<?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-15594318</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:21:39.237-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Suburban Diva</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome To The Madness</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-5336724996356236249</id><published>2009-01-11T15:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:52:12.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest Award</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SWpiVUYX-ZI/AAAAAAAAAnY/ooXN4EaiOCw/s1600-h/honest_award_cropped.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290148830687787410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SWpiVUYX-ZI/AAAAAAAAAnY/ooXN4EaiOCw/s200/honest_award_cropped.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ok so my sweet friend Holly gave me this award back on December 12th, yes a month ago and I am just now getting to it.  (By the way, checkout Holly's blog!  &lt;a href="http://www.holpeterson.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.holpeterson.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;)  It is great but I do not know how to link you there or whatever it is called. So do it the old school way and cut and paste.&lt;br /&gt;With this award, you post 10 honest things about yourself. So here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love all infomercials.  Every kind, especially the ones where they are selling music cds because I feel the need to sing every song, very loudly, without anyone interrupting.  I seriously could watch infomercials for hours and hours and want to order every item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I have a fear of barf.  Actually, fear is not a good word, maybe, psycho, neurotic or freak is better.  I totally lose it when it comes to Frab (barf backwards).  I even locked my sweet daughter in the backyard when she was sick and spoke to her through a cracked window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Everyday I practice dance moves. Hard core practice, like breaking a sweet.  I record videos on VH1 and learn them in slow motion.  Of course, you probably won't see me dance unless you are my kids or my neighbors who saw me through the windows, or you come over for a karaoke party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I have been told that I laugh really loud and maybe at the wrong times. One friend even described it as a cackle. If I hold it in, I will start snorting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Sometimes I randomly speak in a different accent in public just to embarrass the kids or Todd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Speaking of Todd, I like to hide and scare him. He thinks it is stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I often follow people home, strangers, friends, whomever . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I hate being inside.  I love to be outside all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I am surrounded by kids and I am slowly going crazy. Sometimes I want to scream but it only comes out as a yawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I think if Jack Bauer was real and he met me, I would be the new Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. . . Boy I am a weirdo. Now I tag, Lisa, April and Erica.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-5336724996356236249?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/5336724996356236249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=5336724996356236249' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5336724996356236249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5336724996356236249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2009/01/honest-award.html' title='Honest Award'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SWpiVUYX-ZI/AAAAAAAAAnY/ooXN4EaiOCw/s72-c/honest_award_cropped.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-271191836474183256</id><published>2008-10-01T08:06:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T11:27:30.387-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you have a lot of kids when. .  .</title><content type='html'>1. You forget a kid somewhere and you don't notice right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. In 1 week, you consume at least 25 oranges, 2o bananas, 20 apples, 3 loaves of bread, 36 eggs, 3 jars of peanut butter, 15 avocados, and 2 Advil (for the headache you get when you look at your grocery budget)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When you are in public,  people  ask if you have any openings left in your daycare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A 15 passenger van starts to look pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. No one invites you over for Sunday dinner, unless it is a fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-271191836474183256?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/271191836474183256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=271191836474183256' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/271191836474183256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/271191836474183256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-know-you-have-lot-of-kids-when.html' title='You know you have a lot of kids when. .  .'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4221161723511983060</id><published>2008-08-17T13:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:47:50.721-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Death Breath</title><content type='html'>Most of the time Todd is really cool and we don't have too many embarrassing moments in public together.  I love him and think he is a pretty great guy.  I let him know he is lucky to be married to me, so  I can help him out in social situations.   So what he did at church today takes the cake on how I will never figure out his weird engineer brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are pulling out of church and he rolls the window down and spits, yes I said SPITS a big wad out the window.  I of course yell, "Oh gross!  What are you DOING?"  I am mortified and grossed out.  We are at church.  The place I love to be as much as home! What in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what he said to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "I had really bad breath today at church so I went to the bathroom and ate some soap."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm - okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stare at him as if he is speaking a different language.  All I can manage to say is "soap?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "Yeah - I didn't get to floss after we had chicken last night so it was really bad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Soap?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "Yes.  What do you want to do for lunch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I wasn't sure to gag or laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, when we get home, I ask him again why he ate soap.  He told me his dentist said the best thing to do for bad breath was swish with dial antibacterial soap.  My dad, who is a dentist, never recommends &lt;strong&gt;eating&lt;/strong&gt; soap I am pretty sure. He  usually recommends to brush, floss and rinse with mouthwash. The basics.  Todd also told me that he had a spit cup in church because he couldn't get rid of the soap taste.  . . . spit cup in church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wait, the story gets even better.  I ask him if anyone saw him eating soap.  He said the guy in line behind him probably thought he was taking a bath because of all the water he was using to wash his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this my folks, is typical of a conversation in the Walker house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4221161723511983060?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4221161723511983060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4221161723511983060' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4221161723511983060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4221161723511983060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/08/death-breath.html' title='Death Breath'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2930445047305563298</id><published>2008-08-13T11:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T11:20:05.157-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you don't let the punter run the option</title><content type='html'>Todd is the nice guy that comes in around the 42 second mark. Click on the link below. I have been laughing all morning.  (Todd is #40 for Texas Tech)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;amp;videoid=677892"&gt;http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;amp;videoid=677892&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few questions for Todd when he gets home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Did you say anything to your teammate when you lifted him up?&lt;br /&gt;2. Was the punter crying?&lt;br /&gt;3. Where did all your muscles go?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2930445047305563298?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2930445047305563298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2930445047305563298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2930445047305563298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2930445047305563298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-you-dont-let-punter-run-option.html' title='Why you don&apos;t let the punter run the option'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1965986915564570985</id><published>2008-07-25T19:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T19:09:23.040-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shave the Other Eyebrow?</title><content type='html'>A member of our family "accidentally" shaved part of his/her eyebrow off yesterday with Todd's electric razor.  So the question I have for you is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Shave the other eyebrow to match?&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;2. Rock the new brow  like Vanilla Ice?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1965986915564570985?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1965986915564570985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1965986915564570985' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1965986915564570985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1965986915564570985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/07/shave-other-eyebrow.html' title='Shave the Other Eyebrow?'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-57200964841537494</id><published>2008-07-17T15:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T16:04:19.103-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy Woes</title><content type='html'>I have been pregnant 6 times in the last 9 years.  Yes I know EXACTLY what you are thinking.  That is a lot of kids. Is she crazy?  Her husband must think she is really hot! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of friends have told me being pregnant is the most glorious time in their life.  They just loooove being pregnant.  Good for them. . . .  they are liars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a glowing, pregnant lady, savoring every blessed moment of the 9 months.  Don't get me wrong,  I love having babies, obviously, I have 5 kids and feel very blessed.  But when I am pregnant, I seem to fall into this deep black hole and don't emerge until that baby has popped out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pregnancy woes that could happen to you.  Read with caution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Swelling&lt;/strong&gt;.  You may be one of the lucky ones, who got a little swelling in your feet, not noticeable at all.  You can still wear your cute shoes etc.  You are also probably one of the liars mentioned above.  My swelling was out of control.  My fingers and toes swelled up like little sausages that could not bend.  I had major "man hand" action going on. (you Seinfeld fans know what I am talking about).  No shoes would fit and when I got a pedicure, I'm sure the technicians drew straws on who had to rub my tree trunk legs.  Folks, not pretty stuff.  My nose totally swelled up.    I will quote Todd directly on this subject.  "You are normally very pretty, but pregnancy just does a number on you."    Isn't he great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Snoring. &lt;/strong&gt;Which was probably due to how massive my nose got while pregnant.  My snoring got so bad, Todd actually had to sleep on the couch. Not even my kids would sleep with me.  Of course I thought they were all exaggerating until I taped myself one night.  Mortified  would not even begin to describe what I heard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Mood Swings&lt;/strong&gt; -  Oh you will read in all the pregnancy books how you may have a few mood swings here and there due to the increase in hormones. blah blah blah.  What they don't tell you is that these so called mood swings can actually cause a normal, sane woman to cry uncontrollably because she missed the latest episode of "House" and it was the worst day ever and her whole life is ruined.   Or mood swings can cause this totally sane woman to stick her tongue out at an obnoxious kid in the line of walmart. She is 30, he was 4.  Or even better yet, fill this woman with such an intense rage that she chased a wild cat 1/2 mile down the street yelling and screaming at it and squirting it with water so it won't come back on her front porch,  in the middle of the day,  with all the neighbors home.  Oh yes, good stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;strong&gt; Sense of smell.&lt;/strong&gt;  My sense of smell was so heightened  it was crazy.  It was like I was some super hero mom that could smell things a mile away. Sounds pretty awesome huh - wrong.  When you smell things you don't like it totally makes you barf. I literally almost barfed on a lady at church when she was talking to me.  Heather can vouch for me.  There  are also a few repeat offenders in my house that make me totally go over the edge of nausea. &lt;br /&gt;Todd's deodorant. &lt;br /&gt;Todd's mouthwash.&lt;br /&gt;Todd's toothpaste. &lt;br /&gt;Bless his heart.  He just turns me green when I am pregnant.  With your new heightened sense of smell, weird things smell really good, like tar, burnt popcorn and beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, those are just a few great things that happen when you are pregnant. I didn't even begin to hit the bodily functions subject.  maybe for a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After typing this,  I am amazed that I have any friends left after being pregnant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-57200964841537494?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/57200964841537494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=57200964841537494' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/57200964841537494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/57200964841537494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/07/pregnancy-woes.html' title='Pregnancy Woes'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-5139530302832649429</id><published>2008-06-15T16:39:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:16.572-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Issues in the Walker House</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So we are getting ready for church today and I notice Todd putting stuff in a little, black backpack that I had in the goodwill box. He is so excited to have something to store all his stuff in. I ask what stuff he is looking to store, kind of dreading where I know this conversation is headed. "Oh you know, my glasses, sunglasses, wallet, money clip, cellphone, bible and pen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ask him if he seriously considering using this back pack. He says of course. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, no offense to people who actually wear backpacks to carry their junk around. I am sure you are really nice and cool. Your back pack is probably really nice and cool as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd's backpack is really small and is probably made for a 3 year old. He is 35. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go off to finish getting one of my 5 kids ready and the next thing I know I see Todd walking around with the backpack on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you actually wearing that to CHURCH!" I asked him. I am mortified. Todd is not the type of person to be wearing the midget backpack. He is a big musclely man who played division 1 football and is very manly, has manly chesthair, and sometimes doesn't wear deodorant. You get the picture. It was totally freaking me out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You probably think I am shallow. Well, that's exactly what Todd said. I then told him if he is going to wear it in public not to walk near me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we had words. . . I called him a dork, he called me immature . . . it was lovely.&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture. Should we bring back the manpack?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212280505714868194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SFW9gQzT_-I/AAAAAAAAAbI/9GCI2G3wk9Q/s320/todd%27s+backpack.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-5139530302832649429?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/5139530302832649429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=5139530302832649429' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5139530302832649429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5139530302832649429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/06/issues-in-walker-house.html' title='Issues in the Walker House'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SFW9gQzT_-I/AAAAAAAAAbI/9GCI2G3wk9Q/s72-c/todd%27s+backpack.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4598471934783384636</id><published>2008-06-15T16:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T16:39:26.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>Well Hello Friends!&lt;br /&gt;After a six month sabbatical, I have decided to get back to blogging.  Here are a few things that have been swimming in my head lately that I am going to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;1. My Pregnancy Woes&lt;br /&gt;2. Todd's ridiculous man backpack&lt;br /&gt;3. Homeschooling myths proven wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for sticking with me.  Even though the only person who may be reading this is Heather who told me she is chaining herself to her laptop till I post again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4598471934783384636?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4598471934783384636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4598471934783384636' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4598471934783384636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4598471934783384636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7293102253275031009</id><published>2008-01-22T10:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:04:15.714-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I met a gangster.  It was awesome</title><content type='html'>So Friday night I had to go to Walmart to buy some diapers for Bella. If any of you ever dare to go to Walmart on a Friday or Saturday night, you know exactly what kind of crowd is there. Let's just say they aren't your typical stay at home mom types. . . enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was standing in line thinking how lame I am to be here on a Friday night, I look at the dude in front of me. He was probably about 18 years old and looked like a gangster. This guy was pretty rough looking, not someone I typically hang out with. But I was thinking "cool", "a real life gangster here in suburnanville." I was hoping he would call some friends so I could hear what was going down on a Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, moving on. If you know me, I will talk to anybody and I decided to talk to this guy. He had one foot that was wrapped up in a ton of gauze and I decided to ask what happened. You know, just making polite conversation in checkout line 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hey Man, what happened to your foot?"&lt;br /&gt;Thug: "I went to the hood last week and this Blood came and shot my foot."&lt;br /&gt;Not quite what I was expecting. . . .It was way better!!&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Ouch, did you loose a toe or two?"&lt;br /&gt;Thug: "Naw, you know when you get shot sometimes. . ."&lt;br /&gt;Me: " Sorry, hasn't happened yet."&lt;br /&gt;Thug: " Yeah, well sometimes when you get shot it just goes like that."&lt;br /&gt;He then proceeded to show me how the bullet brushed over the top of his foot. He used lots of arm motions and was talking loud. I am quite sure everyone heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting conversation. I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He checked out and I told him to avoid those Bloods this weekend. He started laughing and walked off.  It was great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7293102253275031009?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7293102253275031009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7293102253275031009' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7293102253275031009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7293102253275031009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-met-gangster-it-was-awesome.html' title='I met a gangster.  It was awesome'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3179349186455449022</id><published>2008-01-01T08:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:16.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2007 - I survived</title><content type='html'>Well, your lazy blogger friend is back. What can I say, no excuses. I mean, who really wants to read about the time I started pushing the wrong grocery cart, with the wrong kid in it at Target and got the other mom really mad at me. Or when I sang a few songs with the salvation army bell ringer because it was cold outside and he looked lonely and I felt sorry for him and in the process embarrassed my oldest daughter. Also, truth be told, I was kind of curious what it was like to be a bell ringer. Or the time all 4 kids were completely wild and so I put them in their car seats where they were contained and drove around the neighborhood with Christmas music playing so loud I couldn't hear any of them. Good times lately at the Walker home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the highlights for Christmas 2007 if you want the short version.&lt;br /&gt;1. Two nervous breakdowns&lt;br /&gt;2. Forgot Luggage&lt;br /&gt;3. Forgot presents for all the little cousins&lt;br /&gt;4. 1 Trip to the ER on Christmas day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on to the main event. On Christmas eve, we drove to Todd's family for Christmas in Georgetown about 3 hours away, no big deal. When we got there however, I realized that we had forgotten all presents and the older girl's luggage. Now when I say "we" forgot, I use that word loosely if you know what I mean. So at this point, it is late afternoon, I am in a small town that I have never been in before with the daunting task of finding some clothes for Madeline and Savannah, replacement presents for the little cousins, and did I mention I was doing all the cooking on Christmas day and still had to go to the grocery store and buy everything. And it is Christmas Eve, the worst time to shop ever. I think you understand what I was facing. Todd told me it's no big deal. I stare at him thinking he must be having a moment of insanity. No big deal??! I forgave him for that lapse in judgement. Well, here comes breakdown number one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to our destination and all the kids get out. Now if you know me, I rarely cry. I have a high thresh hold for tears and crying. So I am sitting in the car and start crying, full body sobbing. Totally out of character for me. Todd is looking at me with panic all over his face, I'm sure he's thinking I am totally loosing it. He asks me what can he do to help me out. I tell him loudly, "watch our kids and make sure they don't die." He had no comment. And as I remember this I laugh about it. It makes no sense but hey, you act kind of crazy when you have a mental breakdown. That's the whole point. People are more forgiving if you act a little crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So off I go on a mission to get clothes, presents and groceries before all the stores close. To add to my wonderful mental state, I find the saddest song on my ipod and play it over and over again. Probably not the smartest thing to do if you are a little unstable. (FYI - "Everybody Hurts, REM).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at the grocery store, which is packed of course and go pick up my meat that I pre-ordered. I got a prime rib because I don't do ham and I'm not real big on turkey. Well, I get my meat which is a 6 pound prime rib roast. The butcher asks me if I have ever cooked one before. I say no. He starts laughing and says, "don't screw it up, it's all on you." I really felt like throwing the meat back across the counter at him since I was having a mental breakdown and all, but decided against it. . . I casually glance down at the price thinking it would probably be about $15-$20. Are you ready for this, my hunk of meat cost $75 dollars! yep, and I still had to tell my engineer husband who is very efficient and knows exactly where every penny is and is always trying to be a good steward. This was probably not in his game plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back, drop groceries off and hurry out to get presents and clothes. I pray, "Oh God, why me, help me." He did. Nothing too exciting here, but had to drop another wad of cash and report it back to the bookkeeper. In case you were wondering, mental state is better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd now wants to know how much the roast cost. I ask him if he really wants to know. I tell him and all the color drains from his face. But he took it well and didn't say anything. He walks off, maybe to have his own mental breakdown? Anyway, it turned out awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas day - chaotic but fun with all the kids running around wild and pumped up on sugar and coke. All the things they never get so they of course loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas evening. Landon my 4 year old football guru limps in the living room crying and screaming how his hip hurts and falls down and can't walk anymore. He can't straighten up and is doubled over. He is one tough little dude so Todd and are getting a little nervous. He keeps screaming about the pain and can't move. I feel my nervous breakdown coming back and tell Todd to rush him to the ER because I knew he was dying. Well, Todd agreed that something was not right, so off to the ER they went. A few x-rays and a few hours later, we learned that the pain was extreme constipation. Great. Did I mention we were out of network so the bill will probably wipe out the college fund? Anyway, we went home the next day and he is fine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now you know what we were up to this Christmas. How was yours?&lt;br /&gt;My little rascals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150540520024389442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/R3plUHFPN0I/AAAAAAAAAX4/Fb93Y1LSXrA/s400/Christmas2007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3179349186455449022?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3179349186455449022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3179349186455449022' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3179349186455449022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3179349186455449022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2008/01/christmas-2007-i-survived.html' title='Christmas 2007 - I survived'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/R3plUHFPN0I/AAAAAAAAAX4/Fb93Y1LSXrA/s72-c/Christmas2007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-457334393793737378</id><published>2007-11-12T08:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T09:02:15.469-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Hair of Death</title><content type='html'>Some of you know my husband Todd and what kind of guy he is.  He says exactly what he means.  He does not sugar coat things.  Here is an example of what I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning we were driving to church and he says, "WHAT is that smell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "My perfume?"&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "No, did you use some new conditioner or something?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Nope - same stuff.  Maybe you aren't really smelling anything."&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "What's in your hair?  It smells like death."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "DEATH!?"&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "Yeah - what is in your hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I start freaking out. Who wants to smell like death?&lt;br /&gt; I don't smell anything.  He reminds me that out of my 5 senses, I can't smell worth a darn.  He asks me again, "Really Sandi, what is in your hair?"&lt;br /&gt;I tell him I did use some new hair gel and he proceeded to tell me to burn it when I get home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you may be wondering what kind of hair gel it is.  It is actually a really expensive kind that someone gave me from the Aveda salon.  The stuff smells really natural or as Todd describes it, like death, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this point, I am a little self conscious arriving at church, you know, smelling like walking death and all.  I am wondering how far a perimeter I should keep from people so they don't smell my hair of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive and decide not to hug anyone and just say hi from a distance.  Todd comes up after a while and says, "So has anyone said anything about your smell yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't he lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we finish teaching the kiddos, Todd and I head to worship. When it is time to great the people around us, I turn around and say "Hi, I'm Sandi."  And this new girl says, "You have the most beautiful hair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I of course want to check her and see if she is suffering from a high fever or something that causes you to be delirious.  But of course I respond  eloquently and laugh and say it looks like a birds nest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, I told Todd what she said.  He  said she must have a cold or something not to smell it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to everyone I inflicted with the smell of death yesterday - very sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get my revenge on Todd last night and will tell you about it another time.  Good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-457334393793737378?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/457334393793737378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=457334393793737378' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/457334393793737378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/457334393793737378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-hair-of-death.html' title='My Hair of Death'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3481644895824750235</id><published>2007-10-25T08:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T08:26:17.761-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drive Through Experience</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was driving through Shlotzsky's to get a sandwich  and I pull up to the window to pay.  The guy working the window tells me the total - $7.06.  I said cool.  I have plenty of change I tell him.  He of course could care less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then proceed to dig in my coin purse for a nickle.  The coins are stuck in the corner and it is taking forever to get them loose.  It is now in that awkward stage where he is waiting for me to pay him and I am obviously taking too long, cars are behind us, kids are going wild - you get the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look back, I should have just handed him the $10 bill, but I really didn't want anymore change.  I finally get the nickle loose and I pull it from the coin purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment, my hand kind of spazes out of control and I fling the nickle out of my hand and it hits the window guy right in the middle of his forehead, bounces off and lands outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know me, I am a loud laugher and always seem to laugh at the wrong time.  This was probably one of those times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between laughs and snorts, I tell him sorry and give him the $10.  I get my sandwich and get out of there quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do these things always happen to me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3481644895824750235?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3481644895824750235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3481644895824750235' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3481644895824750235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3481644895824750235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/10/drive-through-experience.html' title='Drive Through Experience'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6115146280914806060</id><published>2007-10-18T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T08:13:54.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You So Wish You Were Me</title><content type='html'>Let me give you a little run down of a day last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1am - 3am - neighbor's giant dog barks non stop, right outside my window. I am having violent thoughts in my head that involve Todd's shotgun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:30am - Daughter #2 comes to bed because she is scared. I have only been asleep for 1/2 hour so this was a wonderful blessing. She then proceeds to take my pillow and kick me until morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:30 am - 4 year old son comes to my room and tells me he is so thirsty and do I want him to die or something because I didn't immediately jump up serve him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am - Son who was dying of thirst barfs everywhere. If you know me, I am slightly neurotic about vomit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:31 1/2 am - yell for son to run to bathroom and stay there. secretly hoping he would want to stay there all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:32 am - go out front to get some fresh air, pray to God while pacing around the front porch like a crazy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:33 am - wave to neighbors, they wave back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:15 am - son barfs again. It has been a great morning so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:30 am - discovered Bella (almost 2) has been doing a little body art and colored her entire body with a red sharpie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 am - Bella has a massive blowout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:01 - I discover I am out of diapers and wipes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:02 am - I want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:30 am - Lunch - no one wants to eat the wonderful lunch I made.  They all ate cheerios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 noon - my son who was sick, thought it would be really funny to pretend to barf just to freak me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:30 pm - call a friend and ask them if it really is that bad to discipline out of anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:00 pm - daughter #1 takes the dog's temperature.  He then runs out the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:01 pm - 1:20 - I am chasing our obedient wienie dog around the neighbor hood, barefoot.  I am contemplating letting him go on a little vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:30 pm - my attempt at nap time. Not too successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00 pm - someone squirted toothpaste all over the bathroom.  No one would fess up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:00 pm - Todd came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:01 pm - I left to regain my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6115146280914806060?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6115146280914806060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6115146280914806060' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6115146280914806060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6115146280914806060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/10/you-so-wish-you-were-me.html' title='You So Wish You Were Me'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-229591823957701292</id><published>2007-10-17T07:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T11:29:50.409-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting the New Neighbors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-not-to-do-when-you-first-meet.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you may recall, back in March I wrote about the incident when I  met our new neighbors and how totally cool I was that day.  So cool in fact, that they rush straight in their garage everyday, avoiding eye contact at all costs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, we have a new set of neighbors right next door to them.  They seem pretty nice.  I noticed they work weird hours like 11PM to 4AM or don't go to work for a few days.  They have had their carpets cleaned 2 times in about 4 weeks, have no pets and I have never seen them carry in grocery bags. You may be thinking, Sandi, what are you a stalker?  Nope, just observant and sometimes I really wish I was a private detective and could spy on people all day, but that is a story for another time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, last night they headed out to check the mail together and I thought , perfect, I will go meet them.  I rarely see them together, much less in daylight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I walk up and say, "Hi there.  I'm Sandi.  I live right there."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say, "We know. I'm Tina. . . I'm Hugo."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "Wow - Hugo.  Awesome name. I totally like it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hugo: "Glad to hear that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "Is that how you really say it in your native language?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(I am now trying to act nonchalant after I asked this totally inappropriate question.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hugo: "Well, actually it is Jugo (sounds like yougo with a little throat action going on). No one here calls me that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "Oh cool. I will then." *I proceed to say his name a few times the spanish way.*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point, Todd who was with me mumbles something and heads back inside.  Probably due to extreme embarrassment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: " We have 4 kids."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tina: "I know.  We have heard them."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:"Oh, uhh, sorry.  They really like playing outside."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I then proceed to tell Hugo about all the hispanic families and 1 columbian family that live on our street and how much I love mexican food and how Todd grew up in El Paso and thinks he's hispanic.  I then point out Bella my 1 year old and say she looks hispanic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Seriously people.  WHAT is the matter with me?  I usually have great people skills.  Where is all this strangeness coming from? )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hugo tells me I sure do know what is going on around here.  Not sure if it is a compliment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tell them bye and I hope to seem them again sometime.  Hugo laughs and says, "You are one funny Chica."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I wasn't too offensive after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-229591823957701292?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/229591823957701292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=229591823957701292' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/229591823957701292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/229591823957701292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/10/meeting-new-neighbors.html' title='Meeting the New Neighbors'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8720760954128330685</id><published>2007-10-09T08:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T08:54:06.835-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Second Career</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, Todd told me to sign a form.  I asked what it was.  He said, if you sign this, then when I die you will get some $.  "Alright! Awesome," I said.  Then quickly apologized for my enthusiastic response.&lt;br /&gt;Here is a snippet of the conversation that followed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "So, will I be set for life?"&lt;br /&gt;Todd : "Not quite."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Enough to live in Hawaii and surf and collect shells all day.  Mourning your loss of course."&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "So thankful for your compassion, but if I die soon, you might have to get a job since you are only 30 and we have 4 little kids and college to think of."&lt;br /&gt;Me: " I could always live with my dad."&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "He said no.  Your best bet, would be to get married again."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "WHAT!  I could totally support my kids.  I bet I could even make more than you!"&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "I don't really see that happening."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "There are millions of things I could do."&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "Like what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that got me thinking.  The marriage thing would definitely be out because lets face it,  who wants to marry a person with FOUR kids and is kind of crazy.  Besides, the only man I could attract would be my 60 year old neighbor from Thailand who has a major case of halitosis (bad breath). Todd is my one and only for life, so that took me back to the career thing. . . what would I do . . . here is what I came up with - Things that I would love to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Be a drummer in a band.  I totally could rock the stage and I would be performing when the kids where sleeping. Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;2. Spa tester.  Not even sure this exists, but I would go around the world and test out spa's and give them reviews of their service.&lt;br /&gt;3. Go live with the Amish. &lt;br /&gt;3. Get my own cable TV show.  This is my personal favorite.  I could interview all my friends.  Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the list ends there.  So I just told Todd, "Don't die babe."&lt;br /&gt; He said, "Maybe I should take some insurance out on you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8720760954128330685?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8720760954128330685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8720760954128330685' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8720760954128330685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8720760954128330685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-second-career.html' title='My Second Career'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3202271197799463947</id><published>2007-10-09T08:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T08:19:42.747-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>Well friends, sorry for the long break, but I am back with many stories about my crazy life.  Thanks to all 4 of my readers that &lt;span &gt;stuck with me. I will try not to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappoint&lt;/span&gt; you my blogger friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3202271197799463947?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3202271197799463947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3202271197799463947' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3202271197799463947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3202271197799463947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1382429021934934334</id><published>2007-08-13T10:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T10:56:06.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tip #1 For Husbands -               What NOT to say to your wife</title><content type='html'>Sunday morning before church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "There's something in your hair and I don't think it's a maggot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Screaming loudly and shaking my hair out like a wild woman and in the process totally scaring my little baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(What was in my hair? A feather from my pillow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd: "I did say it wasn't a maggot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*In case you haven't figured it out by now, Todd and I are one unique couple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1382429021934934334?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1382429021934934334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1382429021934934334' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1382429021934934334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1382429021934934334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/08/tip-1-for-husbands-what-not-to-say-to.html' title='Tip #1 For Husbands -               What NOT to say to your wife'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6190880982121476833</id><published>2007-08-03T07:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T08:40:00.512-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Drive Back to Fort Worth</title><content type='html'>After a fun week at the beach, we loaded up the mini v and headed back to Fort Worth.  Things started out pretty good until Todd started to get a really bad headache.  He claims it is because of my driving skillz and the fact that I didn't hug him enough that day.  Whatever . . .  He should have taken his Advil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is sitting in the back row of the mini v and he asks me where the water jug is.  "Why?", I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just in case," Todd say.  I am starting to get a little nervous because he is acting really weird.  "Just in case of what?" &lt;br /&gt;"In case I need to barf" Todd tells me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am going to stop here for a moment and tell you a little trivia about me.  I am extremely afraid of throw up.  To say I am afraid is a major understatement.  It is a real life phobia.  Mentioning that you might barf makes me break out in hives all over my body and do really crazy things.  What crazy things you ask.  Well, for instance, when one of my daughters was going to throw up a few years ago, I locked her in the backyard and spoke to her through a cracked window, avoiding eye contact.  (Don't worry, I really am a good mom). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think you are starting to see my delima here.  I start freaking out yelling at Todd, "are you going to barf right now."  "What about now?"  "Now?"  I realize now that I was pretty obnoxious.  My breathing becomes quick and shallow and I feel the hives coming.  He yells back, "watch the road!"  But I can't seem to get it together.  He is right in the middle of my rear view mirror and I have a clear picture of him holding the water jug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd is a very dramatic barfer.  He is loud and violent. . .     Are you starting to feel the urgency of the situation now?&lt;br /&gt;He says pull over because it is getting really bad.  I exit the highway going about 80 mph and roll through a stop sign.  He feels the need to lecture me. Probably not the best time to talk to me about driving laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think it was a big deal since we were in the middle of nowhere and there was not one single human or car or anything in sight.   Besides, I have been watching 24 and learning a lot from Jack Bauer on emergency driving techniques.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We exit off the highway, I am freaking out since he is about to throw up in front of me and what do we see.  A little country church.  We stop, he hops out and I tell him to get away from us.  He goes and lays under a tree.  I unload all the kids and head the opposite direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me describe the scenery.  There is the lone, little country church, acres and acres of farmland, cows and us.  Other than that nothing.  Sounds great huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Todd says he is going to sleep under the tree until he feels better.  I take the kids exploring.  It is 5PM and very hot outside, after all, it was July in Texas.  We walk up to the church and it is unlocked.  Awesome.  I peek in to check it out.  It is dark but a lot cooler than being outside.  We stand in the entry for a few moments cooling off.  I didn't think God would mind. There is a giant crucifix hanging up front and after a while I am starting to get a little creeped out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong here.  I love Jesus, but it was a little weird just standing in the dark in a strange place.  So the kiddos and I decide to leave and go look at the cows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look at the cows and over and hour later, yes, it was that long we were waiting on Todd, we load up and begin leg 2 of the journey home.  It was also eventful, but I think you have had enough of the Walkers for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6190880982121476833?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6190880982121476833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6190880982121476833' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6190880982121476833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6190880982121476833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/08/drive-back-to-fort-worth.html' title='The Drive Back to Fort Worth'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7815927073423488746</id><published>2007-08-03T07:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:18.062-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Vacation Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; We finally arrive at South Padre after a long drive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here is a picture of the happy family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMxPqdrOLI/AAAAAAAAAXE/TyFsC5ALL3A/s1600-h/Happy+family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094469748652718258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMxPqdrOLI/AAAAAAAAAXE/TyFsC5ALL3A/s320/Happy+family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What this picture does not reveal is the frustration of locking yourself out of your condo a few times, losing the sheets to your bed, the iritating whining and crying from your husband and son due to a bad sand scrape in a delicate area. Other than that, the actual vacation was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did lots of swimming, building sand castles, avoiding the drunk hippie surfer and crab hunting at night. It was fun.&lt;br /&gt;I know I don't normally post pictures, but here are a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Savannah, Bella &amp; Madeline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMwNadrOHI/AAAAAAAAAWk/6PeQSLTbmx4/s1600-h/Girls+in+water.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094468610486384754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMwNadrOHI/AAAAAAAAAWk/6PeQSLTbmx4/s320/Girls+in+water.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMwNadrOII/AAAAAAAAAWs/plow5TU4Mhs/s1600-h/Mommy+and+girls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094468610486384770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMwNadrOII/AAAAAAAAAWs/plow5TU4Mhs/s320/Mommy+and+girls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savannah and a big crab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094468614781352082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMwNqdrOJI/AAAAAAAAAW0/-QgWvpuuwxc/s320/Savannah+and+crab.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMyoadrONI/AAAAAAAAAXU/20gy6tgOzE8/s1600-h/Bella+hiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094471273366108370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMyoadrONI/AAAAAAAAAXU/20gy6tgOzE8/s400/Bella+hiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  The End . . . Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7815927073423488746?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7815927073423488746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7815927073423488746' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7815927073423488746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7815927073423488746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/08/beach-vacation-part-2.html' title='Beach Vacation Part 2'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RrMxPqdrOLI/AAAAAAAAAXE/TyFsC5ALL3A/s72-c/Happy+family.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2845666909634909738</id><published>2007-07-23T07:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T08:37:48.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Vacation - Part 1</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the long break - We have been on vacation for nearly 2 weeks.   We went to the beach at South Padre Island.  Yes it was totally awesome. But before you start getting too jealous, let me give you a glimpse into the ride down there.  You might change your  mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had to stop the car 5 times for bathroom breaks.  This was all within the first 2 hours of leaving Fort Worth.  I quit counting after the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;67 or more- The number of times we heard, "Are we there yet? What's taking so long? Where are we?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The long car ride made the kids invent some interesting games.  At one point, I heard my sweet #2 child yell, "Mommy, I caught the devil."    Um, yeah, Todd and I were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;speechless&lt;/span&gt; too.  At this point, we tried to tune into a radio station (our tape deck was broken).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, all we could pick up was rap music.  Who would have guessed since we were on highway 281,  which is total Texas country land.  Anyway, we jammed out to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Whoomp&lt;/span&gt; there it is."  Good times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We could only handle a rap or two so after that, Todd and I decided we should probably talk to each other.  Strengthen our bonds of marriage or whatever.  This is how most conversations started. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conversation #1&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: "I think I might want to be a body builder."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd: "Wow - that's scary!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: "What - Why?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd: "You on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Roids&lt;/span&gt; - yikes."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conversation #2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd: "Just when you think you've met all the cool people in the world, you meet more cool people."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: (I didn't respond, just trying to figure out what in the world he was talking about since we were in the middle of nowhere looking at cows and wheat)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conversation #3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I notice that the liner on the outside of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;windshield&lt;/span&gt; started flapping up on the passengers side where I was sitting.   We were going 80 mph.  Thinking I could be facing death soon I ask Todd,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: "Do you think the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;windshield&lt;/span&gt; is going to crash in?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd: "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Doesn't&lt;/span&gt; matter, we have insurance."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was only slightly offended.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After all this great bonding we decided to just look out the window. Only 6 hours left. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2845666909634909738?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2845666909634909738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2845666909634909738' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2845666909634909738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2845666909634909738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/07/beach-vacation-part-1.html' title='Beach Vacation - Part 1'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8046200796787158479</id><published>2007-07-10T10:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T10:34:02.879-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My run in with the Police</title><content type='html'>I have 4 kids ages 7,5, 4, &amp; 1 1/2.  They are great kids but lately they have been getting into the habit of taking their seat belt buckles off when we are driving around.  Not a big deal if you live on a farm  or somewhere remote but we live in a major Texas city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was really driving me crazy having to stop and buckle up the kids and give them the speech "if I got in a wreck, you could die."  For some reason, that just doesn't faze them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning, I visited my local police station.  I went inside and asked for a really tough looking police officer.  The receptionist gave me a weird look so I quickly explained that I needed him to give my kids a speech.  She went to fetch him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few moments later, a big copper came and he looked tough!  He even had the aviator shades on and everything.  It was great.  He said, "Mam can I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: " My kids keep taking their buckles off. Can you give them a little speech about how important it is they keep them on?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "Am I on a hidden video?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (now feeling slightly foolish) "Uh no, just me, hahah (nervous laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "OK.  But I am not in the business of scaring kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Can't you scare them just a little?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: no answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: " Can you also say something about how they need to eat their fruits and vegetables everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't answer again.   I feel like a dork and I know they are silently memorizing my license plate number so they can look me up later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We then proceed to the car where my kids were waiting for their "surprise."  The police man looks in and proceeds to tell them to wear their buckles at all times or their mommy would go to jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, they were speechless.  I was of course holding in my laughter, trying not to snort.  It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also told them to eat all their fruits and vegetables so they would be good little kids.  They nodded in agreement.  Landon, my 4 year old, he was frozen still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, worked out great.  They kept their buckles on and came home and everybody immediatly asked for an apple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I highly recommend this little outing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8046200796787158479?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8046200796787158479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8046200796787158479' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8046200796787158479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8046200796787158479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-run-in-with-police.html' title='My run in with the Police'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-926279044913468277</id><published>2007-07-10T10:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T10:11:28.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Humbled</title><content type='html'>Dear friends,&lt;br /&gt;Todd and I are humbled by all the prayers, encouraging words and meals that we received this past week.  You all are the picture of Christ's love.  Many blessings to all of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-926279044913468277?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/926279044913468277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=926279044913468277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/926279044913468277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/926279044913468277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-humbled.html' title='I&apos;m Humbled'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6005430330573474698</id><published>2007-06-20T19:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T20:10:27.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kind of Parent I Am</title><content type='html'>The other day my friend called.  Did I mention she is the Pastor's wife?  So my sweet friend asks what I was doing.   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  How exactly do I answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend who is a great mom was probably teaching her kids bible verses or filling their minds with the things of God.  You know, the good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I tell her what I am about to do or what I am currently doing. &lt;br /&gt;Yep, honesty won out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well, I am, uh, actually teaching my kids the dance to Napoleon Dynamite."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(slight pause . . .  Then me making excuses quite fast. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's really clean you know and I am about to start dinner.  Good exercise etc."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you start to question my parenting skills, admit it,  you wish you could do that dance too.  It's totally awesome.  Most of you have probably already tried it but do it in secret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next party, I will show you my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skillz&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(My friend did call back in case you were wondering)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6005430330573474698?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6005430330573474698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6005430330573474698' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6005430330573474698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6005430330573474698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/06/kind-of-parent-i-am.html' title='The Kind of Parent I Am'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8132451567184649520</id><published>2007-06-07T08:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T09:03:38.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Officially Entered Middle Age</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I turned the big 30 this past Sunday. Some of you may be shocked because you thought I was already in my 30's due to my maturity, wisdom, and the fact I have a million kids already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of my friends tell me they just "loooove" being in their 30's. I think they are trying to syke themselves out or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I have done a ton of great things in my life up to now, there were still a few things I wished I would have done in my 20's. Below are a few things that came to mind. For all my friends in their 20's, take note. Because when you reach your 30's, people will be expecting you to act like a grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;1. Drive a wickedly cool car, even if you have to rent it. Let's face it, once you have kids, you enter the mini van stage, not exactly a head turner. I always wanted to drive a car with jacked up hydraulics and flashing neon lights. You know you are thinking the same thing deep down inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;2. Use words like, wicked, you're trippin man, that's dope, off the chain, my peeps, that's the bomb, word up, yo yo homie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;3. Do something physically adventurous. And do it outside. No one will ever be remembered for playing Nintendo or watching every single episode of Friends. For me, I should have tried extreme rock climbing, sky diving, or riding "Mr. Freeze" at six flags. Now I am too chicken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;4. Do something totally funky with your hair, at least once. Add a streak of hot pink or cut it crazy. I can't do it now for obvious reasons. I would look like a complete idiot with 4 1/2 kids at walmart with a punk hairdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Try out for American Idol - the age cutoff is 28. OK, now this may not be for everyone and I have probably only seen about 3 episodes ever, but I totally think I could have rocked it because of my karaoke skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(On a side note, our church is having vocal auditions next week. Maybe I could pretend it was american idol and after I sing, Brian could hand me a yellow sheet and say, "You're going to Hollywood." )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's about it for now.&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8132451567184649520?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8132451567184649520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8132451567184649520' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8132451567184649520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8132451567184649520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-officially-entered-middle-age.html' title='I Have Officially Entered Middle Age'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2248384883224423782</id><published>2007-05-22T07:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T07:55:18.038-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not dead - just feel like I'm dying!</title><content type='html'>Sorry friends for the 2 week break.  Some of you may know that I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;prego&lt;/span&gt; with baby number 5 and little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cinco&lt;/span&gt; is making me the sickest I have ever been.  Here are a few things in my life right now that throw me into a tailspin of sickness that is hard to recover from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Todd's deodorant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Todd's Listerine&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Todd's cologne&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Todd's sunscreen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I told him these things, he said, "So basically you find me all together repulsive."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess from his perspective the list would be a little insulting. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I also can't stand cat food commercials.  You know the kind where they dish it out into crystal bowls and it is brown and squishy looking and they are trying to make it look like it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gourmet&lt;/span&gt; or something.  I am gagging right now recalling the memory.&lt;/p&gt;If you see me, beware, my super mom sense of smell is on high alert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming up tomorrow. Things I want to do before I turn 30.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2248384883224423782?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2248384883224423782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2248384883224423782' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2248384883224423782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2248384883224423782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-not-dead-just-feel-like-im-dying.html' title='I&apos;m not dead - just feel like I&apos;m dying!'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6230493188249781332</id><published>2007-05-08T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T09:38:03.422-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Garage Sale Adventure</title><content type='html'>Last week after I dropped the girls off at school, I went to Starbucks and got a coffee.  When I got to my neighborhood I noticed that everyone was having a garage sale. I thought let's go check it out.  What else do I have to do?  All that was waiting me at home was my never ending laundry piles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got out of the car with my 2 little ones, which by the way were barefoot and in their pajamas and were a little dirty from breakfast.  After all, we were just headed home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am carrying my coffee in my right hand just looking at the junk my neighbor was selling.  All of a sudden, my right arm just freaks out or something.  I have a major muscle spasm and my arm just jerks out of control for no apparent reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was so forceful it popped the top off my Starbucks cup and drenched the front of my shirt.  Did I mention that I was wearing a white t-shirt?  Yeah it was pretty embarrassing.  The owner of the house looked at my really bizarrely and said, "Are you OK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Oh yeah, I'm fine.  This happens all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What???  Why did I say that?  This never happens.  So she is thinking I probably suffer from turrets or some weird muscular problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wandered around a few minutes longer trying to look somewhat normal  and not like I was on an outing with my "group therapy" friends and my case worker was lurking by if you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cross the street and walk up to the next house.  This particular owner has a really hip garage sale going on as far as garage sales go.  He is offering donuts, coffee and playing music and wearing a really goofy hat and kind of trying to dance to the music.  I like this guy I feel at home with all the dorkiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk over to the coffee and donuts with my 2 kids that look like street kids at this point and the owner says to me, "Would you like some coffee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I had a chance to respond, he speaks to me in a really loud voice ,"WOW lady, looks like you already had some today!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so loud that everyone turned to look at me or should I say the large brown stain on my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just smile and say, "I sure did and it was great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People were awkwardly trying to avoid me.   Not sure if it was the coffee stain or my singing.  I mean he was playing some really good music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I finally rounded up the street kids and headed home, back to normalville.  At least for a moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6230493188249781332?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6230493188249781332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6230493188249781332' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6230493188249781332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6230493188249781332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/05/garage-sale-adventure.html' title='Garage Sale Adventure'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3050275815408186545</id><published>2007-04-27T10:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T10:20:23.176-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>I am driving down the road and the kids are totally out of control and going nuts in the mini v.  Obviously speaking before thinking, I yell, "everyone quiet or I am going to pull over and you know what happens then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" The only noise I want to hear is myself breathing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(they are quietly laughing at me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few seconds pass and I drive by a sign that says "April is child abuse awareness month."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3050275815408186545?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3050275815408186545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3050275815408186545' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3050275815408186545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3050275815408186545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7427663725560724935</id><published>2007-04-27T08:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T08:57:24.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What a week</title><content type='html'>Well, sorry it has been a week since my last post blogger friends.  It's been a busy week.  What's kept me away you ask?  Maybe I have been spending every free moment bonding with my children, instilling them with valuable life lessons.  Or maybe I have been donating my free time to those in need, helping the elderly, feeding the poor,  or better yet, maybe I have been cooking meals from scratch and ironing all of Todd's clothes for work and making our home a little slice of heaven for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the sad truth.  I got a new mouse pad from dell and it stinks so bad.  I mean the smell is so noxious that I can't even come near my computer without gagging.  Never mind that Todd, the kiddos or even my neighbor who I had come take a test sniff can't  smell anything.  But believe me, there is a certain rubbery smell that grosses me out.  It must be my super mom sense - kind of like spider man and his spidey sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may be wondering how I can manage to type right now.  Only my love for you, my 4 devoted blog readers,  is pushing me through right now.  So I am going to get some coffee and then I will be back to tell you about my night of fun in little Mexico/ the ghetto.  curious?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7427663725560724935?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7427663725560724935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7427663725560724935' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7427663725560724935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7427663725560724935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-week.html' title='What a week'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8100411633151517756</id><published>2007-04-19T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T09:57:54.398-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I learned in the middle of the night</title><content type='html'>I was up last night from 12:30-6:30 with a sick kid.  I had a few revelations and thought I would pass them on to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Birds chirp at 1am. . . . right outside my window.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People do shop at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt; at 1:45 am.  They are just weird, drunk, or crazy like me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Counting sheep does not work (2 am)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Warm milk does nothing for inducing sleep.  If anything, it makes you want a little snack. (2:10am)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have always heard that watching kids and babies sleep is so peaceful.  I must be a bad person.  It made me bitter. (3 am)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would not suggest plucking your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;eyebrows&lt;/span&gt; when you are sleep deprived and you can't turn on any lights except your flashlight.  You will regret your decision when the sun comes up. (3:20am)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spiders come out when it is dark. Wear socks (3:55am).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People can feel you staring at them when they are sleeping. &lt;br /&gt;They do not wake up happy when they realize you don't need anything. (4:10am)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People that tell you to call them anytime, really don't mean it. 5am&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only really sleep deprived, whacked out individuals blog before the sun is up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8100411633151517756?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8100411633151517756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8100411633151517756' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8100411633151517756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8100411633151517756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/things-i-learned-in-middle-of-night.html' title='Things I learned in the middle of the night'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7105042676642510663</id><published>2007-04-14T20:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T20:37:21.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brush With Death</title><content type='html'>Last night, about 6Pm, Todd and I loaded up the 4 kiddos in the mini -v for a family outing.  We were about 1 mile from our home and the tornado sirens started going off like crazy.  I look back at Todd (I was driving) and say, hey babe, should we go back home?  He says nah.  We look at the sky and it is totally bright and sunny, just a little gray way off in the distance.  No big deal.  I said, "Yeah, they are probably just testing them out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should have been warning number 1. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With complete lack of judgement we proceed and get on 35 south headed out to 820.  I glance out to the right and it is really black and ominous.  I'm thinking this doesn't look good and turn on the radio to catch the weather report.  They are telling people to take cover immediately at Texas Motor Speedway because of hail.  Ok, that's about 10 or so miles away, we're fine and we go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should have been warning #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Minutes later the sky is completely black, with low circulating clouds.  The radio says a major storm is about to hit us.  We exit on 820 to go back home and we are sitting in the access road in major traffic and are told a tornado is near 35 headed our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start freaking out.  Kids are crying.  Todd is craning his neck looking for a tornado.  Traffic is not moving.  I told Todd let's just leave our car here and run across the street to a nearby hotel.  He said that is stupid.  I said dying is stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic finally starts moving and we turn on the street to go home.  Weather man says if you are at Beach st &amp; 820, take cover immediately - baseball sized hail.  Guess where we were.  yep.  That exact location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost immediately, our car was pounded with hail.  I am screaming "Oh my God we're going to die!"  I tell the kids to duck and cover.  Todd is yelling at me to quit yelling.  I think he was scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick up my tennis back pack and drive with it over my head because I thought the hail was going to crash through the windows and knock me out and the mini-v would go out of control.  I thought this was quick thinking like Jack Bauer but apparently is wasn't.  Todd told me later the windshield would not have broken apart.  How was I to know that.  It's not something I usually talk about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a tornado was reported a few miles where we were.  I said Todd pray.  He says not right now.  WHAT.  We are facing death.  What was he thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd:"  God, keep us safe. amen."&lt;br /&gt;The kids crying in fear: " That's not good enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More yelling from me that we are all going to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd makes me pull over although my driving was pretty awesome considering I was driving with one hand, holding a back pack over my head and ducking down during a rain/hail storm.  He starts driving.  Now I can really freak out from the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet daughter asks if a tornado is bad.  Todd says it can blow your house away.  If you are a parent, I would suggest that you never say this.  The result is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hail stops.  We make it home and it is sunny again.  Crazy Texas weather.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few lessons learned:&lt;br /&gt;*Tornado sirens go off for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;*Never scream "We are going to die" in front of your kids.&lt;br /&gt;*Near death experiences are not all they are cracked up to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7105042676642510663?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7105042676642510663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7105042676642510663' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7105042676642510663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7105042676642510663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-brush-with-death.html' title='My Brush With Death'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7839210102098494837</id><published>2007-04-10T11:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T11:21:59.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Buy This Shirt</title><content type='html'>It's for a good cause.  Some of my friends are walking in the 3 Day Breat Cancer Awareness walk here in Dallas. They need to raise 15K.  The shirt if pretty cool and is only $20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.queensofthefight.com"&gt;www.queensofthefight.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7839210102098494837?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7839210102098494837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7839210102098494837' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7839210102098494837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7839210102098494837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/buy-this-shirt.html' title='Buy This Shirt'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-682401376705382756</id><published>2007-04-09T19:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T19:14:29.240-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Married Talk</title><content type='html'>Todd:  I hear all the fat, bald guys get babes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (looking at him)  1 out 2 isn't bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-682401376705382756?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/682401376705382756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=682401376705382756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/682401376705382756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/682401376705382756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/hot-married-talk.html' title='Hot Married Talk'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-5778997293949091339</id><published>2007-04-05T15:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T15:49:49.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctor Visit</title><content type='html'>I went for a physical yesterday just for the heck of it . After the doctor checked me out, tested my reflexes (they were fast), listened to my breathing (just fine), took my blood pressure (116/68 for you curious ones out there), the doctor then asked me when my last tetanus shot was. I told her I probably never had one. Well, she told me it was imperative that I get one today. I was feeling a little bit on the naughty side since I had been waiting in the little room for about 1 hour reading the same heart burn advertisement. So I said , why do I need one and is it really necessary? The doctor did not take my questioning her obvious superior intellect very well. She took off her glasses and raised her voice and told me a tetanus infection is very serious and could lead to death, not a joking matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you see where this is headed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her about the following scenarios, you know, just in case:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: So if I was walking along a dirt road near an abandoned construction site and stepped on a really rusty nail and got a big cut in my foot, would I need a tetanus shot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: If I was fishing and a big gust of wind caught my fishing line and the hook came around and stuck me in the arm, or head or somewhere fleshy, would I need a tetanus shot then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: most definitely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What if I was mugged by a homeless dude that was covered in old rusty piercings and one of the many piercings scratched me? Would it be necessary then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: Do you want the shot or not?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do I get a lollipop?&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Hmmm, I'll take my chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left in a hurry. They probably coded my chart as a problem patient.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-5778997293949091339?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/5778997293949091339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=5778997293949091339' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5778997293949091339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5778997293949091339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/doctor-visit.html' title='Doctor Visit'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4606822128357308464</id><published>2007-04-01T14:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T14:14:26.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I finally posted some new pics of the kids so if you are interested, click on the link on the right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4606822128357308464?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4606822128357308464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4606822128357308464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4606822128357308464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4606822128357308464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-finally-posted-some-new-pics-of-kids.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2475916108646788096</id><published>2007-04-01T13:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T14:04:12.232-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Fun</title><content type='html'>How long does it take a grown woman to get totally soaking wet in a massive rain storm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a picture for proof.  I will not publish unless there is a high demand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2475916108646788096?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2475916108646788096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2475916108646788096' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2475916108646788096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2475916108646788096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/04/friday-night-fun.html' title='Friday Night Fun'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4100873358067298562</id><published>2007-03-30T08:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:18.591-06:00</updated><title type='text'>March Madness</title><content type='html'>March is typically my least favorite month of the year. Here are a few reasons why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;1. Crickets start chirping. Not a big deal for county folks, but this city girl can't stand the sound of crickets, especially when I am trying to sleep. And for those of you that know me, I like to sleep 8-9 hour each night. The crickets start making their noise in March and chirp the entire night outside my bedroom window. I have resorted to spraying them with water at 2am just to get them to quit. They quite literally bring me to tears. Click on the link to experience it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://freesound.iua.upf.edu/samplesViewSingle.php?id=22344"&gt;http://freesound.iua.upf.edu/samplesViewSingle.php?id=22344&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Isn't that just so soothing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;2. Also in March, a family of Swallows (Birds) decides to make their home on my front porch and have babies (2 sets with 7 babies each time). You are probably thinking, aww, so cute. Let me correct you here you tree hugger. This is the 6 year in a row that they have lived here. They make a mud nest right on top of my front door and live here for 4+ months. I have been pecked on the head a few times and plus birds are dirty and noisy. I have knocked their nest down so many times and they rebuild it within the hour. I went to Wild Bird Center and the only thing they said I could do was to put fake snakes all around my door and entry way. Not very welcoming and it might scar the kids for life. It would look like the Walker House of Darkness, however, the number of solicitors would probably drop dramatically.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047734810670656018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rg0oEPZl6hI/AAAAAAAAATc/CYNG3IKRB7A/s320/bird.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;3. March has weird weather. It's not hot enough to turn your air on or cold enough for the heat. It is also a high tornado month. All this strange weather results in lots of humidity which is just great because I then have an Afro for an entire month. No I will not post a picture.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;4. St. Patrick's Day. I don't enjoy getting pinched all day because I forgot to wear green. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;5. Last, this is when the worms come out. I guess it is all that weird weather or something. I don't really have anything against worms, but my kids love to collect them and bring them in to show me. Nothing like having a long worm on your kitchen counter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047734819260590626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rg0oEvZl6iI/AAAAAAAAATk/cnhyHApjFRo/s320/worm.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Anybody with me out there??????&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4100873358067298562?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4100873358067298562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4100873358067298562' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4100873358067298562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4100873358067298562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/march-madness.html' title='March Madness'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rg0oEPZl6hI/AAAAAAAAATc/CYNG3IKRB7A/s72-c/bird.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1621479293221245715</id><published>2007-03-28T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T10:16:02.788-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mind of  a 3 year old</title><content type='html'>My 3 1/2 year old son will now only answer to the name of Jack Bauer and will get mad if I call him Landon. He wears camo and pretends to shoot bad guys (namely his sisters) because according to him that's what Jack does. No need to call CPS, he hasn't actually seen 24, just Todd and I talking about how cool Jack is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess calling him Jack Bauer isn't so bad. During football season, I could only call him T.O. And sometimes Troy Aikman. And yes, I had to do it in public. Nothing more embarrassing than calling a little blonde, white boy T.O.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1621479293221245715?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1621479293221245715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1621479293221245715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1621479293221245715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1621479293221245715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/mind-of-3-year-old.html' title='The Mind of  a 3 year old'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-674879412116769440</id><published>2007-03-21T11:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T11:48:10.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Here</title><content type='html'>My lovely new Dell.  Black and silver - very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone knows how to get my favorite pictures, documents etc off my old computer, I will buy you a drink at Starbucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-674879412116769440?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/674879412116769440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=674879412116769440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/674879412116769440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/674879412116769440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-here.html' title='It&apos;s Here'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8184668837351849806</id><published>2007-03-20T09:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T09:59:59.322-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning at the gym</title><content type='html'>I was at the gym yesterday morning doing my normal workout and a guy came up to me and said ,"You lift those weights really nice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the witty person I am,  I responded ,"uh , thanks."  I gave a little half smile to be polite and got back to my bicep curls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was working out, I noticed this same guy was kind of following me around.  Now before you start calling Todd, don't freak out or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gym admirer was at least 80 years old, bald and probably had cataracts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8184668837351849806?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8184668837351849806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8184668837351849806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8184668837351849806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8184668837351849806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/morning-at-gym.html' title='Morning at the gym'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7328617080242339726</id><published>2007-03-18T14:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T14:48:53.885-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joys Of Dieting</title><content type='html'>A conversation in our house last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ugggg!  I feel so fat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sweet Daughter:  You're not fat.  You are so skinny mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd:  You could always be fatter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7328617080242339726?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7328617080242339726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7328617080242339726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7328617080242339726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7328617080242339726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/joys-of-dieting.html' title='The Joys Of Dieting'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1390972316405738651</id><published>2007-03-18T14:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T14:46:59.572-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Dead!!!!</title><content type='html'>Just my computer.  It crashed.  I am at a friend's house.  Never fear blogger friends.  I ordered a new computer and will be here in a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1390972316405738651?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1390972316405738651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1390972316405738651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1390972316405738651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1390972316405738651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-not-dead.html' title='I&apos;m Not Dead!!!!'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1281497422984799968</id><published>2007-03-11T08:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T10:46:50.518-06:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Things I Do To Cheer Myself Up</title><content type='html'>10. Drive around the neighborhood with the windows down yelling random things like, "Whoo Hee," and "Sandi Rocks," (Then drive really fast so they don't recognize me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Talk in pig latin to Todd until it drives him crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Make Crank Calls. You have to use a neighbors house or a pay phone since everyone except us has caller Id now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Read old yearbooks and see how cool I used to be in High school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Sing karaoke to my favorite rock songs. ex: "Welcome to the Jungle" GnR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Eat nothing but old Valentine's Candy and drink coffee all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Take a tennis ball and try to hit it over my neighbor's house without them knowing and without hitting a window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Go to a public place like starbucks or target or the mall and talk in a different accent. My accents of choice are british and ebonics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Watch reruns of Magnum P.I. ( love this show)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Learn the dance scene from Napoleon Dynamite and perform it for family, friends, neighbor or just about anyone who will watch. The trick is to act like you are totally serious and trying out for star search.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1281497422984799968?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1281497422984799968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1281497422984799968' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1281497422984799968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1281497422984799968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/10-things-i-do-to-cheer-myself-up_3827.html' title='10 Things I Do To Cheer Myself Up'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6788297232500716432</id><published>2007-03-10T19:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T19:53:47.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger won't publish my posts!  What do I do? Help!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6788297232500716432?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6788297232500716432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6788297232500716432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6788297232500716432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6788297232500716432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/blogger-wont-publish-my-posts-what-do-i.html' title='Blogger won&apos;t publish my posts!  What do I do? Help!!!'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-35903638270108007</id><published>2007-03-05T08:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T09:10:20.568-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Not to Do When You First Meet Someone</title><content type='html'>So I went to introduce myself to my new neighbor yesterday. I cross the street and walk up to him. He is working on his fence that fell down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say "Hi, I'm Sandi and I live right there."  He introduces himself.  I forgot his name.  He says, "We have been meaning to bring cookies to all the neighbors but haven't gotten around to it."  I said, "Yeah me too.  I have been meaning to bring you  some cookies but we keep eating them all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as it came out, I wished I could stuff those words right back in.  He of course had no comment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was wearing a Vote For Pedro shirt.  I said "Sweet" shirt. I was trying to be funny like Neoploen Dynamite. . . I didn't pull it off.   He gives me a charity smile. Just see the movie. It's better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this point I am 0 for 2.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tells me he doesn't have kids yet but maybe oneday.  I said, "I have four.  You can borrow 1 or more anytime.  I have all ages."  I start to chuckle at my hilarity. . . my nameless neighbor did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggg - the word vomit.  It keeps on coming.  What is the matter with me.  He of course had to get back inside immediately.  Can you blame the guy?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back inside and take a look in the mirror. My hair is of course wild and crazy.  There are a few little feathers in it from my feather pillow and I have a pillow crease on my cheek from my nap.  Lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I forget to mention that I was wearing my green Camp K shirt and bright red sweat pants.  Good combination.  On top of everything else, he probably thinks I am color blind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-35903638270108007?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/35903638270108007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=35903638270108007' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/35903638270108007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/35903638270108007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-not-to-do-when-you-first-meet.html' title='What Not to Do When You First Meet Someone'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-6624467844801826304</id><published>2007-02-28T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T09:40:47.285-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks I think</title><content type='html'>Starting tomorrow I am going to facillitate a women's bible study at our church. I mentioned to Todd that I hope I do ok. Here is his response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If God can use a donkey,  I guess he might be able to use you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh,  thanks Todd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-6624467844801826304?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/6624467844801826304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=6624467844801826304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6624467844801826304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/6624467844801826304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/thanks-i-think.html' title='Thanks I think'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3696179924957016135</id><published>2007-02-28T09:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T09:38:07.835-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Coolness Factor</title><content type='html'>So this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sunday&lt;/span&gt; at church, my friend Bill (www.udfddesign.com) came up to me and told me that blogs were supposed to make you look cool and make you look good. Apparently, I come across pretty dorky on my blog. I think I am kind of cool but I guess not according to Bill. He would know what cool is. Bill shaves his head bald and wears a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gotee&lt;/span&gt;. He plays &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;electic&lt;/span&gt; guitar or bass or something and sings and does web stuff. He is someone you want to know. He is one cool dude, maybe not as cool as Jack Bauer (sorry Bill) but pretty close. So Bill, here are some things about me that make me "cool".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have met a few famous people.  Troy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aikman&lt;/span&gt;, John Madden, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Emmitt&lt;/span&gt; Smith, Oliver North, Sean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hannity&lt;/span&gt;, Harry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Connick&lt;/span&gt; Jr. (twice), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Shania&lt;/span&gt; Twain, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cadmens&lt;/span&gt; Call . Now do any of these people remember me?  No, but have you met any of them????&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Everytime&lt;/span&gt; I go to my normal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;starbucks&lt;/span&gt;, the staff says "Hi Sandi" and gets my coffee ready. (This seems to happen at Chic-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;-a as well)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a total maniac on the tennis court&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know the top 10 music video countdown each week on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;VH&lt;/span&gt;1&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My dance moves are pretty groovy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;While I am cruising in my minivan, I wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Raybans&lt;/span&gt; and jam out to P &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Diddy&lt;/span&gt;, The Fray and . . . Chicago&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My 3 year old told me I was a cool dude &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am pretty happy.  I laugh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt;.  Cool people laugh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; unless you are one of those moody artsy types &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, that is all I can come up with for now.  If you think of anything else, let me know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;cheers&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3696179924957016135?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3696179924957016135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3696179924957016135' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3696179924957016135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3696179924957016135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-coolness-factor.html' title='My Coolness Factor'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-360365544237950030</id><published>2007-02-23T16:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T16:22:16.992-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here's what I am working on.&lt;br /&gt;1. 24 season 2 (disc 1) review. This is for Eric C since he responded to earlier post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. 3 things I find hard to admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Week in review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-360365544237950030?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/360365544237950030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=360365544237950030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/360365544237950030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/360365544237950030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/heres-what-i-am-working-on_23.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4354649181984713311</id><published>2007-02-23T14:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T16:24:41.822-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thirst Quencher</title><content type='html'>Say you wake up in the middle of the night, it's dark, you're groggy, and you're thirsty. Then you stumble into the kitchen, and you see the silhouette of a container of juice on the counter. You're sleepy, so you don't stop to think about why it's not in the fridge, or why the cap feels funny. In that situation, my advice for you is not to drink it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably olive oil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4354649181984713311?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4354649181984713311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4354649181984713311' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4354649181984713311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4354649181984713311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/thirst-quencher.html' title='The Thirst Quencher'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4328037008257091666</id><published>2007-02-20T09:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T09:39:19.258-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The joys of getting older</title><content type='html'>*First of all, I am going to tell you this post is about Todd and me.  Just a glimpse of what normally takes place between the 2 of us.  We are really dorky.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, Todd looked at me weird and said, "Is that a cobweb in your hair?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started freaking out saying "what, oh no, get it out."  Because where there are cobwebs, there are spiders.  Spiders freak me out really bad.  Almost as much as vomit and pork.  Anyway, I am shaking my head and dancing around just in case there is a spider crawling on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todd then says, "Oh never mind, forget it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you forget that someone told you there is a cobweb in your hair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the mirror to check and he is really insisting that I do not go and just leave it alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look in the mirror to find the mysterious cobweb.  Do you know what it is???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A patch of grey hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't husbands great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to buy some Loreal hair dye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4328037008257091666?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4328037008257091666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4328037008257091666' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4328037008257091666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4328037008257091666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/joys-of-getting-older.html' title='The joys of getting older'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4256179971399596163</id><published>2007-02-18T18:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:18.875-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry Crisis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Have you ever wondered what would happen if you had 6 people in your household and your washer broke? So you bought a new one and at this point you are about 12 loads behind and it makes you want to drink,  I mean cry,  and you hook up the new washer and it &lt;strong&gt;didn't&lt;/strong&gt; work . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what happens . . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033030653824815570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RdjqtqjhUdI/AAAAAAAAATA/OXGJiquLir8/s400/laundry.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Help me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4256179971399596163?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4256179971399596163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4256179971399596163' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4256179971399596163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4256179971399596163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/laundry-crisis.html' title='Laundry Crisis'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RdjqtqjhUdI/AAAAAAAAATA/OXGJiquLir8/s72-c/laundry.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8878157029872316153</id><published>2007-02-18T14:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T14:56:18.968-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Would anyone like to read about my take on season 2 of 24? If so, how would you like it broken up? 4 hour increments?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone even read this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8878157029872316153?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8878157029872316153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8878157029872316153' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8878157029872316153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8878157029872316153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/would-anyone-like-to-read-about-my-take.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7615868720873712382</id><published>2007-02-18T14:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:19.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wonders of the Human Brain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I was in the shower this morning and I started humming and I realized I remembered the theme song to "Fresh Prince of Belaire." As I was rapping, I starting thinking about what else is in this brain of mine. Here's what popped into my head: I could probably quote every line in the movie "Goonies", I can tell you all about vitamins, the Beatles and random survival tricks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I thought, this is pretty pathetic. Is there anything useful stored in here?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember one thing from high school math - the quadratic equation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032979432044843458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rdi8IKjhUcI/AAAAAAAAAS0/Mr5mvf8n_oE/s400/quadric+equation.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then I thought my conditioner smelled like fruit loops.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7615868720873712382?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7615868720873712382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7615868720873712382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7615868720873712382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7615868720873712382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/wonders-of-human-brain.html' title='The Wonders of the Human Brain'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rdi8IKjhUcI/AAAAAAAAAS0/Mr5mvf8n_oE/s72-c/quadric+equation.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8321999836864039361</id><published>2007-02-16T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T09:41:58.423-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well Todd got me some new pots and pans for Valentine's Day. Very nice stuff - Wolfgang Puck, stainless steel because he knows I am totally not into Teflon and all that other non-stick stuff.  (Just ask me why one day).  Anyway, as I was sauteing some onions last night, here is our conversation somewhat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd: "So babe, you like your new dishes."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sandi: "Yeah, great, thanks."  (and I get back to cooking.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd: "They are Wolfgang Puck."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sandi: "I think you've mentioned that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd:"Stainless steel."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sandi: "uh huh"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd : "so you like them"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sandi :"Yes, very romantic gift."  (I was slightly sarcastic)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd then picks up a small frying pan and stares into it and says in all seriousness,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"You can see your reflection.  That is very romantic!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;OK blog friends.  I will let you try and figure that one out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8321999836864039361?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8321999836864039361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8321999836864039361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8321999836864039361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8321999836864039361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/well-todd-got-me-some-new-pots-and-pans.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-5499996294043301033</id><published>2007-02-15T10:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T10:55:40.029-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Day</title><content type='html'>My beloved karaoke machine is not working.  The day just doesn't seem complete with out my daily concert as the kiddos call them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-5499996294043301033?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/5499996294043301033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=5499996294043301033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5499996294043301033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5499996294043301033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/sad-day.html' title='Sad Day'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8299835260970143704</id><published>2007-02-14T20:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T20:22:38.512-06:00</updated><title type='text'>24 Predictions</title><content type='html'>I have watched season 1 and season 2 of 24 (commentary coming soon) and I am starting to notice some reoccurring themes. Here is what I am predicting will happen in season 3 of 24.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.Jack will yell at a lot of people&lt;/strong&gt; - Jack seems to have only two volume levels: scary whisper and drill sergeant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Any CTU agents that we don't know by name will be killed&lt;/strong&gt; - How many times has a entire team of CTU field agents been wiped out while guarding something or someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Jack will disobey an order from CTU&lt;/strong&gt; - You would think by now they'd just let him do what he wants anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. The president will be manipulated by a member of his inner circle&lt;/strong&gt; - Who are these people that the president keeps appointing to their cabinet? If I was president, I would let Jack choose my cabinet, or better yet , just let Jack be president. That way he could torture anyone who he thought was going behind his back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. There will be a mole inside CTU&lt;/strong&gt; - This place has got to have the worst hiring department in the world. How is it that Vegas casinos can watch their employees enough that it's impossible to steal a quarter without ending up in a back room being beat half to death but the Counter Terrorist Unit has someone stealing info from it every season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Jack will physically hurt and/or kill someone that works at CTU&lt;/strong&gt; - This man has shot one boss in the leg with a dart, beat up Tony, drugged another boss, shoot them, beat them up,  killed a mole or two, and punched out half the office while trying to escape at one time or another, yet he still gets asked back to work. Now that's proof that it's hard to get fired from a government job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Someone at CTU will lie to protect Jack&lt;/strong&gt; - I'm not into lying, but he might tempt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Jack will kill someone in an unconventional way&lt;/strong&gt; - It's kinda hard to top shooting someone then chopping their head off with a hacksaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. A terrorist organization will threaten the lives of thousands of people in L.A.&lt;/strong&gt; - wow, shocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. Someone will be kidnapped&lt;/strong&gt; - It will probably be Kim about 10 different times because she is stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. No one will sleep or go to the bathroom&lt;/strong&gt; - It will be the longest day of their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. Jack will kill an insane amount of terrorists&lt;/strong&gt; - (or people for that matter) It's incredible how many people these terror cells have on their payroll. It's got to be expensive replacing all the people that Jack kills. I'd just wait till he retired or took a vacation before I plotted world domination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. Someone will get tortured.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Kim Bauer will drive us crazy&lt;/strong&gt; - enough said&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8299835260970143704?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8299835260970143704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8299835260970143704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8299835260970143704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8299835260970143704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/24-predictions.html' title='24 Predictions'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7317953940807373197</id><published>2007-02-12T10:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T10:34:46.856-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Cravings</title><content type='html'>I am really weird sometimes.  I will totally crave 1 food and that is all I will want to eat for weeks even months. I usually will eat this certain food at every meal and then move on to something else.    Here are some past food cravings.&lt;br /&gt;1. 1998 - Don Pablos Chicken Flautas - yummm. I wanted these so bad when I was living in Georgia so Todd drove me to Florida where the nearest Don Pablos was. (He didn't know what he was getting into.)&lt;br /&gt;2. 1999 - Tamles - Don't ask me why.  I totally hate them now, but back then, loved them and ate them nearly everyday.&lt;br /&gt;3. 2000 - Junior Mints &lt;br /&gt;4. 2001 - Bagels with Peanut Butter&lt;br /&gt;5. 2002 - Shaved Ice&lt;br /&gt;6. 2003 - Cherry Limeaides&lt;br /&gt;7. 2004 - Grape Nuts&lt;br /&gt;8. 2005 - Lemon Yogurt&lt;br /&gt;9. 2006 - Guacamole&lt;br /&gt;10.2007 - My latest craving that I eat at least 5 times a week.  Chicken Ceasar Salad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am however starting to lean toward muffins of any kind and I only like the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else do this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7317953940807373197?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7317953940807373197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7317953940807373197' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7317953940807373197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7317953940807373197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/food-cravings.html' title='Food Cravings'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7094775294358761790</id><published>2007-02-10T13:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T13:51:10.369-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wonderful Night at Walmart</title><content type='html'>It's official. I am totally done with Walmart. Let me tell you what happened last night. After I finish getting all my groceries, which is so fun to do on a Friday night, I mean, I felt really cool - Anyway, I unloaded all my stuff on the belt. I crammed and stacked stuff so I got it all out at once. You know what I'm talking about. The lady started to scan my stuff but discovered something was broken with her machine. She called for the manager and told me to hold on for just 1 minute and they will get it fixed. 1 minute turned into 15. She then walked off to see where he was and I quickly loaded all my stuff back into my cart before she came back. I managed to do this and ran off to another checkout row. Got in line, unloaded my stuff again. Next comes incident #2. The person in front of me started haggling the checkout lady because the price was ringing up different than advertised. They started arguing . I starting crying. Not really but I probably could have. You see, they weren't holding the line up for 10 minutes over a lot of $, but over 20 cents on a loaf of bread. That's right. Do you feel like crying with me. The thought of waiting here another minute got to me. So I butted in and said, "Can I just pay for the difference, please. I can spare the 20 cents." It was a no go. The person told me it was the principle of the matter. I wanted to smash their bread and blame it on the principle of the matter, but I had Savannah with me. She would have told Todd and busted me. So, I loaded my stuff up again. The joy this brought me is indescribable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to another checkout line. Proceeded to unload my stuff for a third time and checkout.&lt;br /&gt;Spent 15 minutes getting groceries, 26 minutes checking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more walmart for me, at least until I run out of food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7094775294358761790?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7094775294358761790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7094775294358761790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7094775294358761790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7094775294358761790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-wonderful-night-at-walmart.html' title='My Wonderful Night at Walmart'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-974047460604230509</id><published>2007-02-09T16:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T16:42:15.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thanks to Trey K. for  the new title of my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-974047460604230509?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/974047460604230509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=974047460604230509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/974047460604230509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/974047460604230509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/thanks-to-trey-k.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-5742236999696283468</id><published>2007-02-09T08:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T09:57:10.729-06:00</updated><title type='text'>24 Season 1 Finale</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I finished season 1. What can I say but WOW! No one is safe in 24 except Jack. You could be killed off at anytime. Anyway, I left off last around 4PM. Here is what has happened since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim: First of all, this chick is so annoying. You would think growing up with freakin Jack Bauer as your dad you would have a few survival instincts, but no, she has none. Look what happens to her, she gets in a car wreck, goes to the house of the loser who kidnapped her (Rick). I mean seriously, does she not have any friends or something. While there, she is involved in a shootout and a drug bust gone wrong. Wow, that's a shocker. She is arrested, gets in fights at the jail, carjacked, kidnapped &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;, held&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;hostage &lt;em&gt;again, &lt;/em&gt;and finally escapes because she throws coffee on the dudes face. Anyway, I am done writing about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terri - She gets amnesia from the car wreck and forgets Jack, literally. How could you forget about Jack. I tried. It is impossible. He is too cool. So anyway, Terri the weakling has amnesia and doesn't know anything. Somehow she gets back to her house and is about to be killed by the assassins and Tony saves her. I haven't written about him yet because his personality is like a dead log, and he was romantic with Nina, but whatever, he saves her. Good for him. Terri is headed back to CTU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senator Palmer - Let me catch you up on him. He won the primary on super tuesday. I am sure he will be the next Pres. He bonded with his really short son Keith. His wife Sherry goes behind his back and tries to set him up with Patty the intern. I was grossed out and totally embarrassed when she started massaging his shoulders and her flirting skills were terrible. Anyway, Palmer tells Sherry get out of my life. You are not fit to be the first lady - ooh vicious Palmer. I am predicting that this will come back to get him. Oh yeah, did I mention that Jack saves his life again. I think that makes 3 or 4 times in 1 day. Very impressive Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Mason - I am starting to like him. Remember this guy? It's Jack's boss and Jack shot him in the leg with a tranquilizer in the first episode. I didn't like Mason at first because he was kind of shifty and it looked like he had a glass eye, but he is growing on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agent Jack Bauer - The hero with great hair. So Jack discovers who the terrorists are and what they are up to and tracks them down to a deserted wildlife refuge. Mason wants to leave (I think he was scared) but Jack stays. Good instincts Jack because what is there in the wildlife refuge??? . . . .A Top secret Government Detention Center. cool. Jack approaches it and get Tasered and he collapses. Who then appears, the La Bamba dude, Lou Diamond Phillips. It was kind of distracting because I kept wanting to hum La Bamba. anyway, he is the agent in charge and they are expecting a prisoner, none other than Victor Drazen. This is the man who started this all. Jack supposedly killed him a few years back but he is alive. In a nutshell, Victor Drazen's sons break him out of prison, capture Jack and give him his orders. Kill Palmer etc. We've heard it all before. Come on you terrorists , give us some new material. Anyway, Jack fools them, like only he can do in Bauer style. He's a tricky guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am going to side track to Nina for a moment. So far, she has seemed all concerned for Jack and his family. I knew it was all an act though. There is no moment in time that I have had any kind feelings toward Nina . . .or should I say . . . Yelena! That's right! She is a dirty agent. Told you blogger readers. She was talking in German conspiring about Jack with the terrorists and Terri discovers her and gets tied up, of course. No women 24 would actually obey Jack or do anything cool. So Nina ties her up and is trying to escape CTU because her gig is up. All I can say is goodbye toothpick legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Jack learns that Nina is the mole and is headed back to CTU to get here. He has a shootout with her and gets her at gunpoint with his gun on her temple. I am thinking to myself, "shoot her Jack, shoot her." This is how much I dislike her. She makes me think bad thoughts and I am such a peace loving kind of gal. For reasons unknown, Jack doesn't shoot her and she gets arrested. By for now Yelena. I am sure the producers at 24 will bring you back to annoy us all some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack goes into CTU to find his family. He sees Kim, hugs and kisses etc. Looks for Terri and what does he discover, Terri is DEAD!! What???!!!! Nina shot and killed her. Jack collapses in grief and season 1 is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't really that sad she was dead, but I was sad for Jack. I had to go watch the alternate ending where she lives just so I could feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can't wait for season 2!&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I am predicting.&lt;br /&gt;Kim will annoy me senseless. Jack will try to avenge Terri's death. There will be more weak, wimpy women, and of course a high body count of dead evil dudes that are trying to destroy earth in 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-5742236999696283468?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/5742236999696283468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=5742236999696283468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5742236999696283468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/5742236999696283468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/24-season-1-finale.html' title='24 Season 1 Finale'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1309854649615691663</id><published>2007-02-06T13:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T13:19:26.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Recap</title><content type='html'>Just in case anyone was wondering what I did this weekend, here goes.&lt;br /&gt;Friday Night: Date night, went out with some dear friends to my favorite place - Hibachi Grill&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - spring cleaning, all day long,  for some reason, I kept singing the following lyrics from Cypress Hill, "Insane in the Membrane, Insane in de brain."  I think it was due to breathing in too much clorox cleaner. Todd was not amused after the 20th time he heard it. That's the only part of the song I know.  It's catchy. lunch at chic-fil-a.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night - put the kids to bed early, watched 24 (FYI- latest commentary on season 1 coming in the next few days as soon and I can wrap my mind around what happened.)&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning - mad rush to get four kids, a husband, and a dog fed and ready to go to church(sparky stayed home).&lt;br /&gt;Sunday afternoon -  nap time, read a good book, (Camel Club)&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Evening - Super Bowl party at a good friends house.  Ate good food, laughed and watched a little of the game. Left Bella there.  Fortunately, remembered her as we were starting the car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1309854649615691663?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1309854649615691663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1309854649615691663' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1309854649615691663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1309854649615691663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/weekend-recap.html' title='Weekend Recap'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-9198725840234203234</id><published>2007-02-06T12:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T13:03:31.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FAQ's</title><content type='html'>Here are a few frequently asked questions I get all the time. In fact, you have probably asked at least one or all of them at some point in knowing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: "Are all these kids yours?"&lt;/strong&gt; I get this every time I go out in public with the walker clan. (This question usually follows , are you the nanny?)There are a few ways I usually respond to this question. If I am feeling nice, I say yes and smile. Next comes the typical response, "you've got your hands full." ( side note - I have probably heard that no less than 500 times in the last 3 years.) Now if I am feeling a little on the naughty side, I say , "Yes, but I left the twins and the baby at home." This is when I get looks like I have purple hair or spinach in my teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q:"How did you and Todd meet?"&lt;/strong&gt; Maybe after you have met both of us you wonder that question since we are so much alike. Todd and I have 2 completely different versions (are you surprised?) so I will give you mine. We were set up by a mutual friend to go on a date, not a blind one since I knew who he was. After the date, I thought what a nice friend. Well, friendship progressed obviously 4 kids later, 9 years of marriage. Todd's version is that he was secretly pining away for me and then I was a dream came true. I'm only guessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: &lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;How do you have the energy to do . . ."&lt;/strong&gt; For some reason I always find this question intriguing. Are most people really tired all the time or something? Where does their energy go? I attribute my energy to my senior citizen lifestyle. Early to bed (8:30 or 9). Dinner at 5:30, crosswords, reading, walking, eating healthy and oh yeah, did I mention Starbucks?!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: "Where do your kids get their blond hair?"&lt;/strong&gt; Obviously not from Todd or myself. My only explanation is that is from genes in older relatives and the fact that I secretly wish I was a blond and God is letting me live my blond ambitions through them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: "Did you play tennis in college?" &lt;/strong&gt;Unfortunately, no, although I totally could have. Recently, I beat the number 1 seed at Keller high and Fossil Ridge. I continue to whoop up on Todd . . left handed. Did I mention my humbleness regarding tennis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q:" Why don't you eat pork?"&lt;/strong&gt; I am a closet Jew.&lt;br /&gt; Totally kidding. Pork is so gross to me that I am getting grossed out just thinking about it right now. I have even told my kids that hot dogs can cause cancer. Just ask Landon about it sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time blogger friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-9198725840234203234?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/9198725840234203234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=9198725840234203234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9198725840234203234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9198725840234203234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/faqs.html' title='FAQ&apos;s'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1987169719836047651</id><published>2007-02-05T08:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T08:53:25.767-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inside Joke (Post) for Danielle</title><content type='html'>Albatrosses have been described as "the most legendary of all birds. An albatross is a central emblem in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Taylor Coleridge.  &lt;a title="Samuel Taylor Coleridge" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Taylor_Coleridge"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is from this poem that the usage of albatross as a metaphor is derived; someone with a burden or obstacle is said to have 'an albatross around their neck', the punishment given in the poem to the mariner who killed the albatross.&lt;br /&gt;Dani - AKA, the stocking holders&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1987169719836047651?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1987169719836047651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1987169719836047651' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1987169719836047651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1987169719836047651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/inside-joke-post-for-danielle.html' title='Inside Joke (Post) for Danielle'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-722038721305924726</id><published>2007-02-02T10:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T10:50:37.282-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the microwave. I cleaned the toaster. I cleaned the stove. I cleaned the refrigerator. I cleaned the sink. I cleaned under the sink. I cleaned the drains. I cleaned the floor. I cleaned the counter. I cleaned the dishwasher. I cleaned the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;(Note how the repetition of the phrase, "I cleaned...", reflects the repetitive nature of my day's tasks. Also note how you're bored, and yet, somehow, you're slightly satisfied that it's over. I'm sure the literary technique wasn't lost on you.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-722038721305924726?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/722038721305924726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=722038721305924726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/722038721305924726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/722038721305924726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/today-i-cleaned-kitchen.html' title=''/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-447039751126632666</id><published>2007-02-02T10:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T10:43:39.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Groundhog Day</title><content type='html'>Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today. That's right, woodchuck-chuckers - it's GROUNDHOG DAY!&lt;br /&gt;The groundhog did not see his shadow today which, according to German folklore, means folks can expect an early spring instead of six more weeks of winter.&lt;br /&gt;On this Groundhog Day we think of one thing. Will we have winter or will we have spring? Since 1886, Phil has seen his shadow 96 times (more winter), has not seen it 15 times (early spring), and there are no records for nine years, according to the info on the www. The last time Phil failed to see his shadow was in 1999.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-447039751126632666?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/447039751126632666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=447039751126632666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/447039751126632666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/447039751126632666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/groundhog-day.html' title='Groundhog Day'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-237272646548402108</id><published>2007-02-01T07:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T07:39:24.709-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's coming up</title><content type='html'>Here is what I am working on:&lt;br /&gt;1.FAQ's about me&lt;br /&gt;2. commentary on season finale of 24&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-237272646548402108?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/237272646548402108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=237272646548402108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/237272646548402108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/237272646548402108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/02/whats-coming-up.html' title='What&apos;s coming up'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3930794304156831258</id><published>2007-01-30T12:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T12:43:36.403-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Second, Say That Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Birds sing because life is sweet."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't say that and I don't know who did, but I heard it and have been keeping it  like a marble in my pocket  for years.  Say it a couple of times to yourself.  It starts to feel good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3930794304156831258?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3930794304156831258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3930794304156831258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3930794304156831258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3930794304156831258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/just-second-say-that-again.html' title='Just a Second, Say That Again'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2431903370673496886</id><published>2007-01-27T20:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:20.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Todd</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This past week we celebrated Todd's 34th Birthday. Here are a few things about Todd that you may not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*He is extremely disciplined in every aspect of his life, except when it comes to cookie dough&lt;br /&gt;*You may think he is so serious, but don't let that fool you. He can sing along to all the songs in "High School Musical."&lt;br /&gt;*It is nearly impossible for me to get him to take a vitamin. He thinks he can just eat the right kinds of food.&lt;br /&gt;*He used to have a lot of hair on his head when we got married 9 years ago. He blames it on me. I think he is joking.&lt;br /&gt;*Every time a helicopter flies by, he cranes his neck to identify it.&lt;br /&gt;*Does not like olives, tofu or the Texas Longhorns&lt;br /&gt;*He is very good about using Listerine and flossing daily&lt;br /&gt;*He has been to 2 Van Halen concerts&lt;br /&gt;*Todd has some pretty good dance moves&lt;br /&gt;*He has lots of patience (I seem to test it alot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd is great husband, father and friend. Love you babe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJHI/AAAAAAAAAR4/WeyQsgNdKf4/s1600-h/todd+candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024907480554546290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJHI/AAAAAAAAAR4/WeyQsgNdKf4/s400/todd+candles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJII/AAAAAAAAASA/pRMJ90LlkJk/s1600-h/madand+todd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024907480554546306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJII/AAAAAAAAASA/pRMJ90LlkJk/s400/madand+todd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJJI/AAAAAAAAASI/NoMoxsyOIq4/s1600-h/land+and+todd+bday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024907480554546322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJJI/AAAAAAAAASI/NoMoxsyOIq4/s400/land+and+todd+bday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOu_-oJKI/AAAAAAAAASQ/tnres2QfBoc/s1600-h/sissy+and+todd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024907484849513634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOu_-oJKI/AAAAAAAAASQ/tnres2QfBoc/s400/sissy+and+todd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOu_-oJLI/AAAAAAAAASY/uK9k1fB0jew/s1600-h/bella+todd+cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024907484849513650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOu_-oJLI/AAAAAAAAASY/uK9k1fB0jew/s400/bella+todd+cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bella after enjoying birthday cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2431903370673496886?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2431903370673496886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2431903370673496886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2431903370673496886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2431903370673496886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-birthday-todd.html' title='Happy Birthday Todd'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbwOuv-oJHI/AAAAAAAAAR4/WeyQsgNdKf4/s72-c/todd+candles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-9016746302809481882</id><published>2007-01-27T09:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:20.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Tuna is Canned!</title><content type='html'>Disclaimer: This is totally boring if you don't like football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, Coach Bill Parcells retired, via email. All I can say is hooray. I was waiting for him to get fired or leave for 3 years now. I was definitely not a Parcells fan. Todd says, "But Sandi, he is a LEGEND." I can't even begin to tell you how many times I have heard that lately. A legend huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got me to thinking. What really is a legend? What makes someone so special they become a legend? After some serious thought, here is Sandi Walker's requirements of becoming a legend and if Big Bill meets them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You have to be memorable, a little controversial and maybe even somewhat notorious.&lt;br /&gt;      *I guess the "New Jersey Con Man" fits criteria #1&lt;br /&gt;2. When people think of you, some sort excitement surges through their brain&lt;br /&gt;      * Not  now, only excitement is because he is gone.  (Does not meet)&lt;br /&gt;3. Sets new fashion trends&lt;br /&gt;     * I think we can all agree  here that Bill needs a little help in that area.  See picture below.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024364540853756914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rbog7f-oI_I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/iQLtlW8T-TY/s400/parcells+ugg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  A legend's life work breaks all barriers.&lt;br /&gt;     *With the Cowboys' postseason appearance in 2003, Parcells became the first coach in NFL history to lead four different teams to the playoffs.  Todd thinks that is so awesome.  Well, I have lead four different kids into Walmart, with no nap...on a Saturday afternoon. He is one of only five coaches (Don Shula, Dan Reeves, Dick Vermeil, and Mike Holmgren) in NFL history to have led two separate teams to the Super Bowl. (I guess he qualifies)&lt;br /&gt;5. A legend is a person of integrity.&lt;br /&gt;    *Don't really know much about Bill, but when he retired, he let the people of DFW know via email and no media interviews.  Then he turns around and does a 31 minute interview up in New York.  I guess he forgot about all the fans who bought tickets, season ticket holders, and the people who bought all the cowboys merchandise and supported this team.  He owes them a reason. (sorry Bill, you didn't meet requirement #5)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Bill, your score is 2 out of 5.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-9016746302809481882?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/9016746302809481882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=9016746302809481882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9016746302809481882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9016746302809481882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/big-tuna-is-canned.html' title='The Big Tuna is Canned!'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rbog7f-oI_I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/iQLtlW8T-TY/s72-c/parcells+ugg.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1599763136461845902</id><published>2007-01-26T11:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:20.858-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowboys'  New Hire Jason Garrett</title><content type='html'>I like this guy for the OC coaching position.  He is really nice guy and went to Princeton so he has some brains.  A few of you may know that during my Pre- Todd and family days, I worked a brief stint for the Cowboys. Jason Garrett asked me to help him with his summer camp and here is a picture. It is Jay Novechek and me wearing our Jason Garrett shirts. I have pictures with the usual dudes, Troy, Emmitt, Darren Woodson , Maddon and even Irvin (wearing a red suit), but I put them somewhere for safe keeping. I just need to find where that spot is. I have some pretty funny stories about my time there. If you are curious, just ask about my Troy Aikman and muffin encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rbo5s_-oJAI/AAAAAAAAARA/pxnzCMl077g/s1600-h/sandi+and+jay.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024391779536348162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rbo5s_-oJAI/AAAAAAAAARA/pxnzCMl077g/s400/sandi+and+jay.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1599763136461845902?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1599763136461845902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1599763136461845902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1599763136461845902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1599763136461845902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/cowboys-new-hire-jason-garrett.html' title='Cowboys&apos;  New Hire Jason Garrett'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rbo5s_-oJAI/AAAAAAAAARA/pxnzCMl077g/s72-c/sandi+and+jay.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7898156937628151396</id><published>2007-01-25T08:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T11:07:44.849-06:00</updated><title type='text'>24 - round two</title><content type='html'>So last time we talked, I was only up to 6am season 1.  10 hours and a bottle of tums later, here is what I think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim, the teenage daughter still totally bugs me.  I mean she likes that loser Rick who kidnapped her.  I just want to shake her. Just don't get it.  Also, she totally disobeys her parents.  Jack says, "Don't move.  It dangerous."  What does the little twit do, she moves and almost gets nailed by a sniper.  It's not like her dad was telling her anything complicated, but she is rebellious.  Are all teenagers like that?  Is her IQ just low?  How could you go against freakin Jack Bauer?!    oh another thing while I am on my Kimberly tangent, when she finds out her mom is pregnant, she is "like mom, why didn't you like tell me you were trying."  All I can say Kim is NYOB - stay out of it.  (For all of you over 30, just ask a 12 year old what NYOB is) Kim - ugggg.  I am predicting many episodes of frustration that she will be bringing me in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senator Palmer, you know, I really like this guy. His voice is really soothing. He should do books on tape.  His wife is a little white house hungry and is kind of shady but I think I can overlook that for now because she dresses nice and I like her lipstick.  You know what I find interesting about him.  He doesn't seem to care how his race is going.  I mean it is the primary election as they remind you 24 times, before each episode.  He doesn't ask his staff for exit polls or anything - he is one confident senator.  That's why I like him.  Also, he is one tough dude.  When he demands to see Bauer at CTU, he will not take no for an answer.  He sees Jack and straight up asks why are you trying to kill me? (I will get to my thoughts on Jack in a minute)  Jack persuades him that he is not a killer and all is well, at least for the next 5 minutes.  My last thing about Palmer, I like how he isn't going to run to Nebraska to get away from the assassins but says he wants to stay and smoke them out.  Oh yeah!  That's the kind of president I like.  Kind of reminds me of Harrison Ford in Airforce 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamey - computer girl / traitor.  She committed suicide - what!!!  That was a total shocker there.  She was telling us this boring sob story of how she did it all for he son and she loves him and then she slices her wrists.  I thought they would teach you to be tougher at CTU, you are fighting terrorist for crying out loud.  And if you want to commit suicide, why would you slice your wrist with a broken coffee mug?  swallow some poison or knock your head against the wall or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milo - like him, he is freakishly tall and skinny and his goatee is really thin, but he is smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terri, the wife, I like her a little more.  She has Nina all figured out.  I am starting to like her short hair a little bit better too, just a little bit.  So she is pregnant, that was a twist, not too shocking but more interesting.  I just wanted her to tell Nina, "I'm pregnant, na na na na na na,  I'm having Bauer's baby not you."  But she doesn't.  I guess she is more civilized than me.  I was impressed how she killed the bad guy and was trying to get away, she is dodging bullets (all with stomach pains)  but then she get lost with a personal GPS.  I saw that GPS.  It was totally cool.  Even a blind person could find their way to the water tower.  whatever.  Jack rescued her as usual and they head back to CTU, then the safe house.  That's where I left off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nina - ugg,  still don't like her, and acting like a woman scorned is really obnoxious.  when she talks,all I  hear is blah blah blah.  Jack, I will say it again, what in the world were you thinking?!!!  Anyway, Nina is acting a little suspicious.  You know I still think and desperately hope she is a bad agent so she will die.  Plus her debriefing skills are terrible. Wasn't she trained better at CTU? When she is debriefing Kim and Terri at the safehouse, she doesn't ask any good questions.  She was like, who's Rick, how did you meet him.  What, who cares about Rick, lets find Gaines you idiot. I would at least have a notebook and pretend to write stuff down to look smart or something. Nina has to go.  I am not a fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Robert Ellis- Jack's friend from "Operation Nightfall."  We first meet this guy in a smokey club in New Orleans, gambling and smoking.  I like him already.  He says the greatest line I have ever heard .  "If you could read what is in my eyes, you would crawl under a rock and cry."  WHAT!  That is awesome.  Did he just say that?  Yep, I replayed it about 12 times.  I started saying it around here but it doesn't get the same reaction.  My coolness factor is lacking.  Anyway,  Robert is introduced.  I am intrigued.  He is the most interested character on the show besides Jack.  I am looking forward to these 2 cowboys fighting terrorists, using cool CTU toys, slinging one liners around.  And what do the producers of 24 do?  They kill him off 15 minutes later.  20th Century Fox, can you hear my cry of outrage!  What were you thinking.  These are the same people that brought us Nina.  Let's move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack , Jack, Jack, the hero.  (Imagine with me here, a low, gravely voice, like you have had a few cuban cigs )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Right Now, terrorist are plotting to assassinate a Presidential candidate . . . My wife and daughter are in danger . . . And people that I work with may be involved with both . . . I am Federal Agent Jack Bauer. . . and this . . .is the longest day of my life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack, it's been a long day for me too buddy watching you all in 1 sitting, but I do it.  What can I say about Jack.  It amazes me how many fights and gun shoot outs, car chases etc.  he goes through, yet his hair still looks good.  I wish I knew his secret.  Jack's been a busy guy, he has discovered who the terrorist are, saved his family, only for them to get in danger again, got arrested, then reinstated, beat up a couple of guys, shot a few, stabbed one, he is also trying to discover who the mole is in CTU.  What can this guy not do. One thing that impresses me about Jack is how he ends phone conversations.  He just hangs up.  You have to be really cool to pull that off.  He gets to the point and moves on.  He doesn't waste anybody's time saying bye or talk to you later.  It's just. . click...&lt;br /&gt;Love that.  Think I am going to try it.  Don't be offended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am up to 4PM.  What's going to happen?  Will Palmer get whacked?  Will Nina's jealousy about Terri come to a head?  Will Kim get some sense?  Will Jack at last save the day and get some sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day my fellow Jack fans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7898156937628151396?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7898156937628151396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7898156937628151396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7898156937628151396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7898156937628151396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/24-round-two.html' title='24 - round two'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8000685746774400109</id><published>2007-01-24T20:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T21:11:42.215-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bunch of Weird Things About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I Love all infomercials!  Especially the ones that are selling CD compilations and handy things you can use around the house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Every night before bed I put Vaseline on my eyes and lips.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can't leave my house unless I have brushed my teeth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I make a pot of coffee each morning and only drink about 4-5 sips.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I sleep with 3 pillows and the fan on every night even if it is below freezing outside.  Todd has even had to put on thermal underwear before just to stay warm.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think name tags are cool.  I save everyone I have ever gotten.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The smell of Right Guard deodorant, citrus orange cleaner and cat food commercials make me gag really bad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Speaking of gagging, I have an extreme phobia of barf, otherwise known as Emetophobia.  I even locked my daughter in the backyard onetime when she was sick and spoke to her through a cracked window. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have been told I laugh pretty loud and maybe not at the right time.  When I hold my laughter in, I snort.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like to follow people home and see where they live.  Todd thinks this is so weird ,but he always drives me.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have serious aversion to hot dogs and pork. gross. I can hardly even write about it, it creeps me out so bad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a total heath nut.  Organic stuff, supplements, stuff like that really excites me and I get really pumped up.  I've had fewer than 1 cold per year for the last 6 years.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Karaoke and sing with the microphones everyday.  I also use the microphones to talk to everyone in the house and tell them what to do just to be obnoxious.  It seems to work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a very high threshold for breaking into tears.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know the words to 99%  of all the Beatles songs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like to hide and scare Todd at random times.  He does not think this is weird, but more juvenile.  I think he says that because I really do scare him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Once a month or so I usually scream in my sleep and then can't quit giggling in the night because it wakes Todd up and he gets mad, which makes the uncontrollable giggling worse, which makes him get even madder -the cycle never ends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can squat 60 pounds.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I do something, I am either all or nothing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you had enough yet?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8000685746774400109?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8000685746774400109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8000685746774400109' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8000685746774400109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8000685746774400109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/bunch-of-weird-things-about-me.html' title='A Bunch of Weird Things About Me'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8522723816155264245</id><published>2007-01-23T13:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T13:53:37.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's coming up on my blog</title><content type='html'>Here is a preview of things I am working on for your enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;1. Bill Parcells's - Is he really a legend?&lt;br /&gt;2. Commentary on the latest 24 that I've watched&lt;br /&gt;3. Weird things about me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stayed tuned blogger friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8522723816155264245?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8522723816155264245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8522723816155264245' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8522723816155264245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8522723816155264245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/whats-coming-up-on-my-blog.html' title='What&apos;s coming up on my blog'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7905157041707980986</id><published>2007-01-23T10:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T10:39:12.875-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gloomiest Day of the Year</title><content type='html'>"The BBC is reporting that  misery is expected to peak on Wednesday, as 24 January has been pinpointed as the worst day of the year.  January has been long regarded as the darkest of months, but a formula from a part-time tutor at Cardiff University shows it gets even worse this Wednesday. Foul weather, debt, fading Christmas memories, failed resolutions and a lack of motivation conspire to depress, Cliff Arnalls found. He found 24 January was especially dangerous, coming a whole month after Christmas festivities. Any energy from the holiday had worn off by the third week of January, he said.&lt;br /&gt;By Wednesday, most people will have fallen off the wagon or abandoned the nicotine patches as they fail to keep New Year's resolutions.  That compounds a sense of failure and knocks confidence needed to get through January."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I am not feeling especially gloomy.  Are you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7905157041707980986?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7905157041707980986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7905157041707980986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7905157041707980986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7905157041707980986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/gloomiest-day-of-year.html' title='Gloomiest Day of the Year'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3965882417045423729</id><published>2007-01-23T07:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T09:10:20.462-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess my readership of 3 people didn't know the answer. It was George Harrison of the Beatles, song "Good Day Sunshine",  Album "Revolver".&lt;br /&gt;Maybe next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3965882417045423729?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3965882417045423729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3965882417045423729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3965882417045423729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3965882417045423729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/answer.html' title='The Answer'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4565068328363597699</id><published>2007-01-21T13:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T13:52:35.416-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sun is Out!</title><content type='html'>All I can say is it is finally sunny!  Get out there and enjoy it.  This song came into my head after church today.&lt;br /&gt;Whoever is the first to guess correctly where the following lyrics are from, I will buy you a coffee at Starbucks.  You have to guess the singer and Album. &lt;br /&gt;Hint: Liverpool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good day sunshine&lt;br /&gt;I need to laugh, and when the sun is out&lt;br /&gt;I've got something I can laugh about&lt;br /&gt;I feel good, in a special way I'm in love and it's a sunny day&lt;br /&gt; Good day sunshine Good day sunshine Good day sunshine&lt;br /&gt;We take a walk, the sun is shining down&lt;br /&gt;Burns my feet as they touch the ground&lt;br /&gt;Good day sunshine"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4565068328363597699?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4565068328363597699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4565068328363597699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4565068328363597699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4565068328363597699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/sun-is-out.html' title='The Sun is Out!'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1809309364135407581</id><published>2007-01-20T10:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T11:15:01.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Discovered Jack</title><content type='html'>Ok, so yesterday at the Library I was checking out and  I happened to glance at the DVD section and saw 24 season 1.  I thought might as well see what all the hype was about.  Todd and I were told how great it was, so we gave it a whirl.  Here is what I thought of 24:&lt;br /&gt;1. Totally Addicted now!  We have only seen the first 7 hours and it was great.  &lt;br /&gt;2.  Love the real time thing.  Of course you invest hours watching it and only progress 1./2 a day on the show.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Jack Bauer - He is one cool dude.&lt;br /&gt;4. What is up with Nina?  She really bugs me and I mean the minute we met her.  She seemed whiny and insecure and bossy.  What a great combination.  Her skinny legs sticking out of her skirt with out hose really annoy me. Is she a dirty agent?  I kind of hope so, so maybe she will get killed off (don't tell me).  Yes , I saw where Jack "fake" shot her.&lt;br /&gt;5. Senator Palmer - Wow,  it's the Allstate guy.  Have you seen him lately in the commercials?  He convinces me that Allstate is great,  so when he appeared as the Presidential candidate, I was sold.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Another thing about Palmer - Does he give in and cover up his son's little murder problem?  Does he win the presidential race?  Don't tell me.  Speaking of his son, why is he so short and Palmer is so tall? &lt;br /&gt;7.  Let's talk about Jack a minute.  I like that he is a renegade and does his own thing.  He has some tricky moves too.  I like when he cut that guy's thumb off , even though I wasn't watching and Todd had to tell me about it.  He also has some cool toys. Supped up suburban.  The portable scanner is a nice touch. My only downfall with Jack is that he had an affair with Nina and you know how I feel about her (see above).  His wife seems ok, kind of hysterical and her hair is kind of bizzare like she is growing it out after a bad haircut.  But I gained a little respect after she nailed the fake Alan York with a rock and knocked him out.  I probably would have kept running or taken the car but there were 27 minutes left, that would have taken about 30 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;8. The kidnapped daughter. Seems nice enough for a teenager except why is she becoming friends with her kidnapper?   She needed to whack him with the shovel and run.  And learn to wear age appropriate clothing.&lt;br /&gt;9. Jaime - the computer girl.  so sad that she appears to be dirty.  I liked her.&lt;br /&gt;10. 24 is intense, but entertaining.  I found myself getting tensed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you see me, please don't talk  about anything past 6am season 1 (until I get caught up).  Does anyone have any of the past seasons on DVD that we can borrow????? &lt;br /&gt;Have a good day my fellow Jack fans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1809309364135407581?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1809309364135407581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1809309364135407581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1809309364135407581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1809309364135407581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/ive-discovered-jack.html' title='I&apos;ve Discovered Jack'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4456543332510881270</id><published>2007-01-19T16:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T16:17:49.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Blogs</title><content type='html'>So I've been spending a lot of time lately looking for funny blogs. The problem is that there are so many blogs and so little time. I know, I know, your blog is funny, but maybe I haven't had a chance to visit it yet, and I probably haven't had a chance to check out everybody on your blog roll, and everybody on their blog roll.... You get the idea. Anyway, I'm sure this isn't an original idea, but here it is: I am looking for blogs that meet the following criteria:&lt;br /&gt;1. They are funny.&lt;br /&gt;2. They are made up of mostly original content (not links to other blogs, YouTube, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;3. They are updated regularly.&lt;br /&gt;4. There is a good chance you've never heard of them. That means they don't have a gazillion other links to them, hundreds of readers leaving comments, etc. &lt;br /&gt;5. Lastly, the material is clean.&lt;br /&gt;Now of course what I'm hoping is that everybody who reads this will try this little exercise on their own blog and give all of us some cool new blogs to check out. If you do try it, please (1) feel free to steal any or all of this post for your own site, and (2) add a comment here with a link to the list on your blog. And remember that the blogs don't necessarily have to be your absolute favorites or the funniest blogs in the world; as long as you enjoy them and you think we might, that's good enough. What we're looking for is the best "&lt;strong&gt;undiscovered&lt;/strong&gt;" blogs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4456543332510881270?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4456543332510881270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4456543332510881270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4456543332510881270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4456543332510881270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/funny-blogs.html' title='Funny Blogs'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2184204067864784700</id><published>2007-01-19T09:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:21.090-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We Are Moving</title><content type='html'>More than likely we will be moving to the UK for Todd's job. He will be working on the Presidential Helicopter. (go figure that the US president's chopper is made in the UK). More than likely we will be in the Wessex region. I for sure want to walk on Abby Road since I am a Beatles fan. And do the Eifle tower thing. Now I am asking all my British friends, where should we live, do, see etc.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you jealous yet ? Just remember, we have to fly over there with 4 small kids and a dog on a 10 + hour flight. We will probably have many humorous stories about our life in England so stay posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here is a sampling of the landscape there.  Way different than Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021772291867419618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbDrSv-oI-I/AAAAAAAAAQk/5q9aRwsSrUo/s400/england2005_098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2184204067864784700?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2184204067864784700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2184204067864784700' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2184204067864784700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2184204067864784700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-are-moving.html' title='We Are Moving'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RbDrSv-oI-I/AAAAAAAAAQk/5q9aRwsSrUo/s72-c/england2005_098.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7850216464138880278</id><published>2007-01-17T11:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:21.254-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;After all the snow fun, we went to Starbucks and got a warm vanilla milk.  Good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5ff_-oI8I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Yv_KlAzim8c/s1600-h/kids+at+sb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021055637919376322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5ff_-oI8I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Yv_KlAzim8c/s400/kids+at+sb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-7850216464138880278?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7850216464138880278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7850216464138880278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7850216464138880278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7850216464138880278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/snow-break.html' title='Snow Break'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5ff_-oI8I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Yv_KlAzim8c/s72-c/kids+at+sb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7081192950084612752</id><published>2007-01-17T11:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:22.121-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More Snow Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;All the kids in the street having fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXf-oI0I/AAAAAAAAAOw/WSbaEzzCqm8/s1600-h/kids+in+street.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021054392378860354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXf-oI0I/AAAAAAAAAOw/WSbaEzzCqm8/s400/kids+in+street.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Madeline, Savannah, Landon &amp; Bella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI1I/AAAAAAAAAO4/OGAalUufIgA/s1600-h/kids+playing+in+street.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021054396673827666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI1I/AAAAAAAAAO4/OGAalUufIgA/s400/kids+playing+in+street.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Running down the street to the park.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI2I/AAAAAAAAAPA/elnwysxf2wg/s1600-h/landon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021054396673827682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI2I/AAAAAAAAAPA/elnwysxf2wg/s400/landon1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI3I/AAAAAAAAAPI/CZLpZAIpoxQ/s1600-h/landon2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021054396673827698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXv-oI3I/AAAAAAAAAPI/CZLpZAIpoxQ/s400/landon2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Landon tasting snowflakes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eX_-oI4I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/9I_lsCIje-M/s1600-h/mad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021054400968795010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eX_-oI4I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/9I_lsCIje-M/s400/mad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Madeline having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7081192950084612752?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7081192950084612752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7081192950084612752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7081192950084612752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7081192950084612752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/more-snow-fun.html' title='More Snow Fun'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5eXf-oI0I/AAAAAAAAAOw/WSbaEzzCqm8/s72-c/kids+in+street.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3283500067180042452</id><published>2007-01-17T11:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:23.429-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's First Snow Day</title><content type='html'>Today was a snowy day in Fort Worth.  The kids went outside to play and Bella LOVED it.  She and the other kids played for about an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dr_-oIyI/AAAAAAAAAOE/r7adsohZuXw/s1600-h/bella5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053645054550818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dr_-oIyI/AAAAAAAAAOE/r7adsohZuXw/s400/bella5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dsP-oIzI/AAAAAAAAAOM/ArrC3oqG12A/s1600-h/bella6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053649349518130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dsP-oIzI/AAAAAAAAAOM/ArrC3oqG12A/s400/bella6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oItI/AAAAAAAAANc/ITrejaVNZBk/s1600-h/bella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053507615597266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oItI/AAAAAAAAANc/ITrejaVNZBk/s400/bella.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oIuI/AAAAAAAAANk/str9cpVGhlk/s1600-h/bella2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053507615597282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oIuI/AAAAAAAAANk/str9cpVGhlk/s400/bella2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oIvI/AAAAAAAAANs/reVUo7JkN7c/s1600-h/bella3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053507615597298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dj_-oIvI/AAAAAAAAANs/reVUo7JkN7c/s400/bella3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dkP-oIwI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-U8QlH4DDVo/s1600-h/bella4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053511910564610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dkP-oIwI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-U8QlH4DDVo/s400/bella4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dkP-oIxI/AAAAAAAAAN8/r130eEN40kI/s1600-h/bella5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021053511910564626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dkP-oIxI/AAAAAAAAAN8/r130eEN40kI/s400/bella5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/15594318-3283500067180042452?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3283500067180042452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3283500067180042452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3283500067180042452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3283500067180042452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/bellas-first-snow-day.html' title='Bella&apos;s First Snow Day'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra5dr_-oIyI/AAAAAAAAAOE/r7adsohZuXw/s72-c/bella5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4663913664085432229</id><published>2007-01-16T20:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:23.612-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Todd Does At Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra2Fjf-oIeI/AAAAAAAAALA/CBn4tBYqxy8/s1600-h/toddhead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020816004514062818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra2Fjf-oIeI/AAAAAAAAALA/CBn4tBYqxy8/s200/toddhead.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This is what happened to Todd at work today. He sliced his head open on his cubicle cabinets.  Sounds like something that would happen at Dunder Mifflin (for fellow office fans).  This is the second time this has happened to him believe it or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4663913664085432229?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4663913664085432229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4663913664085432229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4663913664085432229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4663913664085432229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-todd-does-at-work.html' title='What Todd Does At Work'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ra2Fjf-oIeI/AAAAAAAAALA/CBn4tBYqxy8/s72-c/toddhead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7750236534357972873</id><published>2007-01-13T21:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:23.855-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pursuit of Happyness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw it - Loved it!!  Go see it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramgff-oIaI/AAAAAAAAAKg/2ULOeu6YGkQ/s1600-h/thepursuitofhappyness_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019719722701693346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramgff-oIaI/AAAAAAAAAKg/2ULOeu6YGkQ/s400/thepursuitofhappyness_poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-7750236534357972873?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7750236534357972873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7750236534357972873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7750236534357972873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7750236534357972873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/pursuit-of-happyness.html' title='Pursuit of Happyness'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramgff-oIaI/AAAAAAAAAKg/2ULOeu6YGkQ/s72-c/thepursuitofhappyness_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2689991566460805501</id><published>2007-01-13T21:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:24.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Nights at the Walker house</title><content type='html'>On most evenings at our house, you will find at least one of us performing karaoke.  Tonight we went out with our friends Richard and Cyndi.  Saw a movie, went to dinner and then came back to our house for . . . karaoke!  Totally fun.  Here are Richard and Cyndi singing "You are The Wind Beneath My Wings." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramd8v-oIYI/AAAAAAAAAKM/omf7t1U311I/s1600-h/richard+and+cyndi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019716926677983618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramd8v-oIYI/AAAAAAAAAKM/omf7t1U311I/s400/richard+and+cyndi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-2689991566460805501?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2689991566460805501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2689991566460805501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2689991566460805501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2689991566460805501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/saturday-nights-at-walker-house.html' title='Saturday Nights at the Walker house'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramd8v-oIYI/AAAAAAAAAKM/omf7t1U311I/s72-c/richard+and+cyndi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-437949595580288662</id><published>2007-01-13T21:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:24.287-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Madeline's 7th Birthday</title><content type='html'>Madeline's Birthday was December 28th, but she had her friend party today. She had a good time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramdov-oIXI/AAAAAAAAAKA/LX5QYzr1j5k/s1600-h/mad+b-day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019716583080599922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramdov-oIXI/AAAAAAAAAKA/LX5QYzr1j5k/s400/mad+b-day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-437949595580288662?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/437949595580288662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=437949595580288662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/437949595580288662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/437949595580288662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/madelines-7th-birthday.html' title='Madeline&apos;s 7th Birthday'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Ramdov-oIXI/AAAAAAAAAKA/LX5QYzr1j5k/s72-c/mad+b-day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2354364861945389075</id><published>2007-01-11T20:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:24.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost Tooth</title><content type='html'>Savannah lost her first tooth.  It was just barely hanging there and it was driving me crazy, so I pinned her down and pulled it out myself.  She freaked out when it was happening but felt better afterwards.  She looks like a little cutie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rabuhv-oITI/AAAAAAAAAJg/sI1mYCKCwAo/s1600-h/sissylost+tooth"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018961098333233458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rabuhv-oITI/AAAAAAAAAJg/sI1mYCKCwAo/s400/sissylost+tooth" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-2354364861945389075?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2354364861945389075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2354364861945389075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2354364861945389075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2354364861945389075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/lost-tooth.html' title='Lost Tooth'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/Rabuhv-oITI/AAAAAAAAAJg/sI1mYCKCwAo/s72-c/sissylost+tooth' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7577378986631342627</id><published>2007-01-09T09:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:24.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Monster Ballads - Even tough guys have a softer side</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;After seeing the commercial for it for years.  I finally got it.  Are you jealous?  It is awesome.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RaOy_BLta4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/HIw_Iin2bEY/s1600-h/mb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018051205539916674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RaOy_BLta4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/HIw_Iin2bEY/s400/mb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a sampling of what is on it.  Totally rocks!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Heaven - Warrant&lt;br /&gt;2. Something To Believe In - Poison&lt;br /&gt;3. High Enough - Damn Yankees&lt;br /&gt;4. Almost Paradise - Mike Reno/Anne Wilson&lt;br /&gt;5. Is This Love - Whitesnake&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. To Be With You - Mr. Big&lt;br /&gt;7. Carrie - Europe&lt;br /&gt;8. Don't Know What You Got Til It's Gone - Cinderella&lt;br /&gt;9. More Than Words - Extreme&lt;br /&gt;10. Headed For A Heartbreak - Winger&lt;br /&gt;11. When I Look Into Your Eyes - Firehouse&lt;br /&gt;12. Wind Of Change - Scorpions&lt;br /&gt;13. I'll Never Let You Go (Angel Eyes) - Steelheart&lt;br /&gt;14. When I See You Smile - Bad English&lt;br /&gt;15. Don't Close Your Eyes - Kix&lt;br /&gt;16. When I'm With You - Sheriff &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-7577378986631342627?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7577378986631342627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7577378986631342627' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7577378986631342627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7577378986631342627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/monster-ballads-even-tough-guys-have.html' title='Monster Ballads - Even tough guys have a softer side'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RaOy_BLta4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/HIw_Iin2bEY/s72-c/mb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-1121970510858531494</id><published>2007-01-09T08:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T09:15:33.053-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Hate Step Classes</title><content type='html'>I recently went to a step aerobics class and here are 10 thoughts on why I will &lt;strong&gt;never &lt;/strong&gt;go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It is for coordinated people only. Trying to remember what a grapevine, crossover, revolving door , to the knee etc - too much.&lt;br /&gt;2. You are surrounded by wall to wall mirrors so you get to see exactly how stupid you look. Great for your self esteem.&lt;br /&gt;3. After my heart felt like it was going to quit on me , I just knew class was about over. I look at the clock, we were only going for 6 minutes. . . I felt like crying.&lt;br /&gt;4. All that bouncing and jumping really made my curls go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;5. Eventually I was getting the hang of it and thought I wasn't doing too bad. I look over at the lady next to me to measure my progress. She is going full force and is not even sweating - she was probably 55, smiling and cheering. I'm 29 and was drenched.&lt;br /&gt;6. Speaking of cheering, the teacher would get us to cheer along with her. I just couldn't do it. Too embarrassing. Random whoohees and oh yeah's - no way.&lt;br /&gt;7. The teacher would speed the music up really fast. It really annoyed me especially since I was trying to sing along.&lt;br /&gt;8. Apparently you're not supposed to sing along according to the looks I got.&lt;br /&gt;9. At the end of class, my face was an attractive color of tomato red.&lt;br /&gt;10. . Last reason I will not go back. The next day, could not even walk. Had to roll out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will stick to the treadmill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-1121970510858531494?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/1121970510858531494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=1121970510858531494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1121970510858531494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/1121970510858531494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/why-i-hate-step-classes.html' title='Why I Hate Step Classes'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8154032644624254479</id><published>2007-01-02T21:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T21:32:41.544-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Searching</title><content type='html'>Looking for some new mystery authors to try out. Let me know if you recommend anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8154032644624254479?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8154032644624254479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8154032644624254479' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8154032644624254479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8154032644624254479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/searching.html' title='Searching'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3102883668655052546</id><published>2007-01-02T21:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T21:26:38.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2006 - Looking Back</title><content type='html'>Here are a few things that I am thankful for in 2006 (in no particular order):&lt;br /&gt;Healing of Savannah's legs - no surgery&lt;br /&gt;My sweet family&lt;br /&gt;My brother&lt;br /&gt;Keystone church  &lt;a href="http://www.keystonechurch.com/"&gt;www.keystonechurch.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome friends&lt;br /&gt;Getting a Karaoke machine&lt;br /&gt;New puppy&lt;br /&gt;Tennis Business&lt;br /&gt;BSF - the bible study I attend&lt;br /&gt;Todd's job opportunities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I am looking forward to in 2007:&lt;br /&gt;Todd's Job opportunities&lt;br /&gt;Another child?&lt;br /&gt;time with my family&lt;br /&gt;vacations&lt;br /&gt;future of my church&lt;br /&gt;growing closer to Jesus&lt;br /&gt;working out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3102883668655052546?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3102883668655052546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3102883668655052546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3102883668655052546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3102883668655052546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/2006-looking-back.html' title='2006 - Looking Back'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2407802185574525044</id><published>2007-01-02T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:25.223-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>We had a great night with some of our sweeet friends Jeff &amp; Theresa Knowles. Their 5 kids plus our 4 made for lots of fun and noise.It was 1 big slumber party.  We did fireworks, ate good food, played games and stayed up late. Todd and I actually stayed up past 2am. As most of you know, we usually go to bed by 9 every night so we were totally dead the next day!! But it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfqhqwdsI/AAAAAAAAAIs/AqH5HBPsL8I/s1600-h/lspark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015637425459852994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfqhqwdsI/AAAAAAAAAIs/AqH5HBPsL8I/s400/lspark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXBqwdoI/AAAAAAAAAIM/Xq0AtkoZZSw/s1600-h/lspark.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXBqwdpI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GUlqu2Xm4O0/s1600-h/madspark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015637090452403858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXBqwdpI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GUlqu2Xm4O0/s400/madspark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXRqwdqI/AAAAAAAAAIc/i1N7Wk8bwfs/s1600-h/savspark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015637094747371170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXRqwdqI/AAAAAAAAAIc/i1N7Wk8bwfs/s400/savspark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfXRqwdrI/AAAAAAAAAIk/tyhHCRM8aeM/s1600-h/jrff.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015637429754820306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfqxqwdtI/AAAAAAAAAI0/voxWBGtTlco/s400/jrff.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is Jeff.  He was a tight end at Texas Tech with Todd.  He now works for Remax.  He is also an ordained pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the great memories Knowles' family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-2407802185574525044?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2407802185574525044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2407802185574525044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2407802185574525044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2407802185574525044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-years-eve.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsfqhqwdsI/AAAAAAAAAIs/AqH5HBPsL8I/s72-c/lspark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2295546316163751206</id><published>2007-01-02T20:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:25.841-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2006</title><content type='html'>We had a great Christmas.  Thank you everyone for the presents!  Here are a few pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1BqwdgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/BLfZukvDLlw/s1600-h/kids+stocking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015633207801968130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1BqwdgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/BLfZukvDLlw/s400/kids+stocking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Madeline, Landon, Savannah &amp; Bella opening their stockings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1BqwdhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/-Tnl_Ba31_0/s1600-h/kids+presents.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015633207801968146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1BqwdhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/-Tnl_Ba31_0/s400/kids+presents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1RqwdiI/AAAAAAAAAHM/FB15IhVhOB8/s1600-h/plate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015633212096935458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1RqwdiI/AAAAAAAAAHM/FB15IhVhOB8/s400/plate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1RqwdjI/AAAAAAAAAHU/M2gvPrVGskQ/s1600-h/rug2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-2295546316163751206?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2295546316163751206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2295546316163751206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2295546316163751206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2295546316163751206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/christmas-2006.html' title='Christmas 2006'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZsb1BqwdgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/BLfZukvDLlw/s72-c/kids+stocking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-9149748578493212151</id><published>2007-01-02T20:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T20:45:20.371-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Workout Revsion</title><content type='html'>After Todd saw the latest blog posting, he said I forgot to mention a few other things he purchased.&lt;br /&gt;2 Treadmills&lt;br /&gt;Tae-Bo&lt;br /&gt;Core Secrets&lt;br /&gt;Weight Watchers&lt;br /&gt;Windor Pilates&lt;br /&gt;Free Weights&lt;br /&gt;Stability Ball&lt;br /&gt;Some Exercise cushion&lt;br /&gt;Various Diet and Exercise books&lt;br /&gt;Personal Trainer that came to the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound like I am in great shape huh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-9149748578493212151?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/9149748578493212151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=9149748578493212151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9149748578493212151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/9149748578493212151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2007/01/workout-revsion.html' title='Workout Revsion'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3128023795693554328</id><published>2006-12-31T18:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:26.021-06:00</updated><title type='text'>8th time a charm????</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the Gym I joined yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZhRTBqwdZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Tf0syv6ZOzE/s1600-h/lafitness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014847572384183698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZhRTBqwdZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Tf0syv6ZOzE/s400/lafitness.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my 8th place in about 7 years.  Here is the record of my various attempts to keep in shape via a gym membership.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Joined the YMCA 4 times from 1999 - 2006, Ladies Workout Express - Once, 24 Hour fitness - Twice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Todd is skeptical,  but this time I really am determined ....  Of course that is what I said last time.  I will keep you posted on the progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3128023795693554328?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3128023795693554328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3128023795693554328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3128023795693554328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3128023795693554328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/8th-time-charm.html' title='8th time a charm????'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RZhRTBqwdZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Tf0syv6ZOzE/s72-c/lafitness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-528892450825141252</id><published>2006-12-24T22:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:26.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chipotle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9RqhqwdUI/AAAAAAAAAFU/QrRwPwOy_aY/s1600-h/200px-Chipotle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012314701320713538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9RqhqwdUI/AAAAAAAAAFU/QrRwPwOy_aY/s400/200px-Chipotle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Has anyone ever eaten there?  For some reason, Todd and I really love this place lately.  We have been going after church and it really hits the spot.  We recommend the vegetarian burrito.  Yummy!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;www.chipotle.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-528892450825141252?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/528892450825141252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=528892450825141252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/528892450825141252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/528892450825141252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/chipotle.html' title='Chipotle'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9RqhqwdUI/AAAAAAAAAFU/QrRwPwOy_aY/s72-c/200px-Chipotle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-2654621608131493379</id><published>2006-12-24T22:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:26.296-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stockings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9Q2BqwdTI/AAAAAAAAAFE/vljCPj136Bs/s1600-h/stockings1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012313799377581362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9Q2BqwdTI/AAAAAAAAAFE/vljCPj136Bs/s400/stockings1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9QpRqwdSI/AAAAAAAAAE8/ja63k-jZNNw/s1600-h/stockings1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;These are the new stockings I made this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; It was totally fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/15594318-2654621608131493379?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/2654621608131493379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=2654621608131493379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2654621608131493379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/2654621608131493379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/stockings.html' title='Stockings'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9Q2BqwdTI/AAAAAAAAAFE/vljCPj136Bs/s72-c/stockings1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-4788578641708321752</id><published>2006-12-24T09:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:26.967-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Out with the Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So this weekend we did our annual toy cleanup. Before Christmas each year,the kids sort through all their toys and take out everything they don't play with or don't want. My rule is that all their toys have to fit in the closets or we give them away. (I know, I am strict). We then take them to Goodwill so another family can enjoy them. They kids really like doing this. Of course they had to tease Landon and put his favorite toys in the box - Todd's Tech helmet, hummer and guitar. I thought it was funny because he got so upset. Just look at the pictures below. Poor Landon - 3 sisters to put up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5RqwdLI/AAAAAAAAADs/5E6ZdUngA_I/s1600-h/goodwill1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012310556677272754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5RqwdLI/AAAAAAAAADs/5E6ZdUngA_I/s400/goodwill1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Landon getting a little mad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5hqwdMI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ME3-ZM7XbTo/s1600-h/goodwill2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012310560972240066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5hqwdMI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ME3-ZM7XbTo/s400/goodwill2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About to have a major meltdown.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5hqwdNI/AAAAAAAAAD8/lWQtTaNnvKE/s1600-h/goodwill3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012310560972240082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5hqwdNI/AAAAAAAAAD8/lWQtTaNnvKE/s400/goodwill3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Notice Savannah my normally very sweet child, laughing at her brother. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012317153747039586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9T5RqwdWI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RHGaoqEdIz8/s400/meltdown.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Major meltdown!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I will say, afterwards when we told him it was a joke, he was ok and thought it was funny too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-4788578641708321752?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/4788578641708321752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=4788578641708321752' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4788578641708321752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/4788578641708321752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/out-with-old.html' title='Out with the Old'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RY9N5RqwdLI/AAAAAAAAADs/5E6ZdUngA_I/s72-c/goodwill1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-8171557523129873466</id><published>2006-12-22T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:27.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's First Birthday</title><content type='html'>Bella was born December 14, 2005. She weighed 8.3 lbs. We just celebrated her first birthday. She is a great little girl and is really goofy. Here are a few pictures of her throughout this past year.&lt;br /&gt;Her latest stats are:&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Food : Black Beans, Rice and Bananas&lt;br /&gt;Weight : 20 lbs&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Toy: Baby Doll&lt;br /&gt;Loves to dance to Rap Music, Her brother calls her "his boy" and "son"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ-RqwdDI/AAAAAAAAACY/FoJ46dE7CU0/s1600-h/bella3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461819599975474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ-RqwdDI/AAAAAAAAACY/FoJ46dE7CU0/s400/bella3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She likes to help with laundry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwc-I/AAAAAAAAABw/hm4v20_uekg/s1600-h/bellaborn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461652096250850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwc-I/AAAAAAAAABw/hm4v20_uekg/s400/bellaborn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Minutes after she was born at 2 am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwc_I/AAAAAAAAAB4/AeM0A2IMZeA/s1600-h/bellaborn2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461652096250866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwc_I/AAAAAAAAAB4/AeM0A2IMZeA/s400/bellaborn2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;A few days old napping on Todd. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwdAI/AAAAAAAAACA/qYlCnzaie_g/s1600-h/bellaborn3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461652096250882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0hqwdAI/AAAAAAAAACA/qYlCnzaie_g/s400/bellaborn3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;3 days old with Savannah and Landon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0xqwdBI/AAAAAAAAACI/9FSMc-rZEh4/s1600-h/Bella1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461656391218194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0xqwdBI/AAAAAAAAACI/9FSMc-rZEh4/s400/Bella1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Here first birthday cake. She loved it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0xqwdCI/AAAAAAAAACQ/xNjzWI3R0-0/s1600-h/bella2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011461656391218210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ0xqwdCI/AAAAAAAAACQ/xNjzWI3R0-0/s400/bella2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-8171557523129873466?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/8171557523129873466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=8171557523129873466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8171557523129873466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/8171557523129873466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/bellas-first-birthday.html' title='Bella&apos;s First Birthday'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYxJ-RqwdDI/AAAAAAAAACY/FoJ46dE7CU0/s72-c/bella3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-7488696951424491076</id><published>2006-12-21T17:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T02:01:28.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Future Quarterback</title><content type='html'>Landon who is 3 1/2 is totally obsessed with football, especially the Dallas Cowboys. He knows all their names, positions and numbers. His favorite player is Troy Aikman and runner up is T.O. Here is a picture of him wearing his cowboy gear and showing us his football face. We got him football pads for christmas so that should be lots of fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYsYxhqwc2I/AAAAAAAAAAw/_SmAD3BotDU/s1600-h/football+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011126249510171490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYsYxhqwc2I/AAAAAAAAAAw/_SmAD3BotDU/s400/football+pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/15594318-7488696951424491076?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/7488696951424491076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=7488696951424491076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7488696951424491076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/7488696951424491076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/landon-who-is-3-12-is-totally-obsessed.html' title='Future Quarterback'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/RYsYxhqwc2I/AAAAAAAAAAw/_SmAD3BotDU/s72-c/football+pic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15594318.post-3956395010883519389</id><published>2006-12-21T17:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T17:02:59.488-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Keystone Church</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Our church moved into it's new location Sunday and it was great.  Instead of posting pics, check out Stuart Cowen's blog at &lt;a href="http://www.castingmynet.com"&gt;www.castingmynet.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15594318-3956395010883519389?l=sandiwalker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/feeds/3956395010883519389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15594318&amp;postID=3956395010883519389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3956395010883519389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15594318/posts/default/3956395010883519389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandiwalker.blogspot.com/2006/12/keystone-church.html' title='Keystone Church'/><author><name>Sandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11258123578503132492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMwuzU0TRSU/SOzZDWOEA0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/xHRUK4MzMkQ/S220/Sandi+%26+Todd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
