Sunday, March 16, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Yard Sale
Yeah! The yard sale is over!
We made quite a bit of money and are very happy with the results. We did have a few boxes of knick-knacky things to donate to Goodwill at the end of the day (which ended up being at 4pm) but all big items went really quick.
We had a preview on Friday which was supposed to start at 4pm, and ended up starting at around 3:30. The actual sale on Saturday was supposed to start at 7:30am and ended up starting somewhere before 6am. I was not terribly a happy camper. But I was glad to take the money.
I was very greatful that Patti and Anita were there to help, because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. All those people with their questions! I think I would have sold everything for a dollar, including the fridge, if they'd kept asking me. Thank goodness for the kindness of other people, because I was about to explode. That is why I stuck to doing the money.
It was a very tiring day, and fufilling. I feel a great weight is lifted. It continues to go with me as we pack for our future. Chris and I are both still weeding out items that we no longer wear to take to Goodwill for donations again. We are filling our souls, and it feels good. It feels good not to have so much stuff taking over our lives and bogging us down. And especially since we wont be carrying it with us. It's like a clean escape from this state. It will be good.
We made quite a bit of money and are very happy with the results. We did have a few boxes of knick-knacky things to donate to Goodwill at the end of the day (which ended up being at 4pm) but all big items went really quick.
We had a preview on Friday which was supposed to start at 4pm, and ended up starting at around 3:30. The actual sale on Saturday was supposed to start at 7:30am and ended up starting somewhere before 6am. I was not terribly a happy camper. But I was glad to take the money.
I was very greatful that Patti and Anita were there to help, because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. All those people with their questions! I think I would have sold everything for a dollar, including the fridge, if they'd kept asking me. Thank goodness for the kindness of other people, because I was about to explode. That is why I stuck to doing the money.
It was a very tiring day, and fufilling. I feel a great weight is lifted. It continues to go with me as we pack for our future. Chris and I are both still weeding out items that we no longer wear to take to Goodwill for donations again. We are filling our souls, and it feels good. It feels good not to have so much stuff taking over our lives and bogging us down. And especially since we wont be carrying it with us. It's like a clean escape from this state. It will be good.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Oral Trials
Okay, so this could go under either Job or Everything Nice, but for right now I feel it definitely deserves to go under EN. As ya'all know, there's been talk of an oral drug coming out for MS treatment, well the clinical trials have been going on, and so far so good, so they're going to do long term clinical trials. And one of the study centers is in Tulsa! So I'm going to try and get signed up as a lab rat as fast as I can. I really think it'd be great.
I've talked to some of the other people who have taken the clinical trials who were obviously not taking the placebo and they say that it works wonderfully, with no side effects, so that's really good news. I'm really hopeful. I have my next appointment with Dr. E at the beginning of March, and I've gotta ask for my Oklahoma transfer then, so I'll ask for the recommendation for the clinical study at that time as well. I checked it out, and filled out the survey, they seem to think I'd be a prime candidate for it. I'm really excited. **Squeal!!**
I've talked to some of the other people who have taken the clinical trials who were obviously not taking the placebo and they say that it works wonderfully, with no side effects, so that's really good news. I'm really hopeful. I have my next appointment with Dr. E at the beginning of March, and I've gotta ask for my Oklahoma transfer then, so I'll ask for the recommendation for the clinical study at that time as well. I checked it out, and filled out the survey, they seem to think I'd be a prime candidate for it. I'm really excited. **Squeal!!**
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Just a Few LOLCats
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
moar funny pictures
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Sister's Wedding Pictures
http://walker-wedding.blogspot.com/
Check out my sister's wonderful winter wonderland wedding! They are awesome pictures!
Check out my sister's wonderful winter wonderland wedding! They are awesome pictures!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Food for Thought
THESE clever landscape photos prove art is a matter of taste – they are made from the contents of a FRIDGE.
Artist Carl Warner, 44, combines several images to create the amazing scenes, including a broccoli forest, bread mountains, cheese village and smoked salmon sea.
The dad-of-four plans to turn the photos into a book to encourage kids to eat more healthily. But he admits his own children still have trouble eating their greens. Carl, of Tonbridge, Kent, said: “But at least they don’t play with their food as much as I do.”
Artist Carl Warner, 44, combines several images to create the amazing scenes, including a broccoli forest, bread mountains, cheese village and smoked salmon sea.
The dad-of-four plans to turn the photos into a book to encourage kids to eat more healthily. But he admits his own children still have trouble eating their greens. Carl, of Tonbridge, Kent, said: “But at least they don’t play with their food as much as I do.”
Friday, January 04, 2008
Long and Winding Road
http://www.tomrobinsonphotography.com/images/romania/_DSC0916.jpg
Brilliant photo. I love it, which is why it's on this page.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
So I found this article in the December edition of Real Simple Magazine (in the Life Lessons: Good Intentions) and I thought it just had to be shared:
Bad Santa
You want: a present that expresses how he feels about you (bonus points if it's romantic). He wants: a detailed wish list (bonus points if you'll settle for gift cards). Men aren't Scrooges, Kyle Smith explains. They're just holiday-shopping challenged.
In the mobster movie Donnie Brasco, there's a scene that every guy loves. Al Pacino's broken-down old wise-guy, Lefty Ruggiero, celebrates Christmas by giving a cash-filled envelope to Brasco, a young street hood who has become his protégé (and who is, actually, an undercover FBI agent, played by Johnny Depp). Brasco reciprocates with an envelope stuffed with what appears to be the same amount of money. The two men hug, and everybody seems happy.
The scene is supposed to underline how dumb and crude gangsters are, but doesn't it really show how clueless the rest of us are? Unless yo have kids, you expect to spend about the same amount on holiday presents that others spend on you. But, unlike Donnie Brasco, much of what yo get - and give - will be the wrong size, the wrong style, or completely ill considered.
Just to be clear, I'm not against Christmas. I love Christmas. Midnight Mass is beautiful and serene and holy; Meet Me in St. Lois is a great movie that can be watched only between December 1 and 25 (so is Love Actually); and in the Northeast, where I’ve spent most of my life, the question of whether there will be a white Christmas is always surprisingly suspenseful. I look forward to the family reunions, crackling fires, and goofy shared jokes carried over from last year, especially when all of this is accompanied by pie. It’s the gift giving where I, and many of my male brethren, run into some trouble.
A Jewish friend of mine once expressed incredulity that exchanging Christmas gifts was a valid expression of love or friendship. “Aren’t you just doing each other’s shopping?” she said.
Sort of, except, like most men, I can’t stop.
I feel overwhelmed in malls, and last-minute crowds irk me. (Of course, I cold do my shopping in October, like my mother, but I happen to be really busy every October. Do you have any idea how many football games there are to watch?)
In his novel Microserfs, Douglas Coupland writes that the average male has only about 73 calories of shopping energy, and once they’re gone, they’re gone for the day, if not for the week, and can’t be regenerated. We’re shopping light-weights, and the reason is that the experience stirs up some dour, primal memories of being helpless little kids who spent long stretches of our most impressionable years being dragged from every Casual Corner to Marshall’s to Dress Barn by never-quite-satisfied mothers who responded to our whining by telling us to just hush up and be patient for six more hours. I think I have Post-Traumatic Shopping Disorder.
I’m man enough to admit that many guy gifting errors spring from within. Our misfires, while well-intentioned, are usually a result of our poor listening skills or a general lack of knowledge of women’s vocabulary. I confess that, over the years, I’ve been guilty of the latter many times. (“I thought you said you wanted a tennis racket…. Oh…. What’s a tennis bracelet?”) Female sizes remain a mystery to me. (Why is it that my pants have specific measurements - 32-inch waist, 30-inch inseam – but women’s pants carry mysterious numerals, like 8, that don’t indicate anything? Eight what?) To me, luggage is something made out of sensible glow-in-the-dark nylon held together with thick, webbed straps and stainless-steel D rings so you can strap it onto your back when you’re about to march up a mountain in China. How was I to know it meant a cute quilted bag like something Helena Bonham Carter would have carried to a tea party in Howards End?
My inept gift exchanging hasn’t always been entirely my fault. Before I got married this year, I used to engage in a dismal hobby dating passive-aggressive girls. Christmas is the day they look forward to all year; it is to the passive-aggressive what Halloween is to the Goth. In mid-November, a variation on this conversation would occur about once a week:
She: “So, what are you going to get me?”
He: “What would you like?”
She: “I’m not going ot tell you. You have to guess. Bt it better to be something original, thoughtful, and personal.”
He: “OK. So… a gift certificate to the nearest chain store.”
She: (Icy stare, storms from room, doesn’t speak for four hours.)
Unlike the exes, my wife has been very understanding about my gift-giving issues, and she and other members of my family no longer bother dropping hints to me. They don’t say things like “Oh, just pick out some earrings or a sweater that looks nice.” Left to my own devices, I’m liable to buy something that went out of style back when Joanie Loves Chachi went off the air. Instead, they provide me with detailed Christmas wish list, and I do the same.
But here’s the thing about buying me Christmas presents: I don’t want any. I live in a Manhattan apartment the size of a dog kennel, and my closets and shelves are already heaped with stuff. But if I tell my relatives not to get me anything, they won’t listen. If I don’t give them a list, I could wind up with a grandfather clock or a kayak or a cello. So I’m careful to suggest items readily available from established national retailers. Not everyone in my family plays this way.
My mother collects ceramic Santa Clauses, which stand in phalanxes on her shelves and in a vast china closet. I have no problem with getting her what she wants, even if I find these little figurines frightening and am convinced that every time I turn my back, they move an inch closer to me. But they are limited-edition, special handcrafted signature collectible, and the one she decides to add to her collection every year is, according to eBay, available only from one woman in Lawrence, Kansas. (That holds true whether I’m looking to buy Caribbean Santa, baseball-playing Santa, or unicyclin’ Santa.) I don’t know how to win an auction on eBay, so, in a full-on December 21 panic, I end up paying the inflated “Buy it now” price with extra tacked on for overnight shipping and yet more for gift wrapping, only to discover the next day 15 identical Santas selling for a third of what I just paid.
At other times, Mom has asked for an item she saw in a specific store (sorry, it’s not available on the website), and this is no less terrifying. The stores are teeming with immense, seething crowds and sinister perfume ladies who spritz everyone who comes within 10 yards of them. Because it’s cold outside, I wear a winter coat. But it’s 84 degrees inside, so I develop a boiling headache as I wait in line at the jewelry counter, only to be sent to a different jewelry counter, where I wait behind someone who is determined to try on every bauble in the case. I finally ask about the watch Mom wanted. They probably don’t have it, because it’s nearly Christmas and they’re sold out of everything. But if I’m lucky and find the present I’m looking for, then I get to wait in a gift-wrapping line like the one at the post office on tax day.
Luckily, I have acquired a secret weapon. My wife loves to wrap presents – even her own. She likes some of the same things my mother does and knows where to get them. She actually likes ot shop, especially for other women. I’ve already had the undeniable peasurable experience of sitting by the Christmas tree and seeing my mother open a perfectly wrapped present marked. “To Mom. Love, Kyle.” My mother will respond with something like “Oh, lovely! How did you know I wanted this?” And I’ll just smile mysteriously and look up to see what I got her.
Bad Santa
You want: a present that expresses how he feels about you (bonus points if it's romantic). He wants: a detailed wish list (bonus points if you'll settle for gift cards). Men aren't Scrooges, Kyle Smith explains. They're just holiday-shopping challenged.
In the mobster movie Donnie Brasco, there's a scene that every guy loves. Al Pacino's broken-down old wise-guy, Lefty Ruggiero, celebrates Christmas by giving a cash-filled envelope to Brasco, a young street hood who has become his protégé (and who is, actually, an undercover FBI agent, played by Johnny Depp). Brasco reciprocates with an envelope stuffed with what appears to be the same amount of money. The two men hug, and everybody seems happy.
The scene is supposed to underline how dumb and crude gangsters are, but doesn't it really show how clueless the rest of us are? Unless yo have kids, you expect to spend about the same amount on holiday presents that others spend on you. But, unlike Donnie Brasco, much of what yo get - and give - will be the wrong size, the wrong style, or completely ill considered.
Just to be clear, I'm not against Christmas. I love Christmas. Midnight Mass is beautiful and serene and holy; Meet Me in St. Lois is a great movie that can be watched only between December 1 and 25 (so is Love Actually); and in the Northeast, where I’ve spent most of my life, the question of whether there will be a white Christmas is always surprisingly suspenseful. I look forward to the family reunions, crackling fires, and goofy shared jokes carried over from last year, especially when all of this is accompanied by pie. It’s the gift giving where I, and many of my male brethren, run into some trouble.
A Jewish friend of mine once expressed incredulity that exchanging Christmas gifts was a valid expression of love or friendship. “Aren’t you just doing each other’s shopping?” she said.
Sort of, except, like most men, I can’t stop.
I feel overwhelmed in malls, and last-minute crowds irk me. (Of course, I cold do my shopping in October, like my mother, but I happen to be really busy every October. Do you have any idea how many football games there are to watch?)
In his novel Microserfs, Douglas Coupland writes that the average male has only about 73 calories of shopping energy, and once they’re gone, they’re gone for the day, if not for the week, and can’t be regenerated. We’re shopping light-weights, and the reason is that the experience stirs up some dour, primal memories of being helpless little kids who spent long stretches of our most impressionable years being dragged from every Casual Corner to Marshall’s to Dress Barn by never-quite-satisfied mothers who responded to our whining by telling us to just hush up and be patient for six more hours. I think I have Post-Traumatic Shopping Disorder.
I’m man enough to admit that many guy gifting errors spring from within. Our misfires, while well-intentioned, are usually a result of our poor listening skills or a general lack of knowledge of women’s vocabulary. I confess that, over the years, I’ve been guilty of the latter many times. (“I thought you said you wanted a tennis racket…. Oh…. What’s a tennis bracelet?”) Female sizes remain a mystery to me. (Why is it that my pants have specific measurements - 32-inch waist, 30-inch inseam – but women’s pants carry mysterious numerals, like 8, that don’t indicate anything? Eight what?) To me, luggage is something made out of sensible glow-in-the-dark nylon held together with thick, webbed straps and stainless-steel D rings so you can strap it onto your back when you’re about to march up a mountain in China. How was I to know it meant a cute quilted bag like something Helena Bonham Carter would have carried to a tea party in Howards End?
My inept gift exchanging hasn’t always been entirely my fault. Before I got married this year, I used to engage in a dismal hobby dating passive-aggressive girls. Christmas is the day they look forward to all year; it is to the passive-aggressive what Halloween is to the Goth. In mid-November, a variation on this conversation would occur about once a week:
She: “So, what are you going to get me?”
He: “What would you like?”
She: “I’m not going ot tell you. You have to guess. Bt it better to be something original, thoughtful, and personal.”
He: “OK. So… a gift certificate to the nearest chain store.”
She: (Icy stare, storms from room, doesn’t speak for four hours.)
Unlike the exes, my wife has been very understanding about my gift-giving issues, and she and other members of my family no longer bother dropping hints to me. They don’t say things like “Oh, just pick out some earrings or a sweater that looks nice.” Left to my own devices, I’m liable to buy something that went out of style back when Joanie Loves Chachi went off the air. Instead, they provide me with detailed Christmas wish list, and I do the same.
But here’s the thing about buying me Christmas presents: I don’t want any. I live in a Manhattan apartment the size of a dog kennel, and my closets and shelves are already heaped with stuff. But if I tell my relatives not to get me anything, they won’t listen. If I don’t give them a list, I could wind up with a grandfather clock or a kayak or a cello. So I’m careful to suggest items readily available from established national retailers. Not everyone in my family plays this way.
My mother collects ceramic Santa Clauses, which stand in phalanxes on her shelves and in a vast china closet. I have no problem with getting her what she wants, even if I find these little figurines frightening and am convinced that every time I turn my back, they move an inch closer to me. But they are limited-edition, special handcrafted signature collectible, and the one she decides to add to her collection every year is, according to eBay, available only from one woman in Lawrence, Kansas. (That holds true whether I’m looking to buy Caribbean Santa, baseball-playing Santa, or unicyclin’ Santa.) I don’t know how to win an auction on eBay, so, in a full-on December 21 panic, I end up paying the inflated “Buy it now” price with extra tacked on for overnight shipping and yet more for gift wrapping, only to discover the next day 15 identical Santas selling for a third of what I just paid.
At other times, Mom has asked for an item she saw in a specific store (sorry, it’s not available on the website), and this is no less terrifying. The stores are teeming with immense, seething crowds and sinister perfume ladies who spritz everyone who comes within 10 yards of them. Because it’s cold outside, I wear a winter coat. But it’s 84 degrees inside, so I develop a boiling headache as I wait in line at the jewelry counter, only to be sent to a different jewelry counter, where I wait behind someone who is determined to try on every bauble in the case. I finally ask about the watch Mom wanted. They probably don’t have it, because it’s nearly Christmas and they’re sold out of everything. But if I’m lucky and find the present I’m looking for, then I get to wait in a gift-wrapping line like the one at the post office on tax day.
Luckily, I have acquired a secret weapon. My wife loves to wrap presents – even her own. She likes some of the same things my mother does and knows where to get them. She actually likes ot shop, especially for other women. I’ve already had the undeniable peasurable experience of sitting by the Christmas tree and seeing my mother open a perfectly wrapped present marked. “To Mom. Love, Kyle.” My mother will respond with something like “Oh, lovely! How did you know I wanted this?” And I’ll just smile mysteriously and look up to see what I got her.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
All Better
Everything is better now. My computer is back and running. Admittadly, the Geek Squad did nothing but tell me what I already knew. Well, they did copy files off of my harddrive, so that's good. Anyway, I did the right thing and restarted my computer completely. It's running faster. Connecting easier. A lot better. I re-installed Quicken, Microsoft Office, and Blackberry items. All is running like a brand new computer. Yeah!!!
So since my computer is better now, I'm better now.
So since my computer is better now, I'm better now.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
iPlunge
Hi guys. Listen.
Um.
I'm preparing to join a cult.
The iCult.
That's right, I'm thinking about buying a Mac.
Don't look at me like that. It's not because I think I'm better than you. It's just that ... they're so easy. (And pretty). And they apparently don't give as much guff as PCs, which is good, because I'm about done with getting guff from my friggin' Dell. (And it's pretty).
I read reviews and compared specs online, and even when taking various PCs into account, Mac still seemed closer to my iNeeds. Ooops, I mean needs. Needs.
So hopefully I can beam up to the mothership in the next few weeks here. Gotta figure out if I want to order an Apple. Either way, if the thing acts up I can take it to my nearest Apple store -- wherever that may be when this hypothetical situation occurs -- and say "here, fix this." Which is another big, big plus for Apple, in my book.
Um.
I'm preparing to join a cult.
The iCult.
That's right, I'm thinking about buying a Mac.
Don't look at me like that. It's not because I think I'm better than you. It's just that ... they're so easy. (And pretty). And they apparently don't give as much guff as PCs, which is good, because I'm about done with getting guff from my friggin' Dell. (And it's pretty).
I read reviews and compared specs online, and even when taking various PCs into account, Mac still seemed closer to my iNeeds. Ooops, I mean needs. Needs.
So hopefully I can beam up to the mothership in the next few weeks here. Gotta figure out if I want to order an Apple. Either way, if the thing acts up I can take it to my nearest Apple store -- wherever that may be when this hypothetical situation occurs -- and say "here, fix this." Which is another big, big plus for Apple, in my book.
Today I was doing some more iResearch -- um, research, I mean -- including an entertaining click-through on the Japanese Apple site, which led me to this:
Tell me. Does anything seem eerily ... familiar ... about those guys?
Take a gander at the Japanese PC/Mac commercials here. Quit yer whining that you don't know Japanese. Trust me, you'll get it. And you'll be simultaneously amused and weirded out.Wednesday, November 14, 2007
As for now
Feeling a lot better now. Thanks to drugs and rest I'm doing better. My hand is still recovering. I feel revived. Hopeful.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Bein' an Okie
Forget Rednecks, here is what Jeff Foxworthy has to say about folks from Oklahoma ...
If someone in a store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you may live in Oklahoma .
If you've worn shorts and a coat at the same time, you probably live in Oklahoma .
If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you most likely live in Oklahoma .
If "Vacation" means going anywhere south of Oklahoma City for the weekend, you probably live in Oklahoma .
If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Oklahoma . Is there a different way of measuring distance when traveling? ;)
If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you may live in Oklahoma .
If you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both unlocked, you may live in Oklahoma .
If you carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you may live in Oklahoma .
If the speed limit on the highway is 55 mph -- you're going 80 and everybody is passing you, you may live in Oklahoma .
If you find 60 degrees "a little chilly", you may live in Oklahoma .
If you actually understand these jokes and forward them to all your Oklahoma friends & others, you definitely live in Oklahoma
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
Feeling Better
Okay, so I'm feeling quite a bit cheerier today. I'm starting a new weight loss thing. I've joined the Y, and so has Chris... hopefully we'll start going soon. I'm going to be going and doing swim laps on Wednesdays. That'll be really nice. I haven't been swimming in forever, and I miss it so!
Chris has started the Alli and it's helping with his digestion. So I decided to start it too... and so far I've actually had a bowl movement! If you were me, you'd be excited as well. Finally. Sorry, it's disgusting, but it makes me feel better. No wonder I've been bitchy lately... I've been full of crap!
Also, my sweet English teacher read my paper aloud because she thought it was so beautiful. I knew she was liking my papers, but this one was really prime. She said I could get it published if I worked on it and turned it back in. That'd be way awesome.
Let's see... Oh yes. I'm getting married! My ring is fitting tighter because Chris and I went to the local Zales and got a free sizing band. So I'm not worried about waving it about or playing with the pups and loosing it.
Chris has started the Alli and it's helping with his digestion. So I decided to start it too... and so far I've actually had a bowl movement! If you were me, you'd be excited as well. Finally. Sorry, it's disgusting, but it makes me feel better. No wonder I've been bitchy lately... I've been full of crap!
Also, my sweet English teacher read my paper aloud because she thought it was so beautiful. I knew she was liking my papers, but this one was really prime. She said I could get it published if I worked on it and turned it back in. That'd be way awesome.
Let's see... Oh yes. I'm getting married! My ring is fitting tighter because Chris and I went to the local Zales and got a free sizing band. So I'm not worried about waving it about or playing with the pups and loosing it.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Excited
YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I'm so excited! It doesn't help that I've just tried the YUMMY iced coffee from McDs. But Jeni's getting married in December in a lovely castle and I get to be her Maid of Honor! I guess this'll be the last wedding I go to as a Maid and and not a Matron!!! I can't wait to find out what I get to wear. I know it's in David's Bridal Marine color, which is super pretty. Jen's having a blue and silver winter wedding. I'm so excited.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Wedded Bliss
It's official! Chris and I are getting married! **SQUEEL** Anyway... in lue of the blessed event, I created yet another blogger page. Just check out randrwedding.blogspot.com
And I'll see you there.
And I'll see you there.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Culture fest
Just wanted to say HI. Not much's been going on personally. Chris' been gone and he'll be coming back tomorrow. We're learning to tighten our wallet and start a better budgeting program. The dogs and chins have been doing okay.
I helped out at the First Annual Culture Fest. It was a really impressive event. I know I wasn't planning on it being such a big event but was plesantly surprised by it. I participated in the kids activity department. At first it was pretty quiet with everything else going on, but suddenly there was a boom of children down stairs under the tent coloring, painting, creating, etc. It was a really good time. I even got some facepainting in. Abby was a gem at it, so she did it for a majority of the time.
It was definetly a real success. Someone said there was over 1,500 there! That's amazing!
Despite it being a Saturday (which means I was already worn down) it was a good one. I did get a bit more worn out, so it's a good thing we have this three day weekend, so that I have two days to recover.
I helped out at the First Annual Culture Fest. It was a really impressive event. I know I wasn't planning on it being such a big event but was plesantly surprised by it. I participated in the kids activity department. At first it was pretty quiet with everything else going on, but suddenly there was a boom of children down stairs under the tent coloring, painting, creating, etc. It was a really good time. I even got some facepainting in. Abby was a gem at it, so she did it for a majority of the time.
It was definetly a real success. Someone said there was over 1,500 there! That's amazing!
Despite it being a Saturday (which means I was already worn down) it was a good one. I did get a bit more worn out, so it's a good thing we have this three day weekend, so that I have two days to recover.
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