drive in movie theater. ( The theater is due to open on the 14th )&lt;br /&gt;Some enterprising souls had been busy in their greenhouses and there were fresh tomatoes and the like in one of the stalls. Then we came across a couple selling fresh, free range eggs. Just an unassuming little stall with nothing but cartons of eggs for sale. Curious, I asked how much they were selling the eggs for, and was surprised when they replied, $1.00 a dozen. I bought two.&lt;br /&gt;We moved on looking at all the other stuff. Jeff2 found an older brace, which the stallholder sold to him for the price of $3.00.&lt;br /&gt;A little further along the way we ran across another stall that had quite a variety of general stuff. I spied a canister set that was made to look like old milk cans. They are ceramic and generously sized. The price sticker said $6.00. As I picked one up to have a closer look the stall holder came up and said if I wanted them she would let them go for $5.00. Sold. Upon further inspection they were made by a local craftsman with their initials carved in the bottom. They are things of beauty. We will definately be going back there again, and often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I had some of those fresh eggs for breakfast. It was with much anticipation that I heated a pan over medium heat and then melted some butter in it. The eggs themselves were glorious, large brown objects of beauty. I cracked the first one open and was rewarded with a thing of true culinary joy. True to it being fresh it did not spread in the pan, and the yolk was a wonderful golden color. The other egg proved to be just as much a work of art. Carefully I seasoned them with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. I flipped them over, ever so gently, not being a fan of sunny side up. I had forgotten just how much flavor there is in fresh eggs. The palate does truly remember. I had not had fresh eggs since I left home lo those many eons ago.&lt;br /&gt;For years I was not a fan of eggs, and if I ate them they were camoflaged in as many other flavors as I could come up with. These were fantastic with just the compliment of salt, pepper and butter. After the first incredible bite, I didn't just eat them, I savored them. Slowly. The only other thing I ate with them was some whole wheat toast with butter.&lt;br /&gt;It was one of the best breakfasts that I have had in a very long time. I will be buying my eggs from now on from these people. At least until I have chickens of my own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114398704295613819?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114398704295613819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114398704295613819&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114398704295613819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114398704295613819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/local-flea-market.html' title='Local Flea Market'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114372024204036369</id><published>2006-03-30T06:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T07:04:02.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gardens Beginings</title><content type='html'>We have a good bit of area turned for a garden. Jeff2 made good use of the tractor and cultivator.&lt;br /&gt;We learned from an old timer that this place used to have a great garden but it has lain unused for well over 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;The space we chose for the garden surely does reflect that fact. However the soil is turning over fairly easily, now we just have to work out the clumps of grass and weeds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still have some other projects to do outside. There are bushes that need to be trimmed and some general clean up. Plus it would be nice to have some flowers and I want to start a rhubarb patch. And an herb garden. And get some fruit trees planted.&lt;br /&gt;Then there is plenty of work to do in the house, shelves to build, more painting. But we are making progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114372024204036369?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114372024204036369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114372024204036369&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114372024204036369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114372024204036369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/gardens-beginings.html' title='The Gardens Beginings'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114320152898579306</id><published>2006-03-24T06:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T06:58:49.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Curtains</title><content type='html'>I spent most of the day yesterday making curtains for the kitchen windows. They look great. In keeping with my fifties diner theme, they are large red and white check. I am really very pleased with the way they turned out. It sure makes the kitchen more homey than bare windows. I can hardly wait to get the new floor tiles down. It is going to look so good!&lt;br /&gt;After all the complaining I did about painting, I am so glad that I did most of it myself. It really feels as if I have put a bit of myself into this room. It is what I had envisioned for this space in this house. It is just so exciting to see it coming together, and so very different from the dark, cold space that it was. Bright, cheery and a space you would want to spend time in.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I will have an update on the flooring soon, then I will be posting before and after pics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114320152898579306?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114320152898579306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114320152898579306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114320152898579306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114320152898579306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/curtains.html' title='Curtains'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114303521288728921</id><published>2006-03-22T08:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T08:49:33.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The battle of the bush</title><content type='html'>No not that bush.&lt;br /&gt;The hugely over grown monstrosity trying to take over the yard. We hacked at it with a chain saw to try and work our way to its' interior. Once inside we found not one but two main root bundles.&lt;br /&gt;Jeff2 finally had to go and bring the tractor with a scraper blade attachment into the yard. Even with this we were unable to dislodge the root bundles from the ground. So we will just build a fire around them and burn them out.&lt;br /&gt;Then we had to haul all of the branches etc out into the pasture. I was begining to think I was never going to see the end of that bush.&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, I couldn't believe my eyes when during my latest visit to home improvement store that people were taking cart loads of this same bush to plant at home. They could have had mine for free.&lt;br /&gt;Then we got hit with another shot of winter so the out door projects are on hold again for the moment. But that is ok too, we still have to lay the new floor tiles in the kitchen and I have to make the curtains.&lt;br /&gt;We did get a clothesline put up and I am looking forward to putting it to use.&lt;br /&gt;But at least that bush is gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114303521288728921?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114303521288728921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114303521288728921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114303521288728921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114303521288728921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/battle-of-bush.html' title='The battle of the bush'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114277221902823510</id><published>2006-03-19T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T07:43:39.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More on V</title><content type='html'>I just read the very acid review of the movie V for Vendetta on World Net Daily. No I won't provide a link, if you are curious look it up.&lt;br /&gt;Suffice it to say that the reviewers are looking at the world through Christian colored black glasses, but you have to look with better eyes than that. I think that if I viewed the world through those glasses I would off myself. What a sad way to live.&lt;br /&gt;There are many things in this movie that are so very true, but the statists don't want to see them. Actually they refuse to see them and brandish their own brand of hate and fear to try and color your opinion.&lt;br /&gt;One of the things that is presented in the movie is that "There is something terribly wrong with this country", a fact that no logical reasoning person could dispute. That is if they had enough guts to say it out loud. Or even allowed themselves the gift of an independent thought. However this would never occur to the go along to get along crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be different, go see it for yourself, draw your own conclusions. Just check your Christian colored glasses at the door and view it with an open mind, if you can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114277221902823510?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114277221902823510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114277221902823510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114277221902823510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114277221902823510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/more-on-v.html' title='More on V'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114268503459420947</id><published>2006-03-18T05:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T07:30:36.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>V for Vendetta</title><content type='html'>We saw this movie yesterday, and I thought it was great. All reviews to the contrary. But beware, if you still possess a brain cell that functions independently, this will get you to using said brain cell.&lt;br /&gt;I also discovered something else. A lot of people live their lives out of fear. They do many of the things they do, out of fear. And I think that most of them don't even realise it.&lt;br /&gt;They fear being different. They fear consequences, even when they are not sure just what those consequences may be. They fear asking questions, maybe because they fear the answers. They do what they are told by "authority figures" usually with out question. Even if they do muster enough courage to ask a question, they are satisfied with some contrite answer constructed to appease them, and they go their merry way.&lt;br /&gt;There was one line from this movie that I thought was very intresting.&lt;br /&gt;"People should not fear their governments, governments should fear their people."&lt;br /&gt;That is so true. How many people living in this land of the free fear the government? Most of them. They are movtivated by fear of the consequences if they do not do as they are told, they fear losing what they have, they fear living their lives responsibly. They have been conditioned to respond to various stimuli like rats in a maze. Or a pavlovian dog.&lt;br /&gt;If you have children, just think of what you are exposing them to without thinking. When they are born, they get a number that will mark them for the rest of their lives and follow them everywhere. You cannot function with out it. People used to live the whole of their lives with out this number, but not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Babies are pumped full of innoculations preserved with mercury, for their own good, so they don't have to suffer through diseases. But just what does all that mercury do to their little brains and bodies? Sure I have read that vaccines are made with out mercury preservatives, but do you really believe that? Why do you have to sign an informed consent form for them to get the shots? Have you ever taken the time to read this form, or have you just signed it after having some nurse or doctor tell you to? Just look at some of the evidence all around you. Just why is childhood autism on the rise? Humm, could it be a side effect of having a newborn body pumped full of poison, and regularly reinforced with booster shots?&lt;br /&gt;Then when they are old enough children are placed in government indoctrination centers, err, I mean public schools. Suddenly, because they are kids even if they have survived the mercury poisioning, it is recommended that they get put on drugs. The teachers say it is because they are disruptive, the doctors say it is because of some alphabet syndrome. So it is recommended that they get drugged into compliance. Think about it, how many kids did you know when you were one, who were given drugs to control their behavior? None if you are as old as I am.&lt;br /&gt;But just why is this happening? Fear. The kid will not be allowed to go to a daycare center or a public school ( or even a private school ) with out their number and their shots.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I really am getting old, but I remember a time when you couldn't use your SSN for ID. The card itself had that printed on it, the government itself said that this number would never be used for such a purpose. Just try to do much of anything these days without giving that number.&lt;br /&gt;When you leave your house today think of just what you are carrying with you. Do you have your government sanctioned papers to prove who you are? Specifically do you have your drivers license and social security card? Are you getting into your properly licensed, registered, insured and inspected vehicle? Are you taking your properly numbered and vaccinated child to a properly licensed day care facility, or dropping them off at the government approved and funded "learning facility"? Have they had their approved dose of medication?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me then that you live without fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114268503459420947?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114268503459420947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114268503459420947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114268503459420947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114268503459420947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/v-for-vendetta.html' title='V for Vendetta'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114251275879973397</id><published>2006-03-16T07:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T07:39:20.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring</title><content type='html'>Mother Nature is playing her slow changing seasons game. We have had some glorious warm weather and rain. As a result the world is begining to turn green. It gives me the urge to get out into the yard to do some pruning and general clean up. Then she gives us a shot of much cooler weather.&lt;br /&gt;Well I still have some in door projects to finish, so maybe the return of cooler weather is not so bad after all. We still need to get the new floor installed in the kitchen, and I need to make the curtains. Last weeks battle of the abcessed tooth put me behind on those things.&lt;br /&gt;Since we bought this place late last fall after all the plants had lost their leaves it is not easy to tell just what type of stuff I have growing in the yard. I can hardly wait until everything leafs out to give me more of a clue.&lt;br /&gt;I do know that I have a huge bush of some type taking over the yard on the north side of the house. That thing is going to get severely cut back or taken out completely. The area that it covers is massive and it needs to be tamed.&lt;br /&gt;I also want to get a clothes line put up. We get a beautiful breeze through this valley and I can see no logical reason the pay the electric company to dry my clothes when the breeze can do it for free. Plus the clothes smell so much better dried in the sun and the wind. Yes I know, I am old fashioned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114251275879973397?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114251275879973397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114251275879973397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114251275879973397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114251275879973397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/spring.html' title='Spring'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114225027121316412</id><published>2006-03-13T06:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T06:44:31.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>Sorry about the lack of posts last week. I was trying to see just how much pain I could take before losing my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I had an abcessed tooth, and we all know how much fun they can be. I woke up one morning with one side of my face trying to do a basketball imitation. Or at least that's how it felt.&lt;br /&gt;I finally got in to see a nurse practitioner. I guess she was surprised that I was actually still on my feet, after she looked in my mouth at the offending tooth. Just one of the benefits of being a tough old broad, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;So she hooked me up with some antibiotics that looked like you needed to insert them somewhere, instead of swallowing them. And some pain pills. I had been taking enough ibuprophen to increase their stock price, with no relief. I had high hopes for the pain meds. It was as tiny as the antibiotics were huge. But at least it worked.&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I should be good to go, finally. I still have a bit of swelling and minor discomfort. After I finish off the antibiotics, I am going to have that damn tooth pulled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114225027121316412?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114225027121316412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114225027121316412&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114225027121316412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114225027121316412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/hello.html' title='Hello'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114155784119947724</id><published>2006-03-05T06:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T08:29:19.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something a little different</title><content type='html'>I'll step out of my DIY world for a bit here....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have the time to read a longish short story, this one is well worth your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.abelard.org/e-f-russell.htm"&gt;'And Then There Were None' by Eric Frank Russell&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just gives you something to think about. I hope you have time to read and enjoy it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114155784119947724?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114155784119947724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114155784119947724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114155784119947724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114155784119947724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/something-little-different.html' title='Something a little different'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114130055222166644</id><published>2006-03-02T06:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T06:55:52.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Painting?</title><content type='html'>Well, I think I am finally done painting in the kitchen. I have used gallons of primer and paint. I have almost turned myself into the tin man. And, for the moment, I am heartily sick of painting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to finish re-hanging the cupboard doors today. Then a general clean up. A day or two (maybe) of rest, then we are going to lay the new floor tiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The material that was ordered for the curtains should be here by the end of the week, then I can start making the curtains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, at least the painting is done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114130055222166644?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114130055222166644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114130055222166644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114130055222166644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114130055222166644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/more-painting.html' title='More Painting?'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114087165008843663</id><published>2006-02-25T07:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T07:47:31.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting</title><content type='html'>I am turning into the painting queen.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the ceiling in the kitchen, boy am I glad that is done! Ceilings are horrible things to paint because of the angle to have to work at. Plus I was painting over a rough crows foot pattern....with very liquidy paint.&lt;br /&gt;I had originally wanted a tin ceiling in the kitchen, but the price of the tin ceiling tiles put my heart into spasms. But I still wanted the look of the tin ceiling. So we got some metal flake aluminum fence paint. The finished look is fantastic! To look at it you would think that it is a tinned ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Painting with a very liquid paint over a rough surface with a very fluffy roller was an experience. One I do not recommend for the faint of heart. Thankfully it covered in one coat. But by the time I was finished I looked like the tin man from the Wizard of Oz!&lt;br /&gt;Today on to the walls! I will be very happy to see that dark paneling covered up by white. I did a test spot so I know that it will take two coats of Kills primer and then one of the gloss white. I just hope that my arms don't fall off. As stiif and sore as I am this morning after doing battle with the ceiling yesterday, I probably won't be able to move tomorrow morning, and there is till more painting to be done after that. Trim and the cupboards, which are also a dark color. But I can see how nice it will look when I am all done! That keeps me going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all the painting is done, then we will be putting in new floor tile. After that I will be making the curtains. In my minds eye I can see it finished, I just wish I could wigggle my nose and it would be done. Not really, because the experience of changing it from what it was to what it will be, even with all the work involved makes it that much more special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for more coffee and then off to painting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114087165008843663?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114087165008843663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114087165008843663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114087165008843663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114087165008843663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/painting.html' title='Painting'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114061028866813800</id><published>2006-02-22T06:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T07:11:28.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let there be light</title><content type='html'>I had some shadowey spots in the kitchen. You know those areas where no matter what you do with the overhead light there are shadows?&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my hubby installed some under cabinet lighting, also one over the sink. It is wonderful! I really love it.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you again sweetie!&lt;br /&gt;He also installed a microwave/ventfan. This is also really nice. Now I don't have to walk aross the enitre length of the kitchen to use our old one. So much more functional.&lt;br /&gt;They may be little things, but they mean a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114061028866813800?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114061028866813800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114061028866813800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114061028866813800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114061028866813800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/let-there-be-light.html' title='Let there be light'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114008966270850961</id><published>2006-02-16T06:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T06:34:22.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Collateral Damage</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had a can of spray paint explode?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen a can of spray paint explode?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen a can of red spray paint explode.................in your kitchen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened to my hubby yesterday. It is a good thing that we are going to re-do the kitchen anyway, because we would have to now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be a crazy old broad, because I laughed until I almost cried. It is just amazing how much can be covered, or at least speckeled in this type of incident. I commented that while I did want red accents in the kitchen, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't even address what he looked like. He still looks like a serial killer with bad hygene habits.&lt;br /&gt;And the kitchen looks like it needs some yellow crime scene tape.&lt;br /&gt;I think the kitchen will be moved up on our to do list, especially since we are going to be having some of his family come for dinner in a couple of weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114008966270850961?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114008966270850961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114008966270850961&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114008966270850961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114008966270850961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/collateral-damage.html' title='Collateral Damage'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-114001007842489636</id><published>2006-02-15T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T08:27:58.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time marches on</title><content type='html'>Now that the Valentines silliness is history we can look forward to the Easter silliness to go into full throttle.&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere you go will be the baskets, duckies, chickies and bunnies. Bleack!&lt;br /&gt;Along with the "gotta buy the perfect Easter outfit".......so the stores will be loaded with the pastel frufru clothes for the females, and the pastel shirts etc for the guys.&lt;br /&gt;People will actually get all dressed up in this frippery and parade to church, supposedly to worship. But this fashion show will be the gossip of the day. I can just hear the tongues wagging now......&lt;br /&gt;This is just one of the reasons that I do not go to church, of any flavor. It is mostly about what you are wearing, where you are sitting and who sees you there.&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the churches who proclaim, we are casual, wear jeans if you like, just come. We have alternative music to the traditional organ, especially our evening services....are they trying to be pseudo-night clubs? I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and don't forget to buy that Easter ham for dinner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-114001007842489636?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114001007842489636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=114001007842489636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114001007842489636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/114001007842489636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/time-marches-on.html' title='Time marches on'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113974490557899613</id><published>2006-02-12T06:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T06:48:25.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Messin' with Mother Nature</title><content type='html'>As if all the fertility treatments and abortions weren't enough, there is now a birth control pill that can really mess with mother nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seasonale.com/"&gt;This little gem&lt;/a&gt; not only helps to prevent pregnancy, but you get the added benefit of only four periods a year.&lt;br /&gt;I see a problem here. A womans body is not supposed to function like that. I wonder what the after effects of taking these for years will be? This may change your body in ways you never dreampt of, with consequences that are far reaching.&lt;br /&gt;What's next? Maybe a you can take a pill and only have to pee once a day. That could make for "more possibilites" too, wouldn't it?&lt;br /&gt;How about a pill so you only have to take a dump once a week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that the pharmacutical industry is going down a very dangerous road here. When they start messing around with normal and healthy bodily functions, there is bound to be some agregious consequences in the long term.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113974490557899613?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113974490557899613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113974490557899613&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113974490557899613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113974490557899613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/messin-with-mother-nature.html' title='Messin&apos; with Mother Nature'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113940036830091747</id><published>2006-02-08T06:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T07:06:08.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts</title><content type='html'>It seems as if one half of the country are doing fertility treatments and the other half are having abortions. That is just so screwed up.&lt;br /&gt;Until the last few decades, you almost never heard of fertility treatments, because folks didn't need'em. Now it is so prevalant.&lt;br /&gt;Just what has happened that makes it so hard for some women to get pregnant? My thought is that it has something to do with the natural selection process. These people just weren't supposed to reproduce. But now science makes it possible. Makes you wonder if all the children produced through the wonder of science will be able to reproduce themselves or if they will also need help. Scientists and doctors have been so busy wondering if they could do this, did they ever stop and think if they should?&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those women getting abortions. With all the birth control available, just why are the abortionists doing such a booming business? Probably because most women are just too lazy to remember to use birth control.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have all the answers, but this is really screwed up. I wonder what these women are thinking, if they are thinking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113940036830091747?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113940036830091747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113940036830091747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113940036830091747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113940036830091747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113919497576148558</id><published>2006-02-05T21:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T22:02:55.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little tears</title><content type='html'>Your big brown eyes showed pain inside&lt;br /&gt;in a dank dark closet attempting to hide&lt;br /&gt;oh how your little heart must moan&lt;br /&gt;hiding in the dark alone&lt;br /&gt;how could you ever understand&lt;br /&gt;the pain of a raging fathers hand&lt;br /&gt;I wish that I could make you see&lt;br /&gt;you have nothing to fear trusting me&lt;br /&gt;you cannot possibly understand&lt;br /&gt;that my heart is in your hand&lt;br /&gt;I hold you close your tears subside&lt;br /&gt;my feelings for you I cannot hide&lt;br /&gt;I only wish that I could heal&lt;br /&gt;the confusion and pain that you must feel&lt;br /&gt;the world holds frustration, hate and rage&lt;br /&gt;but why for a child of your age&lt;br /&gt;I pray your future holds love and cheer&lt;br /&gt;a world of happiness to replace the fear&lt;br /&gt;I hope I touched your mind and heart&lt;br /&gt;to give your world of love a start&lt;br /&gt;because inside I died&lt;br /&gt;when I held you while you cried&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113919497576148558?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113919497576148558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113919497576148558&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113919497576148558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113919497576148558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/little-tears.html' title='Little tears'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113897289483558851</id><published>2006-02-03T07:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T08:21:35.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Only 11 shopping days left.......</title><content type='html'>until Valentines Day.&lt;br /&gt;What a load of crap. It is just another reason to go out and spend money, so you can prove to someone that you love them.&lt;br /&gt;Well, go ahead. Far be it for me to tell you not to. You have a brain, or something taking up space between your ears, decide for yourself. I realise that is a radical concept.&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere you look are ads for Valentines Day, and if that isn't bad enough, lurking in the wings is Easter. Those damned bunnies are already showing up in every store you walk into. And you know what they say about rabbits.&lt;br /&gt;Then even before they finally get rid of all the damned bunnies, who have multiplied like Tribbles in a grain bin, the retailers are hawking merchandise for Mothers Day. "If you love your mother you will buy her X."&lt;br /&gt;Followed closely by Fathers Day, the Fourth of July, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving and every retailers nervana, Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;I am worn out already.&lt;br /&gt;Every so called holiday is filled with and over run by advertising reminding you to buy something. If you really care. Do it for your mother, your father, your sweetie and if all else fails, do it for the children............because they need to get indoctrinated into this nonstop retailers frenzy. Future buyers of that expensive crap, just they can show somebody that they love them.&lt;br /&gt;What ever happened to spending your time, instead of money? Does your mother, father or whoever really need another something? Pretty soon they have to have a bigger house just to store all those "tokens of love", or at least a storage space somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;Let us not forget about birthdays. Especially "for the children"........ they just have to have a better, bigger blowout than their friends had. Parents trying to out do each other with these parties, charging up the old credit card, hiring caterers, magicians, clowns and the like.&lt;br /&gt;Really gives me heartburn....err....a warm and fuzzy feeling. Is it any wonder that most kids have an unrealistic view of life? This nonstop materialistic parade starts before they are born and spirals out of control for most of their lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113897289483558851?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113897289483558851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113897289483558851&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113897289483558851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113897289483558851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/02/only-11-shopping-days-left.html' title='Only 11 shopping days left.......'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113862474372701761</id><published>2006-01-30T06:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T07:39:03.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kyle</title><content type='html'>As I read the story about the &lt;a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2006/01/29/MNGMHGVCEV1.DTL"&gt;"Marlboro Man"&lt;/a&gt; on World Net Daily, it reminded me of a Viet Nam vet that I knew some years ago. It was during the time I was a paramedic in Alaska. His name was Kyle. He was a "regular", we were called to pick him up for a trip to the ER, usually to have his stomach pumped and be put on more medication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was one of the very few that could talk to him while he was in a state of having drank too much and taken most of his medication. The senario was usually the same, he would be hunkered down on his porch, his mind consumed by what he had experienced in the war and just about everyone looked like the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime he would have a loaded gun, no matter how many the police took away from him, he was always able to get another. He was defending his position and desperately trying to get his buddies medical help. He trusted no one, for in his mind he was surrounded by the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally figured out that it was my red hair that to him, made me look different from everyone else. Usually when this would happen he had been awake for days, his mind clouded with alcohol and meds, and replaying his experiences from his time in Viet Nam. He would usually awaken his neighbors with screams of "Medic, I need a medic over here, my buddy is dyin"!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the cops could get anywhere near him. But I could. I have lost count of how many times that this scenario was replayed. It never got any better for him. But at least I could get close to him and defuse the situation. He trusted me, and I did my best to never let him down. Even when I was not on duty, the police would come and get me, to go and help Kyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could take his gun away from him, after having him aim it at me. It was always loaded and he was always ready to shoot. But like I said he trusted me. He knew, somewhere inside, that I would come and take care of his buddy and get him out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I would stay with him in the ER, while he had his stomach pumped. He would hang onto my hand and cry because he wasn't able to save his friend. He would thank me for doing all I could to try and save his friend and to get him to safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a picture of him once, of the person that used to be before he went overseas. A proud and handsome young man, with life and light in his eyes. What I saw in the reality of the time was very different. A worn out and gaunt old man who looked like he was 100 years old. The light had gone out of his eyes and was replaced with a saddness that went straight through to his soul. At the time he was in his 40's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vividly remember the last time I saw Kyle. As usual he was on his porch fighting off the enemy and trying to save his friend.  With everyone else out of sight and me walking towards him, he became very calm. He stood up, which was highly unusual, and stated "I can't save my buddy, I promised him I would, but I can't. I am so tired and I can't do this anymore. Forgive me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I could get to him, he raised the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113862474372701761?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113862474372701761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113862474372701761&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113862474372701761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113862474372701761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/kyle.html' title='Kyle'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113856573543813778</id><published>2006-01-29T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T15:15:38.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Domino Effect</title><content type='html'>We are still unpacking and rearranging stuff. So, this morning I had an idea to rearrange some of the things on my kitchen counter, to get more useable counter space. I wanted to move the coffeepot over to a different spot. The place was much more user friendly, and did'nt take up workable counter space.&lt;br /&gt;One problem, there was no electrical outlet where I wanted to move it. So, I asked my hubby if would be possible to put in an outlet. There was already a switch there for the outside porch light. He looked at it briefly and said, "Shouldn't be a problem, I'll just have to run to Lowes and get some supplies."&lt;br /&gt;When he returned, he looked at the wiring for the exsisting switch, and noticed that there was no ground wire in the switch box. So he went outside to look at how the light was wired, and to determine just what had been done with the ground wire. Then we had to shut off the power to the switch. That was a case of flipping breakers to find which one supplied the power. Now being that it was a switch located in the kitchen and suppling the outside light, you would expect to find the power supply for said switch on one of the kitchen breakers.&lt;br /&gt;For what ever reason, it was on the same circuit as the hallway lights. Go figure. Plus he could not pull the ground wire from the outside back through to the switch that it should have been in, in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;So with some creative rewiring, he was able to get the ground wire that he needed from the hot water heater (located just below the switch) and was able to put in the outlet that we needed to plug in the coffeepot.&lt;br /&gt;He had to remove the cover for the breaker box to see where the ground wires for the house were. All of the wiring looked to me as if it had been put in by crazed monkeys on a wild acid trip. How he could figure out what was what is still amazing to me.&lt;br /&gt;During this whole process he asked me how I would feel about rewiring the whole house, because a lot of the wiring is really screwed up and makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;I must have had a really strange look on my face because he added really fast, that it would not be that bad to do.&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness that he knows what he is doing when it comes to this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, such are the joys of having an older fixer upper house. I just wonder what other surprises we are in for. But we are making progress. Uncovering the walled over window in the bathroom was a major plus. Not to mention getting rid of the twilight zone decor in a long narrow hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love this place, but some of the messes we have found I could do with out. But it is just all part of the experience of renovation.&lt;br /&gt;I am lucky to have married such a handy guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113856573543813778?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113856573543813778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113856573543813778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113856573543813778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113856573543813778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/domino-effect.html' title='The Domino Effect'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113845182671605529</id><published>2006-01-28T07:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T07:37:06.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What were you thinkin'!</title><content type='html'>Why would anyone agree to get a tattoo from a &lt;a href="http://www.thekansascitychannel.com/news/6447791/detail.html?subid=22100413&amp;qs=1;bp=t"&gt;door to door salesman?&lt;/a&gt; Especially when seeing the "equipment" he was going to use?&lt;br /&gt;They must have truly desperate to have a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing against tattoos, I have two myself. I got them in a shop, after I had checked out the conditions. Sterile technique, sterile packaged needles, one use ink, and no complaints due to infections, or finished tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am just hard hearted, but these women got just what they paid for. I wonder what else they would have agreed to with type of set up. What if the guy would have been peddling door to door stomach stapling? I am sure they would have freely laid across their kitchen tables and let him have a go at it, after all it is easier than just putting down your fork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113845182671605529?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113845182671605529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113845182671605529&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113845182671605529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113845182671605529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/what-were-you-thinkin.html' title='What were you thinkin&apos;!'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113837055656071751</id><published>2006-01-27T08:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T09:02:36.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the kitchen</title><content type='html'>I think I have stated here before that I love to cook and bake. I just love spending time in the kitchen. It is my sanctuary.&lt;br /&gt;I love to put things together that result in a good meal, dessert or what have you. I can lose all track of time reading through cookbooks. The kitchen is my favorite part of the house.&lt;br /&gt;When we were looking at houses to buy, one of the first rooms I would look at was the kitchen. For me, it is the very heart and soul of my home. It is a place of magic. A place where things are made, or preserved. Yes, I like canning too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in a large extended family, and there were always lots of people to cook for. I began helping in the kitchen when I was four or five. I made my first batch of bread, entirely on my own, when I was seven. I have been hooked ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a good thing that I also like gardening and the like, or I would probably weigh, well too much. Having all those fresh vegetables and herbs to weave my magic with makes me impatient for spring to get here so I can start my garden. The seed catalogs have started to arrive and planning has begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to grab another cup of coffee, sit back and do some more planning for the garden.&lt;br /&gt;Coffee anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113837055656071751?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113837055656071751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113837055656071751&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113837055656071751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113837055656071751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/in-kitchen.html' title='In the kitchen'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113828252536313649</id><published>2006-01-26T07:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T08:37:42.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandwich Generation</title><content type='html'>The phrase sounds like you are a cut of deli meat. This is hardly anything new, the concept I mean.&lt;br /&gt;It used to be, not all that long ago, that the multi-generational household was the norm. Having mom and dad living with you was not out of the ordinary, you probably lived with them when you were first married.&lt;br /&gt;So now this arrangement is enough to have web sites and a week long on going news report! Is it really such a hardship to care for the people who cared for you? It seems that "family" has become a term that either implies people that you see only once or twice a year, or an undue hardship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Undue hardship is what I am getting out of most of the reports. What is up with that? I guess that the parents are supposed to "live their own lives" and stay out of yours. Everyone doing their own thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can just hear the cries of some people already, "My parents were horrible, they treated me bad, blah, blah, blah." Well, mine weren't the greatest either. I don't have all the answers, if I did I'd run for the position of God. It is just my feeling that family should be just that, family. Have we gotten so far away from that concept? From what I have observed, so many people have. Family is something to keep at arms length. You stay in your space and not in mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some benefits to having a multi-generational household. No, I am not talking money here. Even though most of the infromation seems to be centered around that. In todays world, for the most part, it is all about getting "stuff" and new cars and a better house and designer clothes and on and on. Is this really what life is all about? I guess that it is for most people. Lessons and wisdom from the past is not worthwhile, they have no place in our lives today. The world is electronically enhanced, mired in debt and utterly lost in the mad scramble of having the newest, the latest before anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am just waxing philisophically from behind rose colored glasses. Maybe I am just crazy. Maybe I have an insane longing for things long passed. Maybe I am lost in a Walton-est dream world ( I thought I would bring that up before someone else did).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do see the value of the families caring for each other, leaning on each other and learning from each other. That in essence is what helps keep the older ones young and matures the younger ones. It is the catalyst for passing on lessons learned, for seeing new points of view and for pulling together for a common goal. It used to be what helped make us who we are. In the world we have today, we need all the help we can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113828252536313649?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113828252536313649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113828252536313649&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113828252536313649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113828252536313649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/sandwich-generation.html' title='Sandwich Generation'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113819181319163570</id><published>2006-01-25T07:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T07:23:33.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless Nights</title><content type='html'>I had one of those last night.&lt;br /&gt;You are tired, you go to bed. Then your brain starts going a hundred miles an hour. Or a piece of a song repeats in your head. You toss and turn. Then toss and turn some more. Finally you conceed that it is useless to just lie there.&lt;br /&gt;Late night TV sucks. I didn't even bother. I just went and played card games on my computer. And listened to my dogs snore. And listened to my husband snore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally along about 2 am, I felt that I could go back to sleep, so I wandered back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;I woke myself up at 6am with the hick-ups. This is not a good way to wake up, especially after having only 4 hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wander out to the kitchen and start the coffeepot.&lt;br /&gt;yippee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113819181319163570?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113819181319163570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113819181319163570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113819181319163570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113819181319163570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/sleepless-nights.html' title='Sleepless Nights'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113810701037751379</id><published>2006-01-24T07:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T07:50:11.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beware the Caffine Nazis</title><content type='html'>Just in case there were not enough things to worry about, there is a bunchof people out there wanting to take your caffine.&lt;br /&gt;There is a&lt;a href="http://i-newswire.com/pr54269.html"&gt; mayor in Ohio &lt;/a&gt;declaring a "Caffine Awareness Month", that addresses the issues of caffine intoxication and dependency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also website called &lt;a href="http://www.caffineawareness.org"&gt;Caffine Awareness&lt;/a&gt; that propounds "Waking you up to the real truth about caffine".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is up with these people? They want, not only your coffee, but tea, chocolate and anything else that contains caffine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has there really been any instances of caffine crazed people out on a robbing and murder spree that I haven't heard about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there back alley caffine pushers making millions selling the stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's next, a nationwide version of AA for "caffine addicts"? Maybe they will call it CA......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caffine Awareness even has a quiz on their website so you can determine the extent of your caffine addiction! WTF?&lt;br /&gt;They also have "Tips for life without caffine".............. And you can take an introductory course on " The DANGERS of caffine". They even have tips on how to be an activist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first heard about this I thought it was a joke. These wackos are serious!&lt;br /&gt;They can try and come for my coffee and they will recieve a lead enema.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113810701037751379?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113810701037751379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113810701037751379&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113810701037751379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113810701037751379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/beware-caffine-nazis.html' title='Beware the Caffine Nazis'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113797637679543545</id><published>2006-01-22T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T19:32:56.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Brother</title><content type='html'>Via Banes blog, I rated my blog on the good/evil rating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It came up 52% Evil, 48% Good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I rate such a score?&lt;br /&gt;I have no links to pictures of nude people. Maybe that is where I went wrong. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I rated evil because I have been writing about home improvement, everyone knows how evil that is, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it was the post about my grandsons' birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it was my sarcastic post about the drug commercials, with references to the government.&lt;br /&gt;Sissies, I guess they can't take anyone giving them a hard time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113797637679543545?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113797637679543545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113797637679543545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113797637679543545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113797637679543545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/oh-brother.html' title='Oh Brother'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113759040230797624</id><published>2006-01-18T08:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T08:20:02.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>Today is my grandsons' second birthday! In some ways it seems like just yesterday that he was born. I was fortunate enough to be there for his birth. I was the one who gave him his first bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a personality he has! He makes me smile even when he gets into trouble. He has a smile that just lights up his whole face. His eyes just twinkle with mischeviousness......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was staying with us in December, we had such a good time with him. If he would be in another room, and I would wonder just what he was up to now, I would call his name and and he would answer with a loud and clear "YA??" It would just crack me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really miss that little guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday, Hunter!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113759040230797624?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113759040230797624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113759040230797624&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113759040230797624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113759040230797624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113697880140465840</id><published>2006-01-11T05:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T06:26:41.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drugs</title><content type='html'>I'll step out of my blather about home remodeling for a bit, since no one gives a shit anyway....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching some TV last night, normally I don't pay much attention to commercials, but for some reason I did.&lt;br /&gt;There was an 8 commercial string, 6 of them were for drugs, and 2 of them were for either insurance or medicare to help you pay for the drugs. What is up with this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you really need all of these drugs? Maybe I should say pharmacuticals, sounds better, eh? Because if you say drugs, most people think of the illegal kind. Anymore, who needs those? Just a short visit to a doctor, armed with a list of pharmacuticals advertised on TV and you are all set.&lt;br /&gt;Most doctors probably get kick backs from the pharmacutical companies anyway, and if people come in with a list, it shortens the whole process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just go in to your doctor with a list of complaints and they will load you up. Tell them you can't pee, or pee when you shouldn't, and that makes you depressed, raises your blood pressure, which gives you headaches, body aches and then you can't sleep. Well, that's good for at least 5 different drugs right there. Add  that just can't concentrate and you are irritable because your significant other can't perform sexually to your satisfaction, and not only will you be rewarded with a few more drugs...err....pharmacuticals, the doctor wants to see your partner so they can get them on board with a few prescriptions of their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man that advertising really pays off! People running to the doctor because you can't get the drugs without one, to get the stuff they saw on TV. The doctor makes out, the pharmacutical companies make out and the drug stores make out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever notice the commercials about the pharmacist being your new best friend?  I especially like the ones where the pharmacist gets all teary eyed and says it's not about the money, she just cares about you so much. Or the one where the pharmacist spent his day off going to someones house to help them get all their recently prescribed drugs in order. Then there is the one talking about how the pharmacy is open all night and she is there for you, if you have any questions or just need anything at all. Maybe she gives over the counter blow jobs, you know so you can check out the new drug for erectile dysfunction, just to make sure it's workin' for ya. Customer satisfaction and all that. Besides she knows that your wife just got a new sleeping pill and will be dead to the world for 8 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you remember a time, not really all that long ago, when people lived their lives without benefit of so many pills that if you shook them they would sound like a bubble gum machine? Never fear, there is a commercial that addresses that issue as well. It is taken from the old I Love Lucy show. This is pushing the new medicare plan. The good ole days really were not the good ole days because you weren't on drugs with the friendly government there to help you pay for them. Oh, my god! Just how did people survive back then?  Well, worry no more because the government is here to help you, now take your drugs and shut up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113697880140465840?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113697880140465840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113697880140465840&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113697880140465840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113697880140465840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/drugs.html' title='Drugs'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113689698525889378</id><published>2006-01-10T07:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T07:43:08.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Progress</title><content type='html'>The twilight zone hallway is no more! Taking down the chair rail, baseboards and the wallpaper covered paneling was a breeze. It was an enjoyable experience as I attacked that mess armed with a wrecking bar and a hammer.&lt;br /&gt;The damn wallpaper boarder took a little more time to remove. If I could find the sadistic person who went wild with wallpaper in this house I would cheerfully wrap them in the stuff. hose them down and sit them in the sun to dry.&lt;br /&gt;Now to fill in nail holes and minor dimples, prime, paint and replace the baseboards! It will look so much better, well it already does.&lt;br /&gt;My hubby did a wonderful job of framing, waterproofing and painting the uncovered window in the bathroom! It really looks good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are on our way to making this little old house more comfortable and less of an eye sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I awoke today to rain, a good thing, we need the water to fill the cistern. I have loved using the water from the cistern, it is naturally soft and leaves everything cleaner and softer than city/county water that has been treated with god only knows what all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113689698525889378?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113689698525889378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113689698525889378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113689698525889378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113689698525889378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/progress.html' title='Progress'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113681364294926168</id><published>2006-01-09T08:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T08:34:03.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Minor Demolition</title><content type='html'>We opened up the wall in the bathroom yesterday to uncover the window. What a difference it made to that cave of a room! Just some daylight coming through the window and it lost a lot of its' cold institutional feel. It also makes the room appear a little bigger, with the view of the trees and the pasture.&lt;br /&gt;The lower pane is frosted so it was not like anybody could see in. Although even if it wasn't, it is unlikely that anybody would be in a position to peek in.&lt;br /&gt;I am still at a loss as to why anybody would put a wall over a window...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was intresting (and messy) to cut through the tile, but we managed to get the biggest piece off intact. That sure made the clean up much easier.&lt;br /&gt;Today we will be off to the home improvement store to get what we need to to frame in the window and water proof it.&lt;br /&gt;We will still have a lot of work to do to that room, but this has made such a difference that I think I can wait for the warmer weather to tear the rest of the stuff out and replace it. It is in major need of an update.&lt;br /&gt;When my hubby is installing the framing, I think I am going to be taking the chair rail, base boards, and that paneling/wallpaper out of the hallway. Then just some application of some spackle to cover the nail holes, and it will be about ready to paint. I just then have to soak the wallpaper trim off that was applied above the chair rail. It shouldn't be too dificult as I have been able to just peel some of it off.&lt;br /&gt;To me those are some the worst elements that we have to deal with, at least inside. The exterior windows are a mess, mostly dirt though and some minor repair and they will be in good shape.&lt;br /&gt;Since I love to have open windows, I am looking forward to this. With all the windows open in the summer, and the way the breeze funnels through this valley, I believe that the house will be quite comfortable in the summer months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113681364294926168?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113681364294926168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113681364294926168&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113681364294926168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113681364294926168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/some-minor-demolition.html' title='Some Minor Demolition'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113672943738735344</id><published>2006-01-08T08:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T09:10:38.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh dear......</title><content type='html'>I just read that fellow blogger,&lt;a href="http://banedad.blogspot.com/"&gt; Bane&lt;/a&gt;, is down with the creepin' crud yet again.&lt;br /&gt;This is sure to effect the number of his posts for a few days, while he wanders around in a Nyquil induced haze. That really sucks. I hope that he feels better soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much happening in my little corner of the world, just keepin' on, keepin' on. Waiting for warmer weather and seed catalogs.&lt;br /&gt;I have quite a few projects that I want to get to working on, but they all require springtime to start, so now I am just in the planning phase of what to do first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the place that we have bought, out here in the rough and tumble. An older house, with lots of character and possiblities. And hardwood floors. I really love those floors, so much better than carpeting. They were made from something alive and still lend their wonderful soul to this house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who owned this house before us reallt went crazy with some of the most god awful wall paper, just about everywhere. I thought I was going to have to spend a lot of time removing it, but on further inspection, it was placed over equally god awful cheap paneling. So now all I have to do is remove the paneling and I will have a nice clean wall!  I want to get to ripping all that junk off the walls. Especially down the hallway, which has a horrible green and white striped wall paper. Walking down that hallway is like stepping into the twilight zone.&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen has dark paneling in the dining section, even on a bright sunny day it is dark. So that will have to go as well.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I will be investing in paint when all that paneling goes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you believe that someone walled over the window in the bathroom? Why would anybody do that? We will be opening that up as soon as possible. That will help it to look a whole lot less like a cave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113672943738735344?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113672943738735344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113672943738735344&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113672943738735344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113672943738735344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/oh-dear.html' title='Oh dear......'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113638649067897274</id><published>2006-01-04T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T09:54:50.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate Mayo Cake</title><content type='html'>Now before any of you cretins go ewwww........make the damn thing and try a slice.&lt;br /&gt;You can vary the intensity of the chocolate flavor by adding as little as 1/4 cup of cocoa or as much as 2/3 cup of cocoa without screwing the integrity of the cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 cups flour&lt;br /&gt;1 cup sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup cocoa&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon baking powder&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon soda&lt;br /&gt;1 cup mayo (no substitutes)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup cold water&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon vanilla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour a 9x9x2 inch pan. Set aside.&lt;br /&gt;Stir together flour, sugar, cocoa, baking powder and soda.&lt;br /&gt;In a seperate bowl stir together mayo, water and vanilla.&lt;br /&gt;Add mayo mixture to flour mixture, beat until blended, about 2 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Pour batter into prepared pan and bake for about 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Cool abd frost with your favorite frosting.&lt;br /&gt;This is also good with strawberries or raspberries, fresh or frozen.&lt;br /&gt;I usually use part of the berries to make a sauce, not too sweet, and the rest of the berries as a garnish.&lt;br /&gt;Take a slice of cake, split it half, place some of the berry sauce on bottom half, replace top half, add more sauce and some whole or slices of the berries. Drizzle with chocolate syrup and a spoonful of whipped cream.  Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113638649067897274?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113638649067897274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113638649067897274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113638649067897274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113638649067897274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/chocolate-mayo-cake.html' title='Chocolate Mayo Cake'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113637680161041313</id><published>2006-01-04T06:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T07:13:21.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Kill Cafe</title><content type='html'>It has long been a desire of mine to open a cafe. Not just your run of the mill cafe either. And definately not with haut cuisine. Real food. Home style real food.&lt;br /&gt;I have even gone as far in my dreaming to work on menus and the like. I know I would never win any prizes with my food of choice, but if I had a clientel that was loyal, who cares about awards? Just seeing hungry people eat, be satisfied and come back again would be all the awards that I would need.&lt;br /&gt;The menu would vary due to the seasons, call me crazy, (my hubby does) that certain things are more appriopriate to either cold or warm weather.&lt;br /&gt;The Fall and Winter menu would feature things like Ham and Beans, Beef Stew, Chicken and dumplings, Sauerkraut and Sausages, Ribs in a hearty and slightly spicy/smokey sauce, Roasted whole chickens. Hearty, warm and fill your stomach and soul kinds of foods.&lt;br /&gt;The Spring and Summer menu would have things like Fried Chicken and potato salad, various green salads and cole slaw. Grilled items like steak, seafoods and the like.&lt;br /&gt;Always there would be homemade breads, pies and cakes. There would also be comfortable places to sit and drink coffee, or tea or whatever and visit with your friends. No time limit for how long you could sit at your table.&lt;br /&gt;It would be a place where you could feel comfortable in your jeans and flannel shirt, the only dress code would be to keep your pants on........&lt;br /&gt;The produce would be fresh and local, along with the butter, milk, eggs and cheese. I would also have an old fashioned soda fountain, remember those? The memories that brings back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be a lot of hard work, but it would be so satisfying. I like nothing better than a reason to fire up my kitchen and cook and bake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, to dream...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113637680161041313?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113637680161041313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113637680161041313&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113637680161041313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113637680161041313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/road-kill-cafe.html' title='Road Kill Cafe'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113630092197315460</id><published>2006-01-03T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T10:08:41.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough already!!!!</title><content type='html'>Just what is wrong with real food?&lt;br /&gt;I have been watching the food network, and various other things.........and all they can talk about is basterdizing food. "Use sugar substitute, salt substitute, egg substitute" and on and on to literal ad nauseum.&lt;br /&gt;Just where does the category of "substitute" fall in the realm of food?&lt;br /&gt;Can you grow it in your garden?&lt;br /&gt;Can you buy a substitute cow to give you substitue milk?&lt;br /&gt;Where are the chickens who lay substitute eggs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you really know what you are consuming when you eat these substitute so called foods?&lt;br /&gt;Chemicals.&lt;br /&gt;Chemicals engineered to fool you into thinking you are doing something good for your body.&lt;br /&gt;You might as well sit down and eat plastic or sawdust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The products labeled as "Free" just drive me nuts. They are free alright, free from flavor and nutrients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kitchen is a nutritionists nightmare. For them just to look at what is there would have them run screaming into the streets and be seeking therapy for the rest of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;Whole milk.&lt;br /&gt;Butter.&lt;br /&gt;Eggs.&lt;br /&gt;Salt.&lt;br /&gt;Mayonaise.&lt;br /&gt;In other words real food. Not chemically engineered, genetically enhanced, flavorless crap. There is probably more flavor and nutrient value in the packaging than in the so called "food" itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113630092197315460?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113630092197315460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113630092197315460&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113630092197315460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113630092197315460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/enough-already.html' title='Enough already!!!!'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113628987956477647</id><published>2006-01-03T06:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T07:04:39.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>I generally do not spend a lot of time commenting on things in the news here, I leave that to other sources. If political/social commentary is what you are after, go look up &lt;a href="http://voxday.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vox&lt;/a&gt;, various news sites, or some of &lt;a href="http://banedad.blogspot.com/"&gt;Banes&lt;/a&gt; posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just go on about what is happening in my own little corner, or maybe just some irreverant basic thoughts on what is going on in the world.&lt;br /&gt;I do not care what your politics are, after all this is the MYOB Gulch. For those of you who don't know what MYOB means, Mind Your Own Business. I think if more people did that, and looked to their own first, this would be a better place, you know don't throw stones when you have glass windows yourself. My opinions are my own and I use this place as a repository. I am always glad that you stop by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still celebrating my new coffeepot, sitting here right now with a big steaming mug of the stuff. Anyway, now that my brain has been kick started........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was rather busy at the end of last year with moving in to a new (to me) place and having to go and rescue....err pick up my grandson, rather quickly. But all is settled down again in my world, and it is time to move along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some glorious thunderstorms yesterday afternoon. I love storms. I love feeling the power that is contained with in them. The thunder echos here in our little valley. Although January is an odd time here for storms, we had unusually warm weather yesterday and with a cold front moving in behind it, it was the perfect recipe for thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of rambling..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113628987956477647?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113628987956477647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113628987956477647&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113628987956477647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113628987956477647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113620308156027668</id><published>2006-01-02T06:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T06:58:02.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Year and more crap</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;Would somebody tell me just what is so happy about turning to a new page on a calendar?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe  it's because New Years eve is a sanctioned holiday to drink yourself insensible. Maybe it's because you will spend most of the coming year regretting what you did New Years eve. Maybe it's because in 9 months you will be in labor and secretly asking yourself if you really know who the father is?&lt;br /&gt;To hell with all the crazy "celebrations", I went to bed at 10. I could care less about the whole "drink yourself stupid" theme of the holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I'm talking about stupid.........what is the deal with coffee pots? Most of them don't last worth the damn. I have bought more coffee pots in the last few years than I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be without a coffee pot, and you don't want to see me in the morning without a big mug of the stuff in my hand. Horror movies do no justice to the bitch without coffee.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the coffee pots......I have tried most of the brands available on the market, and none stood up to the test of time. Hell even three months............&lt;br /&gt;So I went and bought myself a Bunn. I about passed out looking at the price tag, but figured that I had spent way more than that on other coffee pots combined, just in the last 2 years.&lt;br /&gt;This coffee pot is a thing of beauty...........always keeps a pots worth of water hot and on stand-by........just put coffee in the brew basket, add another pot of water, close the lid and you have a fresh pot of coffee in less than 3 minutes!&lt;br /&gt;Now that is peace on earth, or at least my own little corner of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113620308156027668?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113620308156027668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113620308156027668&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113620308156027668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113620308156027668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-year-and-more-crap.html' title='The New Year and more crap'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113517459255416567</id><published>2005-12-21T09:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T09:16:32.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movin' on</title><content type='html'>The seed catalogs have been ordered, and I am waiting in anticipation for their arrival!&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly wait for spring, to get out and start the garden. Also to do some trimming, yard cleanup and planting flowers.&lt;br /&gt;Yea, I know, I'm wierd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113517459255416567?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113517459255416567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113517459255416567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113517459255416567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113517459255416567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/movin-on.html' title='Movin&apos; on'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113459358118896184</id><published>2005-12-14T15:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T15:53:01.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh..............</title><content type='html'>I have been rather busy of late.&lt;br /&gt;I was not expecting to have to make a quick trip back down to Florida, but I did. About the only thing that would get me to do this was to pick up my grandson.&lt;br /&gt;That one thing came in the form of a frantic phone call from my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;So now I am finishing upacking and caring for my almost 2 year old grandson. He is so cute, and always tries to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...........I will be trying to get back here a lot more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113459358118896184?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113459358118896184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113459358118896184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113459358118896184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113459358118896184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/sigh.html' title='Sigh..............'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113346619664799204</id><published>2005-12-01T14:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T14:43:16.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The First of December</title><content type='html'>I should really be working. I should be empting boxes and putting things away. Instead I am staring out of the window, entranced with the view and the day.&lt;br /&gt;The clouds are dark, gray and heavy. But they are comforting. The trees have been denuded of their leaves, their limbs reach skeleton like fingers into the crisp air. There are still patches of impossibly green grass patchworked with golden weeds. I could, and in fact have been, drinking in this view for hours.&lt;br /&gt;There is a softly whispering breeze tumbling around in the trees and the bushes. A few hardy birds lend their song to the scene.&lt;br /&gt;Inside the aroma of slowly simmering pot of ham and beans fills the house.It is a rich smell punchuated with onion and garlic. Mingling with this is the heady smell of freshly brewed coffee.&lt;br /&gt;I love the feel of my flannel shirt next to my skin, soft and comforting like being in the arms of an old and familiar lover. Oh it is so delicious to sit content with in and with out, sipping a cup of coffee delicately flavored with chocolate and mint. Listening to the contented snoring of the dogs, curled up and sleeping on the thick rug at my feet.&lt;br /&gt;I am finally feeling peace stealing back into my soul. The stress of the last few months becoming a memory, like a bad dream.&lt;br /&gt;I really should be working...........maybe later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113346619664799204?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113346619664799204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113346619664799204&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113346619664799204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113346619664799204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/first-of-december.html' title='The First of December'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113329658989308280</id><published>2005-11-29T15:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T15:46:33.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sci-Fi Profile</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1131947427Serenity.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width: 347px; height: 518px;" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; You scored as &lt;b&gt;Serenity (from Firefly)&lt;/b&gt;. You like to live your own way and do not enjoy when anyone but a friend tries to tell you that you should do different. Now if only the Reavers would quit trying to skin you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming on December 1, 2005:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? The Sequel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="300"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;SG-1 (from Stargate)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Serenity (from Firefly)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Galactica (from Battlestar: Galactica)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="94"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;94%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Millennium Falcon (from Star Wars)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="69"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;69%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Nebuchadnezzar (from The Matrix)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="69"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;69%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Enterprise D (from Star Trek)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="63"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;63%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Moya (from Farscape)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="50"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Bebop (from Cowboy Bebop)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="38"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;38%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=102272"&gt;Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113329658989308280?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113329658989308280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113329658989308280&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113329658989308280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113329658989308280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/sci-fi-profile.html' title='Sci-Fi Profile'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113320775313948579</id><published>2005-11-28T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T14:55:53.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving In</title><content type='html'>I thought we had too much stuff when I was packing. Now I know for sure UNpacking it, and trying to find room for it all.&lt;br /&gt;This is a smaller house. Don't get me wrong, I love this place. I just wish I could wiggle my nose and have it all put away.&lt;br /&gt;The dogs are not happy with me either. We have new furniture in the living room and they are not allowed in there. They stand by the gate I put in the doorway and pout. Tough. I want it to stay looking nice and enjoy my new things, not something that will happen with 2, 130+ lb dogs rooting away on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, back to work. I still have to find a home for way too much stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113320775313948579?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113320775313948579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113320775313948579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113320775313948579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113320775313948579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/moving-in.html' title='Moving In'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113276174983035884</id><published>2005-11-23T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T11:02:29.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the day</title><content type='html'>We are closing on our new digs today and then moving in!!!&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell that I am excited?&lt;br /&gt;But I may not be around for a few days, stuff to do, unpacking putting away blah, blah,blah.&lt;br /&gt;Here's wishing you all a good Thanksgiving, see you on the other side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113276174983035884?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113276174983035884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113276174983035884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113276174983035884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113276174983035884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the day'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113267023701018961</id><published>2005-11-22T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T09:37:17.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More on the "Holiday Season"</title><content type='html'>In the old days it was not called the "Holiday Season". The Christians called it "Christmas" and went to church. The Jews called it "Hanukka" and went to synagogue. The Athiests went to parties and drank.&lt;br /&gt;People passing each other on the street would say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Hanukka" or to the athiests, "Watch out for that wall!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113267023701018961?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113267023701018961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113267023701018961&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113267023701018961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113267023701018961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/more-on-holiday-season.html' title='More on the &quot;Holiday Season&quot;'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113261227222238714</id><published>2005-11-21T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:31:12.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting set up</title><content type='html'>One of the frustrating things about moving to a new area is setting up the utilities. (Gee, did you think I meant something else?)&lt;br /&gt;The electric company was a breeze. We got to talk with a real live person, in person. I mean she had a pulse and everything. Plus she was polite. It was quick, simple and painless. It took about 10 minutes of our time and then we were on our way. The service will be in our name by the time we close on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;Now the phone service was something else altogether. First just finding the correct company for service was an experience. In frustration. Then just try to find an office or even a phone number to call to set up service.&lt;br /&gt;After going to 2 differnt buildings in 2 differnt towns, and getting nowhere fast, my hubby finally pounded on the door. At least this one was labeled for UPS deliveries, so there was a possibility that there was actually a human inside. He gave us directions to a town 30 miles away, that he said had live people to talk to about this.&lt;br /&gt;We arrive at the telephone office and lo and behold, there are live people there. However, we were just shown to a desk area and told to call to set up service.&lt;br /&gt;We had just driven 30 nmiles to make a phone call.&lt;br /&gt;By this time, not being exactly sure that I would not be overly sarcastic, I asked my hubby to make the phone call. He waited on hold for about 20 minutes before talking with a supposedly live person. I was begining to wonder if the person on the other end of the phone was in India, or Pakistan where lots of call centers are located now days.&lt;br /&gt;They wanted more infomation than most cops during a traffic stop. For basic phone service. You would think that we were trying to set up security for a visiting dignitary. I was waiting for them to ask for urine and stool samples. No wonder they hide in an undisclosed location and talk to you over the phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113261227222238714?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113261227222238714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113261227222238714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113261227222238714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113261227222238714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/getting-set-up.html' title='Getting set up'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113243455930218893</id><published>2005-11-19T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T16:09:19.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day</title><content type='html'>Hotels can be nice places. The one we are in is not bad. But they are wearing.&lt;br /&gt;We are waiting to close on our new place. Fortunately we only have to wait until Wednesday. Until then we are in a hotel. I can hardly wait until we move in to the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to take some measurements for things. I wanted to stay. I wanted to start putting things away. I wanted to wake up there tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't I just the most pitiful black hole of need? Wednesday will be here soon enough, along with the work of unloading boxes, a chest freezer, boxes,an antique coke machine and oh, did I mention some boxes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are never moving again, ok, well at least I am never moving again. I told my hubby that if he wants to move to just shoot me first and bury me in the backyard. Because, like I said, I am never moving again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113243455930218893?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113243455930218893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113243455930218893&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113243455930218893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113243455930218893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/just-another-day.html' title='Just another day'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113234813116445289</id><published>2005-11-18T15:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T16:11:25.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All about me......</title><content type='html'>I am a cast iron bitch. Ask any one who knows me. Well, except for my hubby, kids, grandkids.....&lt;br /&gt;We have recently moved to a different state, and I am missing my oldest grandson...the youngest one already lives far from us.(That is bad enough)&lt;br /&gt;I miss the way his little eyes light up and that grin encompasses his whole face and his little arms reach up for me.&lt;br /&gt;He is just learning to talk and I had a conversation with him on the phone, his answer to everything was "yup" and then bye-bye.&lt;br /&gt;If I wasn't such a mean old bitch I'd just sit right down and have a good old cry........but that would rust the cast iron.&lt;br /&gt;I just couldn't ruin my reputation............sniff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113234813116445289?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113234813116445289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113234813116445289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113234813116445289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113234813116445289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/all-about-me.html' title='All about me......'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113234154628098447</id><published>2005-11-18T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T14:19:06.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some people are just stupid........</title><content type='html'>If you were driving a little car would you pull out in front of a large bus, going downhill?&lt;br /&gt;Some idiot did that to me this morning. Just because he had a death wish doesn't mean that I do as well.&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for me, the asshole was left to live and dissapoint Darwin.&lt;br /&gt;It didn't do my little old heart much good, but I can go on with the hope that he offs himself...soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113234154628098447?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113234154628098447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113234154628098447&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113234154628098447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113234154628098447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/some-people-are-just-stupid.html' title='Some people are just stupid........'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113231506929677581</id><published>2005-11-18T06:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T06:57:49.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, the holidays</title><content type='html'>The sounds of December days are muffled under a blanket of snow, whether the gray and white days of falling snow, or the sunny days of blue skies and glistening snow. In the meadows few animals are seen. Only their footprints are revealed, in meandering lines that originate somewhere unseen and go to places unknown. Grasses nod their heads of grain, inviting flocks of passing birds. Cardinals, so secretive throughout the summer nesting season, now flaunt themselves on backyard feeders, and sprays of wild roseberries add a decorative touch of red to roadsides and hedgerows.&lt;br /&gt; The nights of December fall dark and early, and houses twinkle with strings of colored lights. Back porches are stacked with firewood, and the crystalline air is delicately scented with wood smoke. Inside, homes are filled with firelight and candle glow, and ovens yield old family recipies, while outside, the drifting snow fills the valleys and covers the rooftops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  This all sounds so wonderful, peaceful and comforting......................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  OK, now back to reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Most people , this time of year are waiting for the blitz days of savings at their area stores, the true start of their holiday season. They will line up in the pre-dawn hours the day after Thanksgiving, pushing and shoving their way into the stores as soon as the managers key hits the lock. Then, watch out! It is a free-for-all of grabbing, stuffing into shopping carts and rushing on to the next aisle..........kind of like an out of control mob of looters in a smash and grab frenzy after some disaster.&lt;br /&gt; The background cacophony is made up of sterile Christmas music, the ceaseless ringing bell of a Salvation Army volunteer asking you to donate money, car horns, car alarms, sirens of all types and the cries and wails of overtired children demanding that you " buy me something. "&lt;br /&gt; Thanksgiving is the the eve of this over- commercialized, basterdized debauchery. Thanksgiving used to be a time of families to gather, enjoy each others company, a good meal filled with special treats, love and laughter. That has been replaced, for many, with getting the ads from the newspaper, spreading them out on the table and making a battle plan of shopping the blitz day sales that would make a WWII general proud. Armed, not with the weapons of war, but with debit and credit cards, eyes steeled with determination of obtaining as much of the sale merchandise as they can carry, and God help you if you get in their way.&lt;br /&gt; What has happened to the holiday season, when giving gifts was a sign of love for one another? It has spiraled down into a competition of gluttony, attempting to buy the the love and affection of those close to you, to demonstrate by spending beyond your means the " love " you have for someone, of buying instead of making your holiday meal.&lt;br /&gt; Gone are the days of spending your time instead of your money, making with your own hands and heart, a special holiday rememberance for some one you care for. Just what are these people going to do when the economy crumbles under the weight of overspending with fiat currency? The depression that is sure to follow will make the depression days of the 1930's look a picnic on a warm summers day. Most will not have a clue how to survive when the local grocery store can no longer get their shipments of prefab, canned, boxed and frozen meals.&lt;br /&gt; I feel blessed to have already known hardship, for it has made me a wiser person. One, who looks and plans ahead and puts away for the hard times that are sure to come. Who knows, maybe when the dust settles from an economic and political collapse, we liberty minded, freedom loving and self sufficent folks will be the majority of those that are left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113231506929677581?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113231506929677581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113231506929677581&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113231506929677581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113231506929677581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/oh-holidays.html' title='Oh, the holidays'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18801647.post-113155130395981089</id><published>2005-11-09T10:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T10:48:23.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Begining</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanted a place to post things that I feel would not belong on the blog I share with my hubby.&lt;br /&gt;A place for poetry, short stories and that sort of thing, along with what ever strikies me at the time..........and probably some irreverant ramblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18801647-113155130395981089?l=morrigantoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113155130395981089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18801647&amp;postID=113155130395981089&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113155130395981089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18801647/posts/default/113155130395981089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrigantoo.blogspot.com/2005/11/begining.html' title='The Begining'/><author><name>Morrigan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06594104544773330809</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6428/1848/1600/381.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
