Santa along with Genius Golfer got me an upgraded computer, so this weekend will be spent transferring all the info from the old one to the new computer and massive new external hard drive. I am amazed at the amount of stuff that can be accumulated on one's computer when you really don't pay that close attention.
Just on one segment of the old hard drive I have over 32K photos...that isn't the size of the files, but the number of photos. Obsessive compulsive...you say? Yes, I believe I am.
However, as I sat yesterday taking more photos of my family enjoying Christmas presents and giving and receiving...I took dozens more. I doubt the time will ever come that I regret having so many photos.
I shared that OCD behavior by making a few nature calendars using my pictures. We received two collage frames of photos from my mom of the kids throughout the years. I used my photos to make Christmas cards this year for friends and family.
No, no regrets about the number of photos I take. I may rethink that as it is taking a L-O-N-G time to transfer everything. Upgrades, though, not regrets.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Promise Fulfilled
"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."
Isaiah 9:6
Merry Christmas, one and all.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Promise Given
Christmas Eve for the Nephites...
9 Now it came to pass that there was a day set apart by the unbelievers, that all those who believed in those traditions should be put to death except the sign should come to pass, which had been given by Samuel the prophet.
10 Now it came to pass that when Nephi, the son of Nephi, saw this wickedness of his people, his heart was exceedingly sorrowful.
11 And it came to pass that he went out and bowed himself down upon the earth, and cried mightily to his God in behalf of his people, yea, those who were about to be destroyed because of their faith in the tradition of their fathers.
12 And it came to pass that he cried mightily unto the Lord all that day; and behold, the voice of the Lord came unto him, saying:
13 Lift up your head and be of good cheer; for behold, the time is at hand, and on this night shall the sign be given, and on the morrow come I into the world, to show unto the world that I will fulfil all that which I have caused to be spoken by the mouth of my holy prophets.
14 Behold, I come unto my own, to fulfil all things which I have made known unto the children of men from the foundation of the world, and to do the will, both of the Father and of the Son—of the Father because of me, and of the Son because of my flesh. And behold, the time is at hand, and this night shall the sign be given.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Why I Don't Ski
I was sent this by a good friend in an email this week. It cracked me up. With The Boy loving his snowboarding life, and Genius Golfer a ski fan as well, people have asked me why I don't join them on the slopes. Well, this story answers that questions in spades. Enjoy!
Even if you aren't a skier, you'll be able to appreciate the humor
of the slopes as written by a New Orleans paper:
A friend just got back from a holiday skiing trip to Utah with the
kind of story that warms the cockles of any body's heart.
Conditions were perfect...12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over...the "Tell me when we're having fun" kind of day. One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a rest room. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away. If you've ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below doesn't help matters. With time running out, the woman weighed her options. Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that since she was wearing an all-white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods and no one would even notice. He assured her, "The white will provide more than adequate camouflage."
So she headed for the tree line, began lowering her ski pants and proceeded to do her thing. If you've ever parked on the side of a slope, then you know there is a right way and wrong way to set your skis so you don't move.
Yup, you got it!!! She had them positioned the wrong way. Steep slopes are not forgiving...even during the most embarrassing moments. Without warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out-of-control, racing through the trees...somehow missing all of them and onto another slope. Her derriere and the reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees, and she was picking up speed all the while.
She continued backwards, totally out-of-control, creating an unusual vista for the other skiers. The woman skied back under the lift and finally collided violently with a pylon.
The bad news was that she broke her arm and was unable to pull up her ski pants. At long last her husband arrived, putting an end to her nudie show, then summoned the ski patrol. They transported her to a hospital.
While in the emergency room, a man with an obviously broken leg was put in the bed next to hers. "So, how'd you break your leg?" she asked, making small talk. "It was the stupidest thing you ever saw," he said. "I was riding up this ski lift and suddenly, I couldn't believe my eyes! There was this crazy woman skiing backward, out-of-control, down the mountain, with her bare bottom hanging out of her pants. I leaned over to get a better look and fell out of the lift."
"So, how'd you break your arm?"
Even if you aren't a skier, you'll be able to appreciate the humor
of the slopes as written by a New Orleans paper:
A friend just got back from a holiday skiing trip to Utah with the
kind of story that warms the cockles of any body's heart.
Conditions were perfect...12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over...the "Tell me when we're having fun" kind of day. One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a rest room. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away. If you've ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below doesn't help matters. With time running out, the woman weighed her options. Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that since she was wearing an all-white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods and no one would even notice. He assured her, "The white will provide more than adequate camouflage."
So she headed for the tree line, began lowering her ski pants and proceeded to do her thing. If you've ever parked on the side of a slope, then you know there is a right way and wrong way to set your skis so you don't move.
Yup, you got it!!! She had them positioned the wrong way. Steep slopes are not forgiving...even during the most embarrassing moments. Without warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out-of-control, racing through the trees...somehow missing all of them and onto another slope. Her derriere and the reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees, and she was picking up speed all the while.
She continued backwards, totally out-of-control, creating an unusual vista for the other skiers. The woman skied back under the lift and finally collided violently with a pylon.
The bad news was that she broke her arm and was unable to pull up her ski pants. At long last her husband arrived, putting an end to her nudie show, then summoned the ski patrol. They transported her to a hospital.
While in the emergency room, a man with an obviously broken leg was put in the bed next to hers. "So, how'd you break your leg?" she asked, making small talk. "It was the stupidest thing you ever saw," he said. "I was riding up this ski lift and suddenly, I couldn't believe my eyes! There was this crazy woman skiing backward, out-of-control, down the mountain, with her bare bottom hanging out of her pants. I leaned over to get a better look and fell out of the lift."
"So, how'd you break your arm?"
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
No Escape
It's the "most wonderful time of the year" to be sure, but the treats that seem to come out of the woodwork are what makes it so good! What is it with Christmas that makes me think I need to bake for days and days; make fudge and Canadian Squares? Sure we give a lot to friends and neighbors, but I seem to put away a lot more than I know I should.
But it is soooooo yummy. And it's only once a year, or so I tell myself. Happy Snacking, friends.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Time Is Short, Really
Today is the 21st of December, you know what that means?
That means that the shortest day of the year is today. That is right, winter solstice, is today. That means that today will have the shortest amount of daylight all year long. That also means that beginning tomorrow the days will begin to get longer, until my favorite time of year--the third week of June--when the daylight is the longest all year.
This is like the turning point of winter for me. Remind me that I said this when it gets to mid February and I think I am going to go postal due to the winter doldrums, but I think I can do this winter thing this year.
Nah, don't quote me on that.
That means that the shortest day of the year is today. That is right, winter solstice, is today. That means that today will have the shortest amount of daylight all year long. That also means that beginning tomorrow the days will begin to get longer, until my favorite time of year--the third week of June--when the daylight is the longest all year.
This is like the turning point of winter for me. Remind me that I said this when it gets to mid February and I think I am going to go postal due to the winter doldrums, but I think I can do this winter thing this year.
Nah, don't quote me on that.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
