<?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-4283388465722031697</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:53:32.979-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentimental Journey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>108</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5769483912631064330</id><published>2012-02-13T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T20:07:35.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speaking of Movies...</title><content type='html'>We used to walk to the movies every Saturday afternoon. The theater at that time was across from the railroad crossing.  On one side, was a Cleaners and the other, a Drugstore (pharmacy) with an ice cream parlor. The matinee started at one o'clock.  For ten cents, you were rewarded with previews, a cartoon, a continuing serial and the main feature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was "in love" with the usher (oh yes, we had them).  His name was Mario Martamona, a good Italian boy!  :)  The usher carried a flashlight and guided you to your seat if the show had already started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On some Saturdays, the manager held Talent Shows at intermission.  Intermission was usually before the main feature.  Some of my friends would get up on the stage and sing, tap dance or whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Grandmom &amp; Grandpop were first married, she would go to the movies on Tuesday night as they gave out dishes.  I think Kathi has her set that she got there but will check with my sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the stories that Jeannette tells is she went on a date to the movies and the guy asked for two children's tickets.   I think she was embarrassed.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Mischief Night which is the night before Halloween, the teenagers in town would do all kinds of crazy things.   One time, they put Berger's  cow in the lobby.  Usually, they just piled junk in front of the bank.  But that's another story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5769483912631064330?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5769483912631064330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5769483912631064330' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5769483912631064330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5769483912631064330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2012/02/speaking-of-movies.html' title='Speaking of Movies...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3737199874301636142</id><published>2012-02-10T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T22:28:08.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching Old Movies &amp; Other Uninteresting Things</title><content type='html'>I love movies.  Tonight, I saw the Clint Eastwood "Every Which Way but Lose" and laughed out loud.  I had seen it before but enjoyed it again.  TCM has some good oldies. It's interesting to see all of the men and women smoking away.  Times have really changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other matters, I had 4 teeth extracted on the bottom.  They were lose and I was afraid I would be out at dinner and would lose them.  So, bit the bullet and had them taken out.  Interesting enough, the dentist took my bottom partial about 2 weeks ago, sent it to a lab in Florida to add teeth to it.  When it came back, she extracted mine and put the new plate right in.  Says the pressure of the partial keeps the swelling down and less loss of blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I received a ticket from Stratford Police.  They have installed a photo-taking traffic light.  It seems I crossed an intersection on the amber light but it turned red before I got to the other side.  They sent me a picture of my car with license showing.  Boo Hoo!  Cost me $85.00.  I will avoid that intersection now.  It's  a very busy area.  I bet the town of Stratford is raking in the dough!  It's the first ticket I've received in twenty years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're supposed to see snow tonight &amp; get a lot colder.  Hate it!  Guess I'll sign off for tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3737199874301636142?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3737199874301636142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3737199874301636142' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3737199874301636142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3737199874301636142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2012/02/watching-old-movies-other-uninteresting.html' title='Watching Old Movies &amp; Other Uninteresting Things'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4777180599659379661</id><published>2012-01-28T22:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T22:31:14.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers in January!</title><content type='html'>We've had such a crazy winter here.  Had a light snow in late October and we said "oh my, we're in for it this year."  November was chilly but no snow.  December, the same with a couple of cold days thrown in and January, it got pretty cold with another light springling of snow.  At the end of January, we're enjoying temperatures in the 50s.  My Camelias started budding and I found a flower this morning.  It's not May, fellows - go back to sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe me when I say that I like this weather.  I think Spring when I see blooms this early.   Oh, I wish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to my brohter's house in Florida to get out of all this cold.  What a laugh!  If I only knew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4777180599659379661?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4777180599659379661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4777180599659379661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4777180599659379661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4777180599659379661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2012/01/flowers-in-january.html' title='Flowers in January!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5379671908359871222</id><published>2012-01-18T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T19:52:55.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And, now I'm 81!</title><content type='html'>I had a great day today!  Just felt happy!  All of my kiddies called in plus friends and relatives.  Rec'd two flower arrangments and gift cards to Pier 1 and Amazon.com. also a promise of dinner, a show and a pedicure.  Yesterday I had lunch with an "olde" girlfriend.  She and I have remained friends for 75 years so pretty good, huh?  But, of all these gifts, the greatest was talking to everyone and catching up.  I am truly blessed to have such a loving family and friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the news is that my granddaughter, Nicole has accepted a job at the University of Colorado in Boulder for coaching soccer.  She will be on the coaching staff.  That's great, isn't it?  I think Joe &amp; Denise are experiencing the "empty nest syndrom" with Ellie &amp; Brooke in California and Nicole there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my Happy Birthday singers were:  Bill's kids - all in good voice, Kathi,  Donna Fletcher and my sister.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will don my purple outfit &amp; red hat fora Red Hat Luncheon at Edna's house.  We always have a good time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5379671908359871222?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5379671908359871222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5379671908359871222' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5379671908359871222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5379671908359871222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-now-im-81.html' title='And, now I&apos;m 81!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3067830736564840328</id><published>2012-01-05T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T20:35:52.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>I don't know where I've been as I haven't been blogging for 3 months or more.  I certainly enjoy it.  Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad the holidays are over.  It seems to instill such a lot of stress in us.  I had about 13 people over for Christmas Eve and everything went pretty well, considering.  Christmas was over at Bill's!  Regardless, I was tired from all of the hoopla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not making resolutions this year either but like, Jane trying to get organized a bit.  This house is too small to have so much stuff in it.  I'm taking that old Mantel clock back to the repair shop.  If he can't fix it as it is, I'll ask him to install new insides.  It will lose its antique-ness but it's not doing anything except take up space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone see "We've bought a Zoo!"  Cute movie and a different role for Matt Damon.  I saw the "Artist" too and didn't think much of it.  It's a silent movie from back in the 20s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, wanted to say "hi" to everyone and hope to see you more often back here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3067830736564840328?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3067830736564840328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3067830736564840328' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3067830736564840328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3067830736564840328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6785463450720073453</id><published>2011-09-28T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T17:55:59.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Words</title><content type='html'>Let's have some chuckles!  Periodically, my kids and I come up with funny names which sends me into peals of laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the ones I remember most are those from the American Indians.  As I mentioned in a former post, I stayed at Chincoteaque Island.  I saw that Susan mentioned the Tallahatchie that had to be from the same source. And, how about Tallahasse? There's Mannahawkin, N.J. &amp; Forked River.  Forked is 2 syables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one time, we lived in Houston County in Georgia but it was pronounced &lt;br /&gt;"House-ton". I went to school with a girl with the last name of Buggy but it was pointed out to me that it was Buuggie. OMG, let's not do names...:-)!  Oh, let's!&lt;br /&gt;Grandpop worked with a guy by the name of Sugarbread and we had neighbors whose name was Rowbottom - either English or Indian, wouldn't you say?  Isn't this the time, Bill brings up Orangejello &amp; Lemonjello pronounced very different than spelled.  And, Dad worked with a Glasscock, a Woodcock &amp; a John Moneypenny.  So, put your funny thinking caps on laugh a little!   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6785463450720073453?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6785463450720073453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6785463450720073453' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6785463450720073453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6785463450720073453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/09/funny-words.html' title='Funny Words'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5838278821142201616</id><published>2011-09-24T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T14:15:56.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then I Went Shopping...</title><content type='html'>Started with looking for a card table &amp; chairs. Got them through a site called Hayneedle.com.  Noticed Bonnie used this site too.  Next, I needed make-up so went right to the Clinque page.  Got it.  You have to realize it's a rainy day and I hate to shop in the rain.  Finally, the rain stopped so took my butt to my fav furniture store in Sttratford to look for a console table.  I had moved the bookcase out of the hall into the middle room so had space for something small between the windows.  Found a small table with mirror above it.  I was telling the owner that after I croaked, stuff will still be coming in.  What is wrong with me?  Shouldn't I be contend to rock my life away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Saturday, Barbara &amp; I along with Ira (the paint guy) are going to the Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge in Oceanville, N.J. which is near Smithville.  They have tours on Saturday mornings (2 hours) so will get to see all kinds of birds.  They have identified 290 species.  Should be fun &amp; different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise,  I'm doing my Saturday thing:  cleaning out drawers, eating &amp; reading.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5838278821142201616?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5838278821142201616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5838278821142201616' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5838278821142201616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5838278821142201616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/09/and-then-i-went-shopping.html' title='And Then I Went Shopping...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-399207038095810304</id><published>2011-09-16T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T15:23:28.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why did I buy that?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, when we're away we find ourselves buying a souvenir and not thinking what we will possibly do with it at home.  Things I have bought:  An antique mantel clock, Hummels, china, crystal, an antique sewing machine, coffee cups,  tee shirts, hair piece, beer steins, pictures &amp; costume jewelry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I have found use for:  Tee shirts, coffee mugs, jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that are just sitting there:  clock, Hummels, china, crystal, beer steins, pictures &amp; non-working sewing machine &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that are long gone:  Hair piece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the stuff I bought in Germany.  In the 60s, it was fashionable to wear wigs &amp; hair pieces.  So?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering just what my children will do with this stuff.  Certainly, they are more practical than I am  Have a yard sale?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-399207038095810304?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/399207038095810304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=399207038095810304' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/399207038095810304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/399207038095810304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/09/why-did-i-buy-that.html' title='Why did I buy that?'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7748344503296534280</id><published>2011-09-14T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T18:35:59.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chincoteague &amp; Assateague Islands</title><content type='html'>I haven't been blogging as the site refuses to publish my blogs.  I have two more in Drafts.  Well, we'll see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my friend Barbara driving, we went to Chincoteague &amp; Assateague islands in Virginia on a Road Scholar trip.  It took us about four hours along a state highway hugging the coast.  We used her GPS and maps.  Interesting the GPS didn't recognize a new bridge to the island and kept telling us we should turn around as we were approaching water &amp; showed it.  For the uniformed, Assateague is a barrier island. stretching from Virginia through Maryland on the Atlantic Coast.  It is also home to a herd of wild ponies which are owned by the Chincoteague Fire Department, who care for them by providing medical attention twice a year.  They cull them in July by bringing/swimming the young foals across the bay to Chincoteague and auction them off (starting around $1500).  These monies are used for the town &amp; schools. The firemen are called "Salt Water Cowboys." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little local history:  Virginia was Confederate during the Civil War but because, Chincoteague had been trading with the North, they decided to remain with the Union.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was very interesting to learn something completely different.  There were twenty-eight people in the group coming from New York, PA, VA, SC, NC &amp; NJ.  Now, let's see if this will publish.  If not, I will definitely call my computer guy. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7748344503296534280?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7748344503296534280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7748344503296534280' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7748344503296534280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7748344503296534280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/09/chincoteague-assateague-islands.html' title='Chincoteague &amp; Assateague Islands'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5504534297195050085</id><published>2011-07-10T20:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T18:35:59.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mantle Clock</title><content type='html'>While we lived in Germany in the 60s, we brought all sorts of things back to the states.  I remember a "live" hairpiece that the girls in the salon could weave into your hair.  The 60s brought "teased" hair so that it was high on your head and the hairpiece added to the height.  We had Hummel figurines, china and crystal home parties.  And, of course, bought some.  There was a German woman who would sell us Hummels for 3-5 dollars.  In Germany, they were not a collectible item like here.  Another popular item was the clock: Coo Coo, Grandfather &amp; Mantle clocks.  The Mantle clock I bought was very old and worked after a fashion.  It has Westminster Chimes which added to it.  However, after returning home, it became unreliable.  It spent a couple years at various clock shops to no avail and on returning home, became just a thing sitting on the shelf.  Today, I resurrected it and placed it on the bookcase in the hall.  Lo &amp; behold, it started ticking away.  I don't think the chimes work anymore but it does my heart good to see it running again.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5504534297195050085?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5504534297195050085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5504534297195050085' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5504534297195050085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5504534297195050085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/07/mantle-clock.html' title='The Mantle Clock'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3579716734573755219</id><published>2011-05-04T20:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T20:46:00.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother</title><content type='html'>My Mom died in November 1999.  She was 92 years old. Even though she's been gone over ten years, I still have dreams about her.  Some of the things we remember most about her was her unwillingness to give up; she would challenge anyone if she knew she was right.  So here we have this little woman who had to  use a pillow on the seat of her car, looking through the steering wheel to meet her friends, drive to her sister's house 50 miles away or just go shopping.  She cook pick up anything in the craft store, check it out and then go home and  make a replica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom showed us how to stand up for ourselves.  She was the best cook and housekeeper and sadly, I didn't follow in her footsteps.  Maybe, it's something of being the  middle child.  She was patient and sat with us at night doing our homework.  Jeannette &amp; I were seriously challenged when it came to math and Mom with only a 9Th grade education, pounded it into us.  She played the piano and we loved it when  she played Christmas carols on Christmas Eve. We gathered around and just sung our hearts out.  The tradition was to be there on Christmas Eve for Santa's visit (a fireman disguised as Santa) who came into the house and gave presents to all the children. We had a Pollyanna, a Grab Bag and food to follow.  It was always a wonderful evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were little kids, Mom &amp; Dad would pack a picnic lunch and we would take a walk in the woods, have our lunch and look for Indian arrowheads, caves and other interesting things.  Our Dad was special too but I'll save him for another time.  Sometimes, it's impossible to talk about one and not the other.  At night, after dinner &amp; homework, we would play games; anagrams, Chinese checkers and Checkers.  We would build card houses.  When money was tight, Mom would sew new dresses for our dolls for Christmas and we were happy with that.  As Mother was assistant Librarian, we couldn't wait to get our first library card to check books out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our lives were fairly even, I think.  My parents never argued in front of us  that I remember. Mom did demand respect for herself and her adult friends.  I remember one time walking over to her friend's house and apologizing.  It seems I "talked back" to her and my mother was horrified.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3579716734573755219?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3579716734573755219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3579716734573755219' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3579716734573755219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3579716734573755219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-mother.html' title='My Mother'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2530538049483411027</id><published>2011-05-03T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T20:46:00.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baffled Again!</title><content type='html'>The latest score:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Baffler 10&lt;br /&gt;      Squirrels  0&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2530538049483411027?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2530538049483411027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2530538049483411027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2530538049483411027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2530538049483411027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/05/baffled-again.html' title='Baffled Again!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2590229160432460679</id><published>2011-04-19T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T19:24:58.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baffled!</title><content type='html'>The squirrels are!  I put a baffle on my feeder today.  Hopefully, that will take care of the varmints.  And maybe it won't as they are very clever!  Tune in tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2590229160432460679?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2590229160432460679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2590229160432460679' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2590229160432460679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2590229160432460679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/04/baffled.html' title='Baffled!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-9171864165481026214</id><published>2011-04-18T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T09:48:11.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even Though...</title><content type='html'>Even though I won't be here for Easter, I still have to have my jelly beans! And I love the chocolate marshmallow bunnies as well. It's that time of the year for breaking diets. (There's a Scarlet Tanager on my feeder. My computer sits next to the window where my feeder is located).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I will not be here for Easter, I will still have zits on my chin from all the chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though....I'll be traveling on Amtrak to my brother's in N.C. for the weekend. I'm sure along with the Easter Egg Hunt, there will be lots of jelly beans. I wonder if I can wait that long or will bite the dust and go out and buy some early. Hmmm! Good idea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-9171864165481026214?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/9171864165481026214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=9171864165481026214' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9171864165481026214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9171864165481026214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/04/even-though.html' title='Even Though...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6134152606144720550</id><published>2011-03-17T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T20:40:15.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Songs We Sing/Whistle/Hum all Day</title><content type='html'>"I'm Henry the 8th, I am....Henry the 8th I am, Iam&lt;br /&gt;I got married to the widow next door&lt;br /&gt;and she's been married 7 times before&lt;br /&gt;And everyone was a Henry. It couldn't be a Billy or a Sam , etc. etc. etc."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where that came from - somewhere in my head -and found its way to my lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even remember who sang it - was it the Monkeys?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6134152606144720550?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6134152606144720550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6134152606144720550' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6134152606144720550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6134152606144720550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/03/songs-we-singwhistlehum-all-day.html' title='Songs We Sing/Whistle/Hum all Day'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1658364920874509628</id><published>2011-03-12T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T17:57:48.529-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Posts</title><content type='html'>I was reading earlier posts and laughed out loud reading the responses on "our" first homes, dated 12/6/08.  Take another look and enjoy it too.  Actually, was looking to see what blogs to put in the book.  I haven't done anything about it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring is on its way!  Our clocks get pushed forward tonight (hope I remember) so less hours sleeping.  Does anyone else have "daylight saving time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donna Fletcher called me today and we talked a good hour.  Her car was stolen on Thursday and it's a big headache for her.  It seems there's a lot of theft regarding cars right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out and bought some jelly beans and tootsie roll pops.  Have a craving for something sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, found that someone from Japan had commented on my blog. Of course, it was all written in Japanese letters so no hope of understanding it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1658364920874509628?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1658364920874509628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1658364920874509628' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1658364920874509628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1658364920874509628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/03/old-posts.html' title='Old Posts'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4378812144059941575</id><published>2011-03-09T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T17:11:00.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Post</title><content type='html'>Hi all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time! My life has taken many twists and turns in the past few months. I do thank all of you for your cards and good wishes. I'm still undecided if I want to put my bod through Chemo or not. Would prefer not to but will get a 2ND opinion on the 18Th of this month. I'm sure it will be more of the same. Kath did some research on a couple of docs who prefer alternative medicine so I've emailed one in Houston. They did such a good job on my great-granddaughter down there that surely, they'll have something for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back to my old schedule now and feel just wonderful. My weight has dropped so all that fasting for tests paid off. Hope it will stay away... .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also playing Scrabble online with my daughters and they sure show me up!" But I enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to post more often in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4378812144059941575?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4378812144059941575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4378812144059941575' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4378812144059941575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4378812144059941575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2011/03/new-post.html' title='New Post'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5269324522453748353</id><published>2010-12-12T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T08:43:32.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Watta Year!</title><content type='html'>Starting off the year with a trip to Virgin Gorda and then out to Jackson for a high school graduation kept me stepping along with eternal packing and unpacking. Then bamm! The great-grandsons started coming with Asher and Beck. The "Greats" are going to outnumber the "Grands", I think. Eleven versus sixteen...........hmmm? Then, we're sure to have another next year with Alana but that's for then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to the conclusion that I really put food in the feeders for the squirrels and like Susan said "they have to eat too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I've enjoyed being with my local grandchildren to various sporting events or just hanging out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned that I don't have the stamina that I used to have i.e. I can't jump rope anymore or stand on my head! I know that the best times really don't cost money; that family is so important and I learned to play Bunco!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5269324522453748353?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5269324522453748353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5269324522453748353' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5269324522453748353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5269324522453748353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/12/oh-watta-year.html' title='Oh Watta Year!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2400799258031387</id><published>2010-11-04T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T11:59:51.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Things</title><content type='html'>Five things that make me happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Talking with family&lt;br /&gt;2. Being warm in the winter time&lt;br /&gt;3. Having great friendships&lt;br /&gt;4. Getting a surprise phone call&lt;br /&gt;5. Having a good book to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two things that upset me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The squirrels on my feeder&lt;br /&gt;2. An unpleasant conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three challenges: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Thinking positive&lt;br /&gt;2. Creating a device to keep the squirrels off the feeder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2400799258031387?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2400799258031387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2400799258031387' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2400799258031387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2400799258031387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/11/five-things.html' title='Five Things'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8841574582447771885</id><published>2010-09-29T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T22:53:51.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yukking it Up and Other Things</title><content type='html'>Maggie invited me over today. We wanted to compare/translate postcards that we received through Postcrossing. Mag had ordered more postcards from the Zazzle website and they were pretty good quality. Of course, they were about a buck a piece, so pricey. We ordered some pizza and salad for an early dinner and watched "Bobby" that we really didn't care for so selected a light one called "Love Happens" which proved to be a winner. I do like Jennifer Anniston as her movies are usually funny &amp; happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple weeks ago, we met "the girls" who are still working and we listened to their gripes, etc. so were glad we retired!  We did see a celeb football player at the next table and he was very gracious to those who wanted pictures and autographs. The restaurant is called Maggiano's. It has an interesting concept.  Whatever you order, you pick something else in the same price range and the Chef prepares it for you to take home.  Nice, huh?  My meal was Baked Ziti with sausage and I brought home Eggplant Parmesan that was enough for two more meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's after 1 am and I wondered why I'm not sleeping. Ah, I had two glasses of green tea at Maggie's!  That'll do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8841574582447771885?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8841574582447771885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8841574582447771885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8841574582447771885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8841574582447771885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/09/yukking-it-up-and-other-things.html' title='Yukking it Up and Other Things'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8899471185589617001</id><published>2010-08-21T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T05:36:09.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Wandering Around...</title><content type='html'>Louise, a cousin plus Aunt J. and I took a road trip today. I wanted to see if I remembered how to drive to our cousin's house in Port Republic. Louise had her trusty GPS but we hardly bothered with it. Leaving the White Horse Pike in Hammonton, we took Moss Mill Road. (I often thought of a mill being there at one time). Anyway, the road wanders all through the Pine Barrens. It was a beautiful day for a ride and we enjoyed being together and watching the countryside fly by. On arriving at Port Republic, we soon found out that Mike was not at home. Of course, we never told him we were coming either. So we opted to continue driving to Swainton which is on the way to Cape May. We wanted to eat a late lunch at Chef Ted's Offshore Cafe. I had been there before with Barbara and we had yummy hot pork-pulled sandwiches with provolone cheese, peppers and onions and my mouth watered for it again. Alas! Not on the menu today! So next time, we will call first! Jeannette and I ended with a vegetable quiche and salad. Louise had a turkey panini which looked mighty good. With our tummys full, we hit the parkway, then the expressway for home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8899471185589617001?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8899471185589617001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8899471185589617001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8899471185589617001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8899471185589617001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-wandering-around.html' title='Just Wandering Around...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7645921649681469477</id><published>2010-08-13T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T08:09:49.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sharing of of the Subconscious Mind</title><content type='html'>Six years ago, we were looking for continuing education credits and found a seminar in Atlantic City that seemed a good fit. It was called "Dreams: Explore the Power of the Dreaming Mind." The whole idea was to learn how to process your dreams through recordings, symbols, etc. It was an all-day workshop and presented by a Ph.D. from Cross Country University based in Nashville, TN. I had attended another on Social Work Ethics and was suitably impressed by the presentation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, three of us decided to start hosting "Dream" meetings again. The idea is to write down your dreams as you remember them. We then share, discuss and many times resolve issues or even see things in a different way. It's proved very interesting and helpful esp. if the dream is troublesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we always have food! I hosted it last Sunday and Barbara will have it again later in the month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7645921649681469477?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7645921649681469477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7645921649681469477' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7645921649681469477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7645921649681469477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/08/sharing-of-of-unconscious.html' title='A Sharing of of the Subconscious Mind'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1001270655341620544</id><published>2010-07-31T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T20:49:56.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Hot, Hot, Hot!</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged lately. It's too hot to do much except stay in and read so that's what I've been doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning though before it got terribly humid, I took myself back to Ace Hardware and bought a "cheap" bird feeder...the kind that hangs by a hook. Of course, I didn't have anything to hang it on so put it on the clothesline with picture-wire through the chain connecting it to the line. Now my arch enemy was sure he could manage another feeder but he had a helluva time. First, the line moved and because the feeder is made mostly of plastic, it also swayed in the breeze. So he's up there doing calisthenics on the high wire. Wish I could have video-taped him and posted it here. I do have all sorts of birds. Did identify a Downy woodpecker, black-capped chickadee and the usual array of sparrows. Still haven't identified my red bird with the black helmet and had a green one today. Think he is in the warbler family. I need grandpop big time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were here last night and Abby stayed over. Today, she met up with one of her friends from Laurel Springs from her old school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1001270655341620544?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1001270655341620544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1001270655341620544' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1001270655341620544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1001270655341620544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-hot-hot-hot.html' title='It&apos;s Hot, Hot, Hot!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6672723649884995638</id><published>2010-07-22T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T20:36:47.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Remember the Words?</title><content type='html'>"There's a hole in my bucket, Dear Eliza, Dear Eliza&lt;br /&gt; There's a hole in my bucket, Dear Eliza, A HOLE..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Then,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6672723649884995638?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6672723649884995638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6672723649884995638' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6672723649884995638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6672723649884995638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/07/do-you-remember-words.html' title='Do You Remember the Words?'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7967709534865410884</id><published>2010-06-28T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T05:00:41.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Songs I Remember from PI...</title><content type='html'>I was talking to Donna Fletcher and we were discussing our time from Pizza Inn in Abilene.  Remember the juke box man who never could understand why the money in the machine would never  match the songs played.  So much for you gals who worked at night and "fixed" the juke box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The songs we will always remember are Creedance Clearwater's Proud Mary, Brown Sugar by the Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline &amp; Cherry Cherry. So everytime we hear them, we think of PI!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7967709534865410884?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7967709534865410884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7967709534865410884' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7967709534865410884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7967709534865410884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/06/songs-i-remember-from-pi.html' title='Songs I Remember from PI...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4832998000616973371</id><published>2010-06-25T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T08:20:37.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AND THEN THE POWER WENT OFF...</title><content type='html'>We had another bad storm last night - the usual things happening to me i.e. more branches fell and swooped to the roof, in front of my car, etc. The 75 an hour winds never did knock down the bird feeder so I'm sure the squirrels are happy! And then, of course we lost our electricity. We take so much for granted. You go in a room, hit the switch and nothing happens. Flashlights? Where did I put them? The freezer starts getting warmer and the food melts or just about. Useless! Unless you want to make a meal of corn, peas and Popsicles. Ugh! As I had a substantial lunch, I oped for cereal and warm milk. And cookies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As frustrating as this is, a tragedy happened! As far as I know, a guy with his ear phones on, was crossing the railroad tracks and didn't hear/see the train. This happened in the rain right down at the end of the street. With helicopters overhead, and fire/police about, it was a most nerve-wracking evening. We only know that the person was unconscious, the train did stop and remained in town for over 3 hours. The guy was air-evacuated to the hospital and it was felt that he would survive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, we soon congregated on porches and spent time with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I had to take the car to the garage for a check up. I had a devil of a time getting there with roads closed for fallen trees and branches and traffic all trying to move 3 spaces and sit for 10 minutes before moving again. I came home to a warm house so immediately opened all of the windoews and doors. I called Jim D. and he came over this morning and removed all of the debrie. Unfortunately, I have some damage to my garage once more. So it goes. Pat Mather had me over for lunch so enjoyed a nice cold glass (she still had ice) of ice tea and a sandwich. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, at 5 this evening, the power came back on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4832998000616973371?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4832998000616973371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4832998000616973371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4832998000616973371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4832998000616973371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/06/and-then-power-went-off.html' title='AND THEN THE POWER WENT OFF...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3603654710202054344</id><published>2010-06-17T14:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T15:14:57.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why the Squirrel is so Frustrated..</title><content type='html'>Or my continuing saga with the squirrels and the bird feeder........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim came over yesterday and we moved the feeder away from the trees.  So the squirrels just climbed the pole and there they are on top feeding their fat faces again.  So I greased the pole with Crisco and they can only go so far then slide right down again.  I watched him go up six times only to come down.  I put Pam on the bottom of it and so far, so good!  The birds are happy and so am I!  I'm sure this is only a temporary measure and he'll find another way up.  I did put some seed at the base to lure him to look for it there.  HoHum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3603654710202054344?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3603654710202054344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3603654710202054344' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3603654710202054344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3603654710202054344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-squirrel-is-so-frustrated.html' title='Why the Squirrel is so Frustrated..'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2832213419237631476</id><published>2010-06-15T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T20:39:26.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Movie Theatres of South Jersey</title><content type='html'>Maggie, Jeannette &amp; I took our own sentimental journey tonight. The Collings-Knight House Committee in Collingswood held a lecture featuring Alan Hauss who wrote &amp; discussed his book on the the movie houses of an earlier time. He had a lot of slides depicting the theatres back in the 30s and of course, their demise. Even had  one from Laurel Springs so I was impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the lecture, we took a tour of the house (1900s), then a light dinner (which we didn't expect) and the lecture. Mag &amp; I both bought his book. After I read it, I will probably send it down to Uncle Bill as I'm sure he'll enjoy it as much as I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the theatres are now churches, some are operating as Little Theatre/Plays and others are store fronts. All have some semblance of the earlier building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, Barbara and I are going to the Socrates Cafe for another discussion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2832213419237631476?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2832213419237631476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2832213419237631476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2832213419237631476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2832213419237631476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/06/movie-theatres-of-south-jersey.html' title='The Movie Theatres of South Jersey'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6323431262459828899</id><published>2010-05-23T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T11:32:17.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Miserable Squirrels!</title><content type='html'>I used to laugh at my sister who is always trapping squirrels in her yard. She releases them in the woods about three miles away. Now, I counted six this morning who were jumping into my bird feeder and stuffing their faces. I put up a make-shift shield where they jump from the tree; they knocked it down. I clipped clothes pins around the perimeter and they still get through. I even greased the pole so they've found another way. Finally, I've gathered stones to throw at them. I just have to learn to throw accurately. When they see me open the door, they scatter and shout obscenities at me in squirrel talk. Oh my! Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6323431262459828899?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6323431262459828899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6323431262459828899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6323431262459828899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6323431262459828899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/05/those-miserable-squirrels.html' title='Those Miserable Squirrels!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4765498085644081051</id><published>2010-05-07T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T06:04:57.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathrooms &amp; Birds</title><content type='html'>Everyone has some kind of routine in the morning. I write things down and sometimes, get to cross off completed tasks. My list is as follows: Replace light bulb on deck, clean bathrooms, check in at Victoria's Secret. But first, had to have my coffee &amp; cheerios while reading the paper. My table faces the yard and of course, spent some time watching &amp; identifying the birds in the feeder. Today, along with the usual Robin, Cardinal and House Finch, saw a Scarlet Tanager. I had to get out my book to make sure. It was so pretty with this brilliant red body with black wings. I was thrilled. My neighbor gets the Goldfinch but I haven't seen it yet. Yesterday, I went out and bought some binoculars so now am a certified birder. Anyway, I didn't start cleaning the bathrooms until eleven or so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have to check VS? No, no, I am not looking for something sexy! They have a spray cologne/perfume in a tube a little larger than lipstick that you can put in your purse so was thinking of a gift. I never did get there. Will put it on my list for tomorrow - when it comes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4765498085644081051?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4765498085644081051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4765498085644081051' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4765498085644081051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4765498085644081051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/05/bathrooms-birds.html' title='Bathrooms &amp; Birds'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2690909192761775162</id><published>2010-05-04T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T15:53:55.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugar Gliders &amp; Softball</title><content type='html'>Monday night, went over to Bill's for dinner and then, we all took off for Abby's Softball game. She played short-stop and does a good job. She was pitching last year but gave it up for the infield position. All of the kids play and I try to attend as many games as I can. Even Billy plays T-ball and your brother is one of the coaches on Abby's team. It's a kid-friendly game with all of the kids getting to play. Then, there's the parents who all seem nice as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the Dads had a fur-lined purse carrying 2 sugar-gliders; tiny little furry creatures with pouches said to be from the Kangaroo family. They have medium length tails, webbie bodies and striped heads/faces. He said his wife brought them back from Florida. Did you ever hear of them, Kathi? They probably have another name but that's what he told me.  So even at softball games, you learn something new.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2690909192761775162?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2690909192761775162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2690909192761775162' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2690909192761775162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2690909192761775162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/05/sugar-sliders-softball.html' title='Sugar Gliders &amp; Softball'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2283804445465558930</id><published>2010-04-25T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T08:57:35.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How the Cow Refused to be Ridden and Other Stories</title><content type='html'>We moved to Trenton Avenue in the 30s when I was in 3rd grade and it was kid's heaven. There were 4-5 houses on both sides of the street. Lining  the street, tall maple trees wove their branches across the top forming a canopy and to a little kid, seemed like we had our own forest. There were about 19 kids all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bergers lived next door and they had a semi-farm with horses named Diamond and Rumple, chickens and a cow called Daisey. There was always a litter of kittens or puppies. Daisey and the horses grazed in a field behind the houses. Charlie Berger and Billy Kuhlwind built a tree house out in this field. In the summertime, we tried to coax Daisey to give us a ride and she always ran away. However, we did get to ride the horses once in a while when given permission. As Daisey was a milk cow, Mr. B. would milk her in the garage/barn in the evenings and it was fascinating to watch. Of course, he would squirt us until Mrs. Berger hollered at him. Bergers were a big family of 6-8 kids. Catherine was in the middle of her family and around 16 when we moved in so took to organizing games after school and in summer. We would meet at her house, eat cookies that Mrs. B. provided and make plans. I can't remember any bullying or fighting. It was a wonderful childhood and I still remember the games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the street, the water company had a large storage tower. It stood on a hill and in the wintertime, we would sled there. As we got older, we would walk to Laurel Lake that was a mile away. I can remember coming home freezing to death and warming my feet on the radiators in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One spring, it rained for 3 days and we had 2 ft of water in the cellar. Dad would put Jeannette in a bucket and give her a ride around the room. Jake Mick who lived in the next block came down the street paddling his canoe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Mischief Night (which was the night before Halloween), we would throw corn (from Stafford's farm) on the neighbor's porches and grease the door knobs. That was the extent of our mischief. The teenagers in town would collect anything that wasn't tied down and put it in front of the door of the Laurel Springs Bank. In the morning, you would find your rocking chairs, etc. there and all kinds of trash. My uncle told me that once they put a cow in the movie theater. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeannette and I were reminescing the other day of our times on Trenton Avenue so thought it should be written down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2283804445465558930?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2283804445465558930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2283804445465558930' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2283804445465558930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2283804445465558930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-cow-refused-to-be-ridden-and-other.html' title='How the Cow Refused to be Ridden and Other Stories'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8061027560739987983</id><published>2010-04-15T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T08:28:06.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feast or Famine</title><content type='html'>That's what retirement life is all about! This week, I'm feasting! Everyday, there's something to do. Monday, I met Patty and we took Aunt Gin's car to the shop. Tuesday, took Aunt Mary to the dentist. Her granddaughter works as a dental hygienist in an office over in Medford so she goes over there rather than closer to home. And, ate lunch at the Olive Garden. On leaving, we bought some of their chicken soup to take over to Aunt Gin who recently had hip replacement surgery. A week after coming home, she fell off her bed and the replacement became dislodged so she has to go back for more surgery. Wednesday, Aunt J. and I went to our Socrates Cafe meeting. We discussed Socialism and all aspects of it - of course, we got off on other tangents but is always interesting - then, of course, lunch on the way home. Today is our Red Hat Day/lunch and Maggie and I are hosting at the Village Cheese Shop in Haddon Heights. We bought "coasters" at the Dollar Store for gifts for all the Hatters. Tomorrow, Marilyn Lynch and I are visiting a friend who is now in an assisted living facility and as you may have guessed, we are taking her to lunch. This is why you see so many fat old ladies! On Saturday, along with Patty and the kids, we are going to the Annual Ham Supper, a fundraiser for the fire department. And Sunday, like God, I'll rest!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8061027560739987983?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8061027560739987983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8061027560739987983' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8061027560739987983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8061027560739987983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/04/feast-or-famine.html' title='Feast or Famine'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4707054474311064098</id><published>2010-03-22T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T12:45:58.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't You Wish You Had a Hoagie?</title><content type='html'>Funny, I was just reading Sarah's blog and saw the darling pictures of the girls with their cute expressions. So cute. Then, switched to my blog. The funny thing is that Sarah &amp; Miles' song is still playing. Guess I didn't sign out of theirs properly. Anyway, it's nice to type to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a 6 inch hoagie for lunch today with chips, soda and Cherry Garcia ice cream. Love Ben &amp; Jerry's Cherry Garcia! Had made a list of things to do today and just about completed the list so felt I deserved a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our H.O.P.E. 30Th Anniversary luncheon on Saturday and I had the best time re-connecting with old friends. Cheryl who was our committee Chair, scanned all of the old pictures (Bob Schneider, Dolores Hodges, ET AL) and made them into a DVD to flash on the screen and of course, made an extra for me. So neat! I cried seeing all of my old friends...happy &amp; sad tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand my brother-in-law, Bob Hause died last week. I'm sure you received Rob's&lt;br /&gt;email. I hope things go well for Rob. Bob &amp; Addie had put a couple friends in place for this. I'll try to contact her old friend, Margaret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll finish my list. So take care. I just wanted to let you know that I enjoyed my hoagie and thought of you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4707054474311064098?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4707054474311064098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4707054474311064098' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4707054474311064098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4707054474311064098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/03/dont-you-wish-you-had-hoagie.html' title='Don&apos;t You Wish You Had a Hoagie?'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6695653995907777153</id><published>2010-03-14T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T08:00:34.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's What Happens When You Don't Have a GPS!</title><content type='html'>Sunny and I decided to go to the James Michener Museum in Doylestown, PA. The museum was displaying the works of Edward Weston who photographed scenes/people in the early part of the 20th century and we thought that would be informative as well as enjoyable. With directions from the museum, we found our way there with only a couple wrong turns. I remember Bob Schneider had a brother living in Doylestown but that was a long time ago. We meandered through the museum looking at Weston's life, loves, marriages, etc. There was a little cafe/gift shop so we picked up a light bite. Leaving around 2 P.M., we figured we would follow the directions backward. HA! Sunny did not have a road map for that area. Well, needless to say, we got lost. Stopping at a gas station for directions, we got rear-ended but just jolted and no damage. That should have been an indication of the rest of the day. However, we did manage to find ourselves on the outskirts of Philadelphia and Sunny knew her way from there - well almost! It seemed to take us forever to get home but we finally did. So we consider it our adventure and as someone we know would say that it was a fun day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6695653995907777153?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6695653995907777153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6695653995907777153' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6695653995907777153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6695653995907777153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/03/heres-what-happens-when-you-dont-have.html' title='Here&apos;s What Happens When You Don&apos;t Have a GPS!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8172745997751785915</id><published>2010-02-24T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T20:28:34.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Again!</title><content type='html'>Can you believe it?  We have 2 new snow storms coming in and it's the end of February!  We still have some on the ground from the last one.  Will I never see the bare streets again?  Maybe it's going to snow all year...ugh!  I think I should be a "snow bird" and move to Florida with the rest of the blue-haired ladies.  This time though, my shovel is on the porch.  Last time, it was in the garage - big help there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just downloaded another book for my Reader.  I hate to be stuck inside with nothing to read.  And, I have some comfort food; popcorn, pretzels, chocolate, cookies and wine.  So guess I'll survive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8172745997751785915?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8172745997751785915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8172745997751785915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8172745997751785915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8172745997751785915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-again.html' title='Snow Again!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8382548689599819428</id><published>2010-02-13T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T11:37:16.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradise Continued...</title><content type='html'>Tuesday was a "stay at home" day to loaf around,get some sun,visit with the family, take pictures,and make new friends. Donna had prepared activities for the rest of the week so that evening, we signed up for whatever we were interested in. In the evening, we had "Italian Night" on the beach and all 3 villas ate together. It is very easy to get used to this kind of life....hmmm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, Barb &amp; I joined most of the group for an all day sailing/catamaran trip. Our Captain was Pernell and local; the Mate was Nicki and from South Africa, Susan. Said she came here with another catamaran (where they build them) and stayed. A lot of the group went snorkeling in a small cove then we sailed to a barge/restaurant called Willi T's and had lunch. We told our brother that he could do the same thing only we would name it Willi P's! BTW, Willi T. was named after William Thornton who designed the Capitol in D.C. in the 19Th C. On the way back, Nicki made us some "Painkillers" that are made up of orange, pineapple and coconut juice along with a tot of rum. Pretty good! I'll have to send Joe the recipe for his new lounge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, a deep-sea fishing trip was planned so Barb and I had hot-stone massages instead. I never had one quite like it. She even put hot stones on my forehead and between my toes. It felt so good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donna caught a 64 lb. Wahoo! Mike had to help her haul it in. And, they enjoyed it for dinner. By the way, Mike put you both on his friend's list so you can open his pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, we went out on a yacht for the afternoon. He took us past Necker Island (Richard Bronson's) where we visited 9 years ago. We also saw a lot of other places/islands that we only read about. I never was in and out so many boats in all my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, found us back on the Mystique with our favorite captain &amp; mate. This time, we headed for Jon Von Werk Island to eat lunch at the Soggy Dollar. Pernell could only bring the cat in so far so we had to take the dinghy. I about croaked when I saw it as I am not the most graceful person around. All in all, I made it but got my butt wet as we were a little crowded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Sunday we bummed around. My camera's battery died on the 3rd day so I didn't get many pictures. However, Bill and Mike did. I will post the ones I got as soon as I upload them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I came home with a cold/bronchitis. It started on Saturday and I'm still coughing. So it goes. I came home to all of this snow and more predicted. Enjoy your warm sunny days! I envy you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill and I were talking about this trip and the one at Necker. Virgin Gorda was more "people friendly" but we had great service at Necker. But who can afford $50,000 a day? I'll take VG!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8382548689599819428?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8382548689599819428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8382548689599819428' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8382548689599819428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8382548689599819428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/02/paradise-continued.html' title='Paradise Continued...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5417219585492275320</id><published>2010-02-12T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T10:56:34.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Short Vacation in Paradise</title><content type='html'>We left home at 4:30 A.M. for Philadelphia Airport (17 degrees outside) dressed in our summer clothes with a couple of sweaters/hoodies...mighty, mighty cold! Leaving at 7:45 and flying USAire to San Juan took 3 1/2 hours. We were met by a pilot from Air America Charters who took our luggage and herded us to another gate for our flight to Tortolla. Here we met Bill, Donna, Jeanneanne, Brian and baby, Davis. The rest of the family came in later. The flight to Tortolla (BVI) took about 30 minutes in a little prop plane which held just 8 people. In Tortolla (Beef Island Airport), we went through Customs (didn't even have to take off our shoes) then took a water taxi to Virgin Gorda (translated Fat Lady), our destination. At the harbor, we were met with an truck with open rows of seats in the back and to our villa on Mango Bay, Aquamarne. It's about 12 miles from Spanish Town and is back in the hills - very beautiful. I was freaked out because the cars drive on the left side of the road but soon got used to it. There was a sign posted on a tree "Left is Right and Right is Suicide! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were 3 villas inter-connected by flagstone paths. Each villa had 3 master suites, 1 double and a studio. Barb and I had the double which was on the 2nd floor. We had an indoor shower (more on that later) and 2 balconies, one with a hammock. Bill &amp; Donna, Jeannette and Tom and our cousins, Mike and Sandy had the master suites...all had "outdoor" showers but were covered with lattice and foliage. I would stand on the balcony and talk to them when they were showering and I really couldn't see anything but a shadow. Soon stopped though...was only good for a short period. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Downstairs, the villa had "open" walls along with a patio, pool and faced the Caribbean that was only 1 flight down. There were kayaks for our use as well as beach chairs and lots of towels. The kitchen was well stocked with food and drink so each day, Mike or Donna made breakfast or we scrambled on our own. A Chef prepared our dinner. This was true for all the villas. Housekeeping took care of our rooms and laundry was picked up twice a week. Talk about being pampered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the group from N.C. didn't get in until 7 P.M. It seems they had to drive to Charlotte because of a snowstorm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll continue this tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5417219585492275320?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5417219585492275320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5417219585492275320' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5417219585492275320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5417219585492275320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/02/short-vacation-in-paradise.html' title='A Short Vacation in Paradise'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8418876221068085310</id><published>2010-01-19T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T15:27:13.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories of Ventnor Heights</title><content type='html'>This is a story that was sent to me (in the 90s) when I just started putting together my auto bio. It comes from Patricia Turner, youngest daughter of Aunt Eleanor. I think you'll like it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Christmas Trees Could Think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Christmas Eve, I worked until 9 P.M. at Woolworth's completing my two week stint after school to earn Christmas money. I was the last one out of the store and on Atlantic Avenue, there wasn't a trolley car in sight. As I waited, a taxicab stopped in front of me, and the driver turned out to be none other than Roland Suarez, the area's only, to my knowledge, operatic tenor and a family friend. Except for local radio and TV, fame had eluded him, so he drove a taxi to tide himself over the lean periods. He offered me a ride home, and although I protested that he had money to earn, I did get in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving at "Turner's Ranch", as our small corner property was affectionately known in the neighborhood, we found Daddy in the yard constructing a Christmas tree stand. Pleased to see Roland, he called out, "Raoul, (his given name), I need inspiration! Come and sing, TREES." "I know the melody, Mr. Turner, but I don't know the words," said Roland. "Don't worry," Daddy said, "You sing. I'll give you each line as you sing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it went, "I think that I shall never see",- bang bang bang - "A poem lovely as a tree" - bang bang - "A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray" ...on to the end of the song and the completion of the tree stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an on looker, I remember the powerful tenor voice ringing through the cold night. The seashore air was so cold, clean and clear. I half expected it to break and fall to earth in millions of tiny crystals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Christmas trees could think, I'm sure that one would have been very proud, indeed, to end up at Turner's Ranch, serenaded by a magnificent voice, while being fitted for Christmas shoes by a very special cobbler. As I recall, the tree that year seemed to be especially luminescent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8418876221068085310?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8418876221068085310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8418876221068085310' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8418876221068085310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8418876221068085310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/memories-of-ventnor-heights.html' title='Memories of Ventnor Heights'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-9175928937462638781</id><published>2010-01-19T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T07:54:16.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>Do you remember the colored dinner plates you received from the McMahons in Chicago? What was the occasion? I still have two and think they belong to Joe and Bill. Abby and Becca used them last night. These are yellow and red. I told Patty that we've had them "forever!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-9175928937462638781?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/9175928937462638781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=9175928937462638781' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9175928937462638781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9175928937462638781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6549563364689147068</id><published>2010-01-18T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T20:47:41.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And now I'm ...how Old?</title><content type='html'>Lordy, I never thought I would feel so young....haha! My special day started off with a trip to the dentist for a cleaning. I had a turkey breast in the frig and had Patty and the kids over for dinner. Abby baked me a cake so we had our own little party. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wonderful kids, even if one of them claims that I am really 100. I did remind him that if it was true, he would be 70 so he took it back. Two beautiful bouquets grace my tables, cards, telephone calls singing "Happy Birthday" and congratulations galore on Facebook! How lucky can I get?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6549563364689147068?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6549563364689147068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6549563364689147068' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6549563364689147068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6549563364689147068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-now-im-how-old.html' title='And now I&apos;m ...how Old?'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8711831433577120185</id><published>2010-01-15T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T13:45:26.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Seems Like Forever...</title><content type='html'>It seems like forever since I've written. We have been so worried about Emery Jane but now, maybe there's some sunshine ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother's treat to Virgin Gorda (BVI) is in two weeks and I dread packing and all to get there. It becomes harder and harder. I'm only looking at a 3-4 hour flight to San Juan then a smaller plane to Virgin Gorda. I'm traveling with friend Barb, Jeannette &amp; Tom and our cousins, Mike &amp; Sandy Turner. We're meeting the rest of the group in San Juan. But we're surely have sunny weather and I'm packing for same. My luck will be a blizzard and my warmest thing will be a sweatshirt. LOL! Speaking of...I remember one summer driving through Montana (July) and I about froze my butt off. They were predicting snow for the next day so you better believe, I didn't linger. I am not a cold weather person!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8711831433577120185?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8711831433577120185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8711831433577120185' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8711831433577120185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8711831433577120185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-seems-like-forever.html' title='It Seems Like Forever...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7040536270979710091</id><published>2010-01-04T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T07:29:40.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff and Nonsense or Musings on a Monday</title><content type='html'>The pictures above are the Rice kids. I couldn't figure how to insert so be it. I have been having alarm probs and going back and forth with the tech. He is trying to save me money by providing telephone advice to troubleshoot my system. Well, first I didn't know what he was talking about. They call them techs because they speak tech and I speak normal. :) So, in my creative mind, I took a picture of the gizmo and emailed it to them. And now I wait. Second on my list is my malfunctioning garage door. Maybe it's feeling cold and won't open. I called the handyman so waiting for him too. Meanwhile, I think I'll go to the gym and work off my frustrations!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7040536270979710091?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7040536270979710091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7040536270979710091' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7040536270979710091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7040536270979710091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/stuff-and-nonsense-or-musings-on-monday.html' title='Stuff and Nonsense or Musings on a Monday'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4329335537867686772</id><published>2010-01-04T06:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T07:00:07.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICcrz9ukI/AAAAAAAAACg/0XZa04GkMok/s1600-h/Christmas+09+102.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICcrz9ukI/AAAAAAAAACg/0XZa04GkMok/s160/Christmas+09+102.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICdPPtiUI/AAAAAAAAACo/VaGN9PL9d_c/s1600-h/Christmas+09+116.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICdPPtiUI/AAAAAAAAACo/VaGN9PL9d_c/s160/Christmas+09+116.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICddku_7I/AAAAAAAAACw/3XbbrnkTPLE/s1600-h/Christmas+09+113.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICddku_7I/AAAAAAAAACw/3XbbrnkTPLE/s160/Christmas+09+113.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICdld1HVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jCQnzsodgio/s1600-h/Christmas+09+117.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICdld1HVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jCQnzsodgio/s160/Christmas+09+117.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&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/4283388465722031697-4329335537867686772?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4329335537867686772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4329335537867686772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4329335537867686772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4329335537867686772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/S0ICcrz9ukI/AAAAAAAAACg/0XZa04GkMok/s72-c/Christmas+09+102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1000492423757510792</id><published>2009-12-26T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T15:57:02.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate</title><content type='html'>I think I'll go in the Chocolate business! I have oodles of Brownies, Fudge, Chocolate Pretzels, Chocolate mints and Peppermint Bark! I gave some to my neighbors who oohed and aahed to me but wondered what in the heck they're going to do with it after I left. I probably lost some neighbors over it except for the bachelor on the corner who fairly drooled when I presented it to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how much can you eat? Unfortunately on Christmas Eve, I had a good dose of heartburn so now I look at chocolates with a jaundice eye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate goes good with wine, cookies (I have oodles of those also)and crackers.&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate mints taste good in coffee also. I tried it. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anyone out there would like some? How about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1000492423757510792?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1000492423757510792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1000492423757510792' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1000492423757510792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1000492423757510792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/12/chocolate.html' title='Chocolate'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2441854566986505871</id><published>2009-12-23T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T20:00:24.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lazy Woman's Guide to Holiday Festivities</title><content type='html'>#1 - Draw up a list of expectations/jobs for each day.&lt;br /&gt;#2 - Pick up 2 things in the kitchen and move them to the bedroom, the bed is a good place.&lt;br /&gt;#3 - Play a game on the computer.&lt;br /&gt;#4 - Start to decorate the tree.   The kitchen is forgotten for now.&lt;br /&gt;#5 - As the belt has snapped on the vacuum cleaner, a big hope that the guests won't notice that the rug is dirty.&lt;br /&gt;#6 - Bake a cake.  However, the butter needs to soften so read a book for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;#7 - Move some more things to the bedroom as well as the clothes from the dryer.&lt;br /&gt;#8 - Time to eat lunch.&lt;br /&gt;#9 - Telephone a friend.  Now bake the cake and hope it doesn't fall.&lt;br /&gt;#10 - Finish cleaning the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;#11 - Read  mail and open Christmas cards.  Call family.&lt;br /&gt;#12 - Read emails.&lt;br /&gt;#13 - Check the list and see if you can cross off anything!&lt;br /&gt;#14 - Clean off bed so you can get into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Etc, Etc., Etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2441854566986505871?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2441854566986505871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2441854566986505871' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2441854566986505871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2441854566986505871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/12/lazy-womans-guide-to-holiday.html' title='The Lazy Woman&apos;s Guide to Holiday Festivities'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8250886740751927466</id><published>2009-12-19T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T14:31:34.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowbound</title><content type='html'>We're up to eight inches, the first blizzard of the season! I did some more Christmas decorationings but hate it when I can't go out. I'm feeling so trapped so got on the telephone. Called Patty and she is baking cookies. Bill is working in Vineland with ten inches snow there. Hope he decides to stay there overnight but you know these men like "what's a little snow?" and of course, is coming home. Talked to Kristinn and she is also making cookies - maybe this is a hint for me. She said Gabe was collecting ice cycles and getting her to put them in a baggie in the freezer. How cool is that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally saw the Blind Side on Thursday night. It was good! Sandra Bullock does a good job. The book had some other stuff in it not in the movie. Last night, went out for dinner with friends and to another movie called "About the Morgans" or something like that. Not much depth but some funny parts. It's either feast or famine for me.....a lot to do or nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will bake!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8250886740751927466?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8250886740751927466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8250886740751927466' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8250886740751927466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8250886740751927466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/12/snowbound.html' title='Snowbound'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2285101924504060250</id><published>2009-11-21T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T18:22:14.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrapping Gifts and Planet 51</title><content type='html'>Abby, Alex and Becca came over this afternoon to wrap presents for all the little cousins in Texas and Virginia.  Abby &amp; Alex wrapped and Becca taped everything.  So a big job took a short time with everyone helping.  After cookies (mint chocolate oreos - our favorite), we decided to try and find a movie.  Well we did and with a huge bag of popcorn and a large drink to share, spent a couple of hours watching Planet 51. The kids loved it and I got to take short naps.  On leaving, we all had to hit the restroom but as it was crowded, I dropped them off at a restaurant in the area and then, we hastened over to Friendly's for a bite to eat.   They finally made it home around 7:30.  They all gave me hugs and kisses and told me what a great time they had AND when can we do it again!  It was a great day for me as well and look forward to the next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2285101924504060250?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2285101924504060250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2285101924504060250' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2285101924504060250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2285101924504060250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/11/wrapping-gifts-and-planet-51.html' title='Wrapping Gifts and Planet 51'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6855061289387748095</id><published>2009-11-05T13:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:54:32.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Poltergeist is Using my Printer, Oh No!</title><content type='html'>Grandpop always claimed that we had Poltergeists lurking in our house on Trenton Avenue. His one example was about a book that fell from the bookcase. He was in the kitchen drinking coffee and heard a thump. On investigating, found a book on the floor in the middle of the room. The bookcase was back against the wall. So claimed a "mischievous spirit" did the dirty deed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His "friendly spirit" was up to no good and visited me last night. I woke up at 3:30 listening to the printer barfing page after page to the floor. I let it run its course and started collecting seven pages of print - all on Jonas Cattell! So, do you think Jonas is trying to tell us something? Or maybe it was Grandpop, disguised as a Poltergeist encouraging us to continue our research!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6855061289387748095?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6855061289387748095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6855061289387748095' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6855061289387748095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6855061289387748095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/11/poltergeist-is-using-my-printer-oh-no.html' title='A Poltergeist is Using my Printer, Oh No!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2660593314456051072</id><published>2009-10-24T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T09:02:55.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cricks, Cracks and Ouch!</title><content type='html'>It's hell getting old.  Everything  hurts esp. in the morning when you get up gingerly because if you don't, something will crack and sometimes, POP! Then you go over and over and decide just what you won't do next time.  We have a saying, "if it doesn't hurt, it doesn't work!" So look for the golden years ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read in the newspaper this morning that a gentleman of 104 years who still works part time then sails on the river in his down time. I guess that's  the secret of living long and feeling good.  He still drives to his job in Philly.  The Division of Motor Vehicles renewed his license as he passed all the tests for renewal which is awesome, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the sun is out and I'll take my butt out for some walking or something.  Maybe, I'll live 'till 104!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2660593314456051072?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2660593314456051072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2660593314456051072' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2660593314456051072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2660593314456051072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/10/cricks-cracks-and-ouch.html' title='Cricks, Cracks and Ouch!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7904481177447900472</id><published>2009-10-16T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T17:16:11.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>High School Reunion</title><content type='html'>We had our 60th reunion today and I certainly had an awesome time.  Believe it or not, we had 66 classmates attending after all this time.  With spouses and others, the count came to 96 so I think that's pretty good for the class of 1949!  One of the things I noticed was that the GIRLS looked better than the GUYS! LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, we steered away from the speeches and spent quality time with long lost friends exchanging stories and catching up on our lives.  I think the only announcement came from the Wait Staff telling us to take our seat. :) Many people brought old pictures, yearbooks, etc.  All in all, a successful day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7904481177447900472?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7904481177447900472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7904481177447900472' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7904481177447900472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7904481177447900472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/10/high-school-reunion.html' title='High School Reunion'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6517285899821753766</id><published>2009-10-09T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T14:23:03.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Funniest Things</title><content type='html'>Edna was telling me about her 7 year old grandson, Ian.  His parents, Randy and Laurie were asking him if he knew what wonderful thing would come next April?  Ian thought a minute then said, "April Fool's Day and Easter!"  "No," said Randy.  "It's something that has 2 eyes and 2 ears."  "A hamster" guessed Ian excitedly.  I cracked up here.  So they told him and he called Edna and George that he was going to have a little brother. Then he added to Edna "I hope Mommie feels better soon.  She's not been feeling good for 2 months."  Edna reassured him that it would pass.  Later on, they attended his ball game and his grandparents were talking to another woman who thought she had a virus and wasn't feeling good.  Ian piped up "If you keep on feeling sick, it's because you're having a baby.  That just happened to my Mom!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6517285899821753766?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6517285899821753766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6517285899821753766' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6517285899821753766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6517285899821753766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/10/kids-say-funniest-things.html' title='Kids Say the Funniest Things'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2436974270343905187</id><published>2009-10-03T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:32:22.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jackson and Beyond!</title><content type='html'>I couldn't believe the temperatures in Jackson Hole!  I checked the internet before I left and took 2 pairs of cords plus a couple summer slacks.  It would have been better to take all summer clothes but you never know.  The temps were in the 70s and I was in heaven.  On Thursday, Denise cooked all day as they had promised to "cook" for Nicole's team with parents  for Saturday night. She made 5 pans of lasagna, meatballs and gravy along with dozens of Brownies.  I helped some but not much.  We left Jackson early on Friday  and drove 5 hours to Laramie.  Now the altitude in JH is 6100 and I usually have trouble breathing but in Laramie, it was 7100 so of course, I had nose bleeds.  I'm sure I could never live out there.  We stayed with Nicole in her 1-bedroom apartment sleeping every which way.  They lost their game on Friday but won on Sunday.  About 60 people attended the dinner and it was a big hit.  We gave the left-overs to the team as didn't want to cart it back again.  Ellie's Birthday was on Friday and as she and Brooke didn't come with us, we celebrated it on Monday evening.    Brooke was playing Powder Puff football at school and tore her ACL as well.  She will have surgery in a week or so.  Now, both of them have knee braces.  We ate out some and also at home.  I got home on Wednesday afternoon and am just getting back to the swing of things.It seems to take me longer each time.  The old broad is slowing down, I guess.  I have a lot of pictures and have to upload them to here (if I remember how....LOL).  I guess Bonnie told you that she called me and left a message that she received the Pac-n-Play.  I called her back and she talked to Joe and Denise as well. Time for beddy-bye so will talk to you again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2436974270343905187?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2436974270343905187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2436974270343905187' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2436974270343905187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2436974270343905187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/10/jackson-and-beyond.html' title='Jackson and Beyond!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5759133242211242299</id><published>2009-09-08T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T11:45:36.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalViHAgAI/AAAAAAAAACI/SPAr1NZXA70/s1600-h/DSC00521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalViHAgAI/AAAAAAAAACI/SPAr1NZXA70/s160/DSC00521.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalVz5ifkI/AAAAAAAAACQ/iW9VbCxZFiQ/s1600-h/DSC00525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalVz5ifkI/AAAAAAAAACQ/iW9VbCxZFiQ/s160/DSC00525.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalWei9AvI/AAAAAAAAACY/QKeQn9WS2QE/s1600-h/DSC00523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalWei9AvI/AAAAAAAAACY/QKeQn9WS2QE/s160/DSC00523.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both"&gt;Barbara, Bill &amp;amp; I in Greensboro&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /&gt;&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/4283388465722031697-5759133242211242299?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5759133242211242299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5759133242211242299' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5759133242211242299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5759133242211242299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post_08.html' title=''/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqalViHAgAI/AAAAAAAAACI/SPAr1NZXA70/s72-c/DSC00521.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3469186825678268789</id><published>2009-09-08T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T10:53:38.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZtWz-jKI/AAAAAAAAABo/jZC4hsDvRcc/s1600-h/DSC00461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZtWz-jKI/AAAAAAAAABo/jZC4hsDvRcc/s160/DSC00461.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZtq_MWQI/AAAAAAAAABw/4AlIqtaZRik/s1600-h/DSC00462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZtq_MWQI/AAAAAAAAABw/4AlIqtaZRik/s160/DSC00462.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZuN7TQQI/AAAAAAAAAB4/SxobW7AM6LY/s1600-h/DSC00463.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZuN7TQQI/AAAAAAAAAB4/SxobW7AM6LY/s160/DSC00463.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZuoJkHYI/AAAAAAAAACA/CZsUH0GZ_TU/s1600-h/DSC00464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZuoJkHYI/AAAAAAAAACA/CZsUH0GZ_TU/s160/DSC00464.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the storm damage to my house from the summer of 2009.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3469186825678268789?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3469186825678268789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3469186825678268789' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3469186825678268789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3469186825678268789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/SqaZtWz-jKI/AAAAAAAAABo/jZC4hsDvRcc/s72-c/DSC00461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5260252978169007309</id><published>2009-09-06T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T17:51:03.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1968 - McGuire AFB - 2nd Time Around</title><content type='html'>When you finish your stay overseas, you are given a choice for your next base and naturally, we wanted to come back home. However,Verne and Joan Wells and family had orders first. As they flew into McGuire, your grandparents picked them up and they stayed a couple of days in Laurel Springs. There's a couple of pictures floating around somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that you may not recall is that Edna Brown walked Pepper to Frankfurt airport and sent him home in a dog crate. Do you remember the path that led from Gateway Gardens to the airport? And of course, we remember how Pepper arrived with all the wood in his gums, trying to get out of the crate. Poor thing! I remember Dad and Grandpop pulling the slivers out. Pepper must have been scared to death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We soon moved to Falcon Courts North and I know that you remember all of our neighbors! Jim &amp; Ruth Maloney next door had seven kids or did I lose one? We used to play pinochle with them. Jim used to get upset because Ruth &amp; I would chatter all through the game and we would still win. In 1970, she and I worked on the census. I think we were paid about $1600 which came in handy. I also volunteered for the Red Cross. Our job was to visit at Walston Army Hospital and get the patients interested in playing board games or read to them. Then, there was Girl Scouts. Taking the troop to Camp Ockinicken in Medford, we stayed in one of the cabins. It was in March and during the ellipse of the moon and you were all so excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During Air Force Day, the Rice's would congregate at our place and go on base to see the planes, demonstrations, etc. One of these times, Uncle Kirby gave Dad a cat that we named Frisky. Dad never cared for cats period but he loved this one. Frisky was a good "watch" cat too. He prevented a catastrophe when Dad fell asleep on the couch with a cigarette in his hand. Frisky came upstairs and woke me up by walking on my face and meowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey had a newspaper route and he used to throw the papers out of the back of the station wagon. Somehow, I always got involved even though it was his job. I don't think it lasted too long. Do you remember horseback riding with scouts at that farm in the back of housing? We have lots of memories about McGuire, don't we?  You had the Teen Club and who was that guy over at the chapel you called Lord?  Waiting to hear your memories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5260252978169007309?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5260252978169007309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5260252978169007309' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5260252978169007309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5260252978169007309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/09/1966-mcguire-afb-2nd-time-around.html' title='1968 - McGuire AFB - 2nd Time Around'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6529446494502791296</id><published>2009-09-01T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T15:54:42.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Again!</title><content type='html'>Just read every one's blog so will be sure to comment later on. I came home to 103 emails, most of them junk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barb and I flew down to Unc Bill's on Wednesday. We had perfect weather and even US Air (swear) gave us little to gripe about. Donna set me up with her gay guy, Dale to cut and style my hair so I left as an old bag and came home as a warm (hot) woman! Does feel good to have someone fuss over you, doesn't it? We stayed in Greensboro until Friday and then, took off for the house on Lake Norman which is an hour and a half away near Statesville. Their house at the lake is so comfortable - has only 2 bedrooms but is roomy enough. We took a boat ride, tooled around in the golf cart, drank lots of wine, Susan! On Saturday, drove over to another friend's house in the cart with Donna carrying Bill's martini and her wine and Barbara and I in the back with more of the same sloshing all the way. My brother just roars along. Friends are from N.Y. and she is a former teacher. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a house right next door that shaped like a barrel and Powell Seymour (Bill's former partner) owns it. As they were in residence, I asked to see the inside. It's really neat. Consists of 3 floors, each with its own balcony. It has a circular stairway throughout that wouldn't be for me but I liked the concept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, Barb and I tried out the jet ski and I didn't even fall off! Of course, I was behind my brother so that helped. Donna fished all day and didn't catch a thing. We did a lot of reading which is sheer pleasure for me. Anyway, I'm home until the end of the month and then, will be going out to Jackson for some of Nicole's games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6529446494502791296?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6529446494502791296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6529446494502791296' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6529446494502791296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6529446494502791296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/09/home-again.html' title='Home Again!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8661719774988799610</id><published>2009-08-18T13:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T14:36:15.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animals We Grew Up With......</title><content type='html'>As a little girl, we had a gray and white cat called Cappy short for Captain Cook.  Addie must have named him. We had a German Shepard named Butch and a canary called Flicka.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor old Cappy was prone to disaster with fighting squirrels and other cats, chasing birds and returning home with chunks out of his fur. Not having a car, Daddy took him to the vet in a basket on his bicycle and the dumb animal jumped out about a mile from home.  Two weeks later, he came limping in. Whatever was wrong with him medically, he was cured. Guess he had some adventures of his own trying to find his way home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butch lived with us a long time and didn't meet his maker until the late 1950s.  He was a great companion.  I think we got him around the time Bill was born - like every boy should have a dog.  He used to follow us to school  until one of us would turn around and take him home.  Many a time, he followed us into the movies, to the bank and everywhere in town.  Everyone knew him. It was interesting that all the dogs in town were known as Shannon's dog, Pratt's Butch, Colgan's Blackie.  Our dogs, cats, etc. didn't need a license, shots or whatever.  They were just there to love and take care of us.  Mom used to say that if a burglar came to the house, Butch would let him in.  Such a big protector!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flicka was a pretty yellow bird who couldn't sing or talk.  Her life with us was relatively short and one morning, found her dead with her little feet in the air.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had other pets thorugh the years but when people talk about theirs, these are the ones I think of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8661719774988799610?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8661719774988799610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8661719774988799610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8661719774988799610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8661719774988799610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/08/annimals.html' title='Animals We Grew Up With......'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-6767819096675183061</id><published>2009-08-09T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T20:40:38.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Macho Macho Man</title><content type='html'>On Friday morning, four trucks came rolling down my street...a cherry picker, tractor, dump truck and small pick-up truck. All for me and my tree! Five guys - wow! With their itty-bitty tee shirts, jeans, sun glasses, muscles and hard hats and yes, good looking to boot! :O My maple tree was reduced to branches and dust. Interesting now I can see all the way down the street. I shall miss the shade it brings but not the problems it has caused. I think I'll plant a Crepe Myrtle in its place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-6767819096675183061?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/6767819096675183061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=6767819096675183061' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6767819096675183061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/6767819096675183061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/08/macho-macho-man.html' title='Macho Macho Man'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5171011908240827910</id><published>2009-08-08T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T16:15:55.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring Your Lawn Chair...</title><content type='html'>Every Wednesday evening in the summer time, Laurel Springs has a concert at the Walt Whitman Farmhouse. This past Wednesday, a steel band performed. I love Caribbean music..it's such a happy sound. At the intermission, they invited the audience up to the band shell to see and try the instruments. The "drum" guy was from Trinidad and makes his own drums. It was interesting to hear the different sounds made with his sticks or whatever they're called. I asked him if he was familiar with your Drum Cafe experience, Kath and he wasn't although was very interested in the concept. I also was talking to a guy with a "Les Paul" guitar. It was very old and worn but he said that he couldn't refurbish it or it would lose its value.  All in all, a very good evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5171011908240827910?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5171011908240827910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5171011908240827910' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5171011908240827910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5171011908240827910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/08/being-your-lawn-chair.html' title='Bring Your Lawn Chair...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2602592143706685680</id><published>2009-08-07T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T20:19:15.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Family Reunion</title><content type='html'>Some of the cousins decided to have a family get-together as it has been over ten years since the last one. Unfortunately, only four families could make the trip. My cousins, Mike and Sandy along with their children Michael, Chrissy and Stephen and their assorted mates and children. His sister, Ruth and son Tom with June and their children. My sister Jeannette and Tom with four of her children (Pat, Betty, Pam and Cyndy) and my brother Bill and Donna from North Carolina. Bill and Patty came with their four. This year, we went to Bell Haven Campground and rented a pavilion. It started out as a rainy day but soon the sun came out. All of the kids had a ball. Bill rented a 4-seat paddle boat and his girls along with Joey (Pam's son) enjoyed it for awhile. Billy and Stephie (Pam's) had fun just digging in the sand. Good conversation remembering old reunions dominated the day. Uncle Bill took loads of pictures and I have forwarded them to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago when our moms were alive, we had themes. We had Crazy Hats, Miss America and even Limericks. My mother's family side was full of fun but the main characters are gone. Hopefully, we can resurrect some of it and plan for a bigger one next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2602592143706685680?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2602592143706685680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2602592143706685680' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2602592143706685680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2602592143706685680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-family-reunion.html' title='Another Family Reunion'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-745607556364456134</id><published>2009-08-04T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T18:54:44.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trees</title><content type='html'>I always loved trees.  There's something about trees that form an umbrella over you and yours, bring you shade and lovely to look at in their seasonal colors.  Most of the larger ones can be found right here in New Jersey.  One of my pet peeves while living in Abilene was the absence of a decent tree!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my trees - the Maples, Oaks and Spruce scared the living daylights out of me with the last storm/tornado.  Yeah, they waved their branches at me and then, one by one, their branches came crashing down.  Tonight I met with the Expert Tree Man and he will take down two of them and trim the others back.  So what can you do?  Just remember how you enjoyed them on sunny days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-745607556364456134?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/745607556364456134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=745607556364456134' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/745607556364456134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/745607556364456134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/08/trees.html' title='Trees'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2140826939073539886</id><published>2009-07-24T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T13:44:06.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Berchtesgaden, The Salt Mines and Travels</title><content type='html'>And you must remember going to Berchestgaden with Grandmom and Grandpop. I'm not sure if this was before we went to Grandmom's ancestral place, during or later. It seems to me that it was the same trip. Wells were in Berchestgaden the same time and one night we went out for dinner with them. There was an Oompah Band and the group members came out into the audience and got different people to come up and dance. I think Verne Wells was picked. It was hilarious with all the band in lederhosen and the women in their country dresses slapping their thighs and dancing around. I'm thinking that Grandpop was picked too. I recall he was perspiring and laughing. From Berchtesgaden, we went over to Munich and up to Hitler's Retreat at the top of the mountain. Remember the buses that drove up. One would go up and another down. There was just one place that they could pass each other. And we'll never forget the Salt Mines, the train, the sliding board that Grandmom on laughing so hard, wet her pants and wouldn't slide no more. Augsburg, Austria was next and we visited the catacombs under a church. I think we were there just the one day. And finally, we did King Ludwig's Castle, drove through Oberamagau and on to Chiemsee. After we drove back to Rhein Main and a couple days later, we took off again to Belgium and Holland.  In Holland, we visited the Minature Village at the Hague, to Ann Frank's house and to Vollendam where all the residents dressed in their native costumes.  And how about all those windmills?  Do you remember the hotel in Amsterdam where the boys, Dad &amp; Granpop slept in one room and we slept in another and the breakfast was huge with cold cuts, hard boiled eggs and coffee.  We stopped in eat again in Brussels.  I reminded you that I had limited French so should be able to translate to get some food.  We no sooner sat down in the restaurant and the waiter comes over and says "What will it be, folks?" Haha! It seems he had worked on a cruise ship that spent time in New York City.  At that same place, we met that English couple, Elsie &amp; Syd Smith and kept up a correspondce with them for a while.  In fact, I exchanged Silver Dollars for Churchill coins at one time.  Later on, Syd died and Elsie emigrated to Australia with their daughter and I lost touch with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2140826939073539886?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2140826939073539886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2140826939073539886' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2140826939073539886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2140826939073539886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/berchestgaden-salt-mines-and-travels.html' title='Berchtesgaden, The Salt Mines and Travels'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-984002515203782645</id><published>2009-07-21T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T17:38:26.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Unexpected Pleasure</title><content type='html'>Last April I received a reminder from the dentist for a check up.  One thing let to the other and I finally made an appointment.  Only, I didn't go to my regular dentist but chose another.  Bill and Patty had been urging me to go to their dentist and the location was closer to home.  With much dreaded anticipation, I entered the office and was pleasantly surprised.  The hygenist was VERY friendly, VERY gentle and VERY knowledgable. All the equipment was upscale.  Dr. Emily Stein was young (isn't everyone?) but I liked her immediately.  My teeth (what's left of them) were x-rayed, cleaned and examined. All in all, a good experience.  So on the way home, I stopped and treated myself to a Gelati!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-984002515203782645?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/984002515203782645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=984002515203782645' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/984002515203782645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/984002515203782645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/unexpected-pleasure.html' title='An Unexpected Pleasure'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5217528091862026513</id><published>2009-07-19T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T19:56:47.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter Two</title><content type='html'>Before we left for Berlin, Dad cautioned me about a nightclub called "Race's" (Sp.) and of course, I told him that we weren't going on that kind of trip. Our Chaplin, Father Hinckley flew into Templehof and met us at our hotel. The following day, we went to the conference and that afternoon, Father Hinckley informed us that he's going to take us out on the town to this neat nightclub called Race's! Well! What could we say? So we polished ourselves up and went out. Race's was a huge dance hall with the orchestra at one end and water fountains keeping in time with the music. Booths were scattered all around the hall and on tiers so you could look up or down to see other patrons. We were on the first level. In all the booths were telephones and ours rang constantly from other patrons asking us to dance. I did dance with a turbaned fellow and others from all over. It was like the United Nations. Our most popular girl was one who was about 8 months pregnant! I guess she had a glow about her and everyone wanted to share in it. The waiter kept filling our glasses up and when we saw the bill, we realized we were drinking champagne instead of wine. Fr. Hinckley had to bail us out. We finally left there dog-tired and half looped. One of the girls fell up the steps to the hotel and we helped her up laughing all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following day, we took a bus trip to East Berlin. As soon as we got to Checkpoint Charlie, a Russian interpreter/guide got on. Right off, he told us that we couldn't take pictures or he would confiscate our cameras. We were not to speak to any natives or give them any cigarettes. Of course, someone on the bus took pictures anyway and somehow got away with it. There were a lot of pock-marked buildings and hardly anyone on the streets. We were only taken to a park where there was a statue of Mother Russia. I'm sure we saw other sights but they were in controlled areas. We saw a lot of soldiers, jeeps, etc. When we finally got back to the check point, Russian soldiers went over the bottom of the bus with mirrors to make sure no unhappy citizens joined us. Needless to say, we were relieved and happy to get back to the West.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5217528091862026513?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5217528091862026513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5217528091862026513' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5217528091862026513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5217528091862026513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-two.html' title='Chapter Two'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5196506406450214507</id><published>2009-07-15T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T22:35:22.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some More  Memories....</title><content type='html'>Our time at Rhein-Main was to end in 1967 but along with our friends, decided to extend another year. We didn't make anymore major trips but on the weekends, would follow the Special Service Bus to places around the countryside. Taking our lunch, walking in the woods and villages gave us a different slant of country life in a foreign country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember when we went to Heidelberg with the Girl Scouts? Another time to the Capital at Bann? One of my memorable trips involved the Catholic Chaplin. If you recall, Joan Wells and I belonged to the Catholic Women of the Chapel. Our Chaplin heard of a conference in Berlin and thought we would like to go. I think six of us made the trip. Dad took me to Frankfurt to catch the train. While in the train station, I saw some GIs and commented to Dad that one of them looked like a guy we knew from home. Dad poo-pooed it but I went over for a closer look and sure enough I was right so we had a mini-get-together catching up. How cool is that seeing someone from home? We finally boarded the train and it was a "sleeper" with four bunks to a tiny room. Of course, we didn't do much sleeping. In the morning, it was crazy trying to get dressed in this rocking train. Just try putting on panty hose and bumping into each other while doing it! Then, we noticed that the train was slowing down and watched it move to a side track. To our surprise (although it shouldn't have been), Russian soldiers came in and checked our passports. It seemed we were in the East German sector and had to pass through there to West Germany. The soldiers were very polite but it was still intimidating. As this is a long story, I'll continue it in the next chapter. LOL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5196506406450214507?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5196506406450214507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5196506406450214507' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5196506406450214507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5196506406450214507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-more-memories.html' title='Some More  Memories....'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8509521080151916868</id><published>2009-07-07T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T18:55:39.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Empty House</title><content type='html'>Everyone has left me to go home. Wow! It was just tremendous having company, seeing Elle along with Gabe, Sophia and Aidan and of course, Abby Alex, Becca &amp; Bill who I see more. I enjoyed Ocean City with part of my family and would have been in heaven if the rest had shown up. On Sunday, other friends popped in to wish Jane a Happy Birthday. She had a suspicion as we always celebrate her birthday in some fashion. Later on in the week, we celebrated Kristinn's and Rich's. We are definitely into birthdays here. And today, we sent Jane &amp; Rich on their way back to Dutch Harbor. Safe journey, kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening, I joined Patty to see Bill's softball game. It was his last one for the season and I thought I might be his lucky charm but it was not to be. But it was fun and I enjoyed being there. Coming home, I stopped at Rita's Water Ice for a Gelati. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the house is empty and I have to get back in some kind of exercise routine. Before she left, Jane and I walked around town and she took pictures of houses she liked and houses she lived in. But the walking was a slower pace and I really have to start MOVING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8509521080151916868?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8509521080151916868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8509521080151916868' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8509521080151916868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8509521080151916868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/empty-house.html' title='The Empty House'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1213005209662181949</id><published>2009-07-01T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T19:29:39.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then...</title><content type='html'>In 1966, Grandmom and Grandpop came to visit.  We had just purchased a new Nash Rambler station wagon so were all set to go on a road trip.  Grandmom wanted to visit her grandparents' birth place in Marienweiher, Germany.  After much researching as it was a small village, we found it on a Deutsch road map.  A friend of Joe's, Rob (Mike) Michauk came with us.  He was born in Hamburg and his family came to the states when he was a little boy so was fluent in German.  Dad had to get clearance as it was just 5 kilometers from the East German border.  The scenery was breathtaking.  We drove over this hill and looking down saw the village sitting there between the hills.  The odd thing about it was that I had in my possession a &lt;br /&gt;postcard with a picture of it that was sent from one brother to the other and dated 1907 and the oddity was that the village looked just the same.  It gave me goose bumps.  Marienweiher is a farming community with the pigs and geese walking through.  When we drove down, the men of Marien. came over and admired the car, wanting to look at the engine, etc.  We felt like celebrities. I guess you just didn't see  many new cars around there.  Mike located a Max Ott who owned a gasthause and even though it was past lunch, fixed us some bratwurst,bread and of course, beer.  Through interpretation, we learned that he was related to Grandmom Brumbach (Zaph) and there was just one other brother who was ill and lived in another area.  There is a story about the town and its name but I won't go into it now.  We were shown the family homestead, the grave of the first Brumbach who was also mayor of the town and the church.  It was a wonderful day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1213005209662181949?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1213005209662181949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1213005209662181949' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1213005209662181949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1213005209662181949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-then.html' title='And Then...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8027231224662717286</id><published>2009-06-30T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T16:02:32.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Life as We Knew It!</title><content type='html'>As a Flight Mechanic on a C-130, Dad flew with the same crew and all became friends. Major Bill Price was the Flt. Commander, Capt. Holland, navigator; Capt. Bob Appleby, navigator and Dad. There may have been others but these are the ones I remember best. I'm not even sure about the name - Holland but something like that. Bob Appleby, when not working/flying could be found at the Officer's Club on base. He was always getting into trouble. Do you remember how the housing was on one side of the runway and the base on the other? A slightly inebriated Bob called Joe one night to come and get him. It seems he was stopped by the Air Police for "running into the landing lights" at the end of the runway. Another time, he rang our bell at 2am and wanted to stash an Octoberfest Sign that was outside the club. I think we had it in back of our bed for a couple of weeks. You would wake up and see these buxom ladies holding 3 glasses of beer and cheering! Not a pretty sight first thing in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Willie Shaver was in a different squadron than we were. His first name was Columbus and all the guys called him Chris. One day, they took another guy's Volkswagen Beetle and carried it across the railroad tracks, Willie laughed &amp; laughed telling us about it. The guy couldn't understand how his car got from here to there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim Alexander had a wooden leg. He was in a motorcycle accident early in the service but convinced the A.F. that he could do his job. He was a plane mechanic and would climb all over to get the job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our social life consisted of bowling in the Mixed Doubles, going to the club for dinner and dancing, taking short road trips around the area and house parties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We girls had home parties too: crystal, china &amp; Hummel figurines. A lot of us brought Hummels home. Funny, the German people did not consider them an expensive item and you might find them in a store such as K-Mart but of course, we loved them. Clocks of every type were popular as well as paintings and beer steins. Dad flew all over to Thailand, Greece, Okinawa and always brought back souvenirs. A couple of us were involved with scouting and we held Day Camp in the summer within the base.  The base provided us with tents, fresh water and all kinds of supplies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annually, the squadron held a picnic.  As there wasn't any grills, the guys dug pits and brought in spring cots to use and it worked great.  Nothing like being creative!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spring time like all famiies everywhere, we were over the ball field cheering the kids on.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8027231224662717286?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8027231224662717286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8027231224662717286' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8027231224662717286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8027231224662717286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-life-as-we-knew-it.html' title='Our Life as We Knew It!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7509153772438080899</id><published>2009-06-24T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T21:45:07.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 60s and Base Housing......</title><content type='html'>We stayed in Langen about eighteen months then moved to Gateway Gardens on the base. The building was made up of six apartments with a stairwell in the middle. On the lower level was another apartment. Ours was on the first floor and quite nice with three bedrooms. I remember going to this huge warehouse and picking out furniture for it. And, how about the television that only had German programs? We watched Bonanza with all of the characters speaking Deutsch. The Browns lived on the second floor during our years there and we enjoyed their friendship. Above us at one time, a family of four boys roller-skated across their bare floors and became a nuisance. But we all survived and later on, they got transferred. At Gateway Gardens, Bill started kindergarten and was a reluctant student. It took him an hour to walk three blocks as he would stop to play, get dirty and come back home with some excuse why he couldn't go that day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Air Force had its rules too; one being that we couldn't wear mini-skirts to the commissary or other base facilities, another: "no stretch pants" - the kind with the strap under your foot. I guess they thought we would incite a riot among the single airmen. If you were caught, they would give your husband some kind of reprimand that went into his record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At G.G., I learned to play pinochle. Eight of us would get together on Monday nights at each others' house. I made many friends there as Wells moved on base along with the Alexanders. We had a lot of house parties or gatherings. Our children were all around the same age. Another family who still lived "on the economy" were the Shavers - Carolyn, Willie and their four girls. They lived on a second floor apartment in a village about thirty minutes from the base. We would all go out there and attend the fests in the village which were held quite often and proved to be a lot of fun esp. with the Oompah bands. Another time, the guys helped Willie move a piano up to their floor. They finally accomplished this with the help of a case of beer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carolyn, Edna Brown and I were all Girl Scout leaders and took part in many events going on in Germany. Carolyn and I attended a big conference in Garmisch for four days. C. had been learning German but was very limited. However, we muddled along. She used to say that the only thing she could remember was "are you going to wash your clothes on Monday or Tuesday?" And that didn't get us very far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7509153772438080899?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7509153772438080899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7509153772438080899' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7509153772438080899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7509153772438080899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/06/60s-and-base-housing.html' title='The 60s and Base Housing......'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8674894958353304395</id><published>2009-06-06T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T15:27:33.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rhein Main, Germany</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned in early 1964, Dad received orders for Germany. We were excited as well as apprehensive to be going so far away. Do you remember all of the "shots" we had to get? Billy caused a riot by kicking the needle out of the medic's hand. After packing our Hold baggage and the moving truck left, we headed for Grandmom's house in New Jersey. Dad stayed with us for a couple weeks and then left for Rhein Main. We stayed with your grandparents until late September. While there, we visited Joan Stone (our neighbor in Lake Charles) who was based at Westover A.F. Base in Massachusetts. We stayed with her a week and gave grandmom a much needed break. I remember Joan had a Volkswagen and we crammed everyone in - that was eleven of us. In the beginning of September, you went to Laurel Springs school for about three weeks and then we left for Germany. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first home was in Langen about twenty minutes from the base. We rented a second floor apartment from Fritz &amp; Anna Werner. It was a big airy apartment with three bedrooms. In about three months, our small amount of furniture came in. Fritz went into shock when he saw our huge refrigerator. He had a small one that went under the cabinet. However, his family really loved us and went out of their way to make us welcome. There was Lisalotta and their dog, Barry as well. Later on, a Greek couple moved into the basement apartment. Prior to that, Anna had a little store set up with treats you could buy. Another family, George &amp; Darlene Keeney moved a couple of doors away and Benders next door so we were becoming an American-Deutsch Street. One of the things I recall was the Soccer tournaments down the street. I'm sorry I never attended. We did most of our socializing with other couples in the Air Force. Another thing that amazed me was the number of bicycles on the street. You would see Grandmoms peddling along the street with sacks of groceries in their baskets. While living in Langen, we met Joan and Vern Wells and their two boys - Curt and David. I think this chapter is going to be long so will stop for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8674894958353304395?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8674894958353304395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8674894958353304395' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8674894958353304395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8674894958353304395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/06/rhein-main-germany.html' title='Rhein Main, Germany'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-260991949673444899</id><published>2009-05-21T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T16:18:16.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And on to Georgia!</title><content type='html'>We spent just two years in Lake Charles and were transferred to Robins A.F. Base in Warner Robins, GA. I had been denying but was pregnant with #4. It seems like my 20s were spent being in that condition. Arriving in W-R, we had to take an apartment in a row house for about three months and then moved to a duplex on Whitehead Circle. It was all base housing. The concrete row house was damp and crowded as the rooms were small. The house on Whitehead Circle was pure bliss. We were situated at the top of the circle and had a huge yard for the kids to play in. Joey was just three years old and loved to wander around the yards and turn on every sprinkler, much to the dismay of the neighbors who left their car windows open. We had a family of nine children living in the next house. He was a Secretary for AA and his telephone number was one digit off from mine so can you just imagine how many "drunks" would mis-dial and call me. Needless to say, we got an unlisted number. It was here that Aunt Liz and Uncle Ben came to see us for a couple of days and ended up staying a week. We had such a great time! They were on their way home from a vacation in the Caribbean and stopped in. Guess everyone drove then. Bill was born in September so now we are a family of two &amp; two! I think we finally figured out what was causing all of these pregnancies! LOL! During the second summer, Dad brought home a "retired" 20-man life raft and "blew it up" with the vacuum cleaner. It made a great swimming pool for kids. The big family next store moved away and Hourihan's moved in. Do you remember the baby alligator they had? Their kids were Corky and David. I think after work, their dad was a boy scout leader so was always thinking of fun things to do. The early 60s also brought John F. Kennedy's assassination. I was housecleaning when it came over the television. Horrible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in W-R until 1964. And then, went on to Rhein Main, Germany. What do you remember about W-R?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-260991949673444899?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/260991949673444899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=260991949673444899' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/260991949673444899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/260991949673444899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-on-to-georgia.html' title='And on to Georgia!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1100653104119881165</id><published>2009-05-18T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T12:50:05.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Short Vacation with Friendly Folks</title><content type='html'>At Last!  We got away for 3 days to my very special B&amp;B in the Poconos Mountains of Pennsylvania, Cranberry Manor.  There were five of us "girls" --we'll always be girls! Aunt(s) Jeannette &amp; Mary, Maggie, Shirley and me. After borrowing Bill's GPS, we managed to get there without getting lost.  Jeannette was my navigator and was a big help.   Once we left the turnpike, we drove through quaint villages, up and down hilly roads and saw lots of guys on John Deere tractors....hmm! We arrived at our destination around 3:30PM on Friday and were greeted with the smiling faces of our hosts, Sharon &amp; Ric.  (Bill and Patty were there the previous week and were told that "we" liven-up the place when we come...haha)! There are five guest rooms and all were filled for the weekend so we couldn't get in too much trouble.  Maggie had brought tiny little water pistols so we hammered Jeannette and Shirley a bit.  Barbara, another friend was on our floor as well so made for fun and games.  On Friday evening we attended a Murder Mystery dinner and enjoyed that.  Maggie, Barbara and Jeannette all had parts so made it more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning, Sharon prepared sliced bananas with carmel sauce, banana &amp; nut muffins and mandarin orange upside-down pancake with sausage.  Yum!  But too much for me along with lots of coffee, cranberry (their own) and orange juice.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, we went into Stroudsburg for our annual spa treatment....facials and massages - sure felt g r e a t!!!  Saturday night, ate local and Sunday morning, Sharon made grilled pears with cinnamon, a coffee cake with oranges, cranberries,  etc and an omelet with grilled slices of tomatoes sprinkled with cheese.  I swear once you eat breakfast there, you're not hungry until dinner time.  Ric had to show us his Cruzin Cooler which is basically a cooler on wheels with handlebars and a small motor.  Aunt Mary had to try it out, of course! We finally headed out for home stopping at various flea markets and antique stores.  All in all, a successful weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1100653104119881165?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1100653104119881165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1100653104119881165' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1100653104119881165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1100653104119881165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/05/short-vacation-with-friendly-folks.html' title='A Short Vacation with Friendly Folks'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8379545476679951038</id><published>2009-05-12T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T20:45:53.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And then, we moved......</title><content type='html'>After two years, Dad got orders for Robins A.F. Base in Warner Robins, Georgia. We moved in June and Bill was born in September.  This was  Our 1st house was a row-house where we stayed for three  months until we got into base housing.  Lived in a nice brick duplex on Whitehead Circle.  We were located at the top of the circle.  Bill was born in September&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8379545476679951038?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8379545476679951038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8379545476679951038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8379545476679951038'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8718801287503091904</id><published>2009-04-29T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:49:51.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Louie</title><content type='html'>I can't remember how he came into our lives. He probably was a stray and just hung around or maybe Dad brought him home.  He was a black rather long-haired mongrel part friendly and part smart.  He knew he found a family finally.  Kathi officially adopted him as hers.  Louie was named for Louisiana and shortened because of his sex. He knew how to drag the trash out of the can and hurl it all over the kitchen. Not very smart, I guess.  He was also known to get car sick and proved it by barfing all over Dad's neck when traveling to N.J. for vacation. He hated to be wrong and slunk around until he was forgiven. We "snuck" him into motels with "no dogs allowed" signs and fed him out of can lids. Louie taught us to love everybody and just a pat on the head would make him happy. He was loval and loved us.  Getting orders for Germany, he spent his remaining years with Aunt Liz in N.J.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8718801287503091904?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8718801287503091904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8718801287503091904' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8718801287503091904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8718801287503091904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/04/lessons-we-learned-from-louie.html' title='Louie'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8480072376628078018</id><published>2009-04-25T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T13:31:06.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bronchitis - My Annual Affinity</title><content type='html'>I thought I had escaped it this year as I got past February and March without a whiff!  But not to be!  The onset was Monday last and I'm still working with/on it.  Except for the incessant coughing, I'm in good shape.  And this is why I haven't been blogging!  This too will pass!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8480072376628078018?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8480072376628078018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8480072376628078018' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8480072376628078018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8480072376628078018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/04/bronchitis-my-annual-affinity.html' title='Bronchitis - My Annual Affinity'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3858009442446244548</id><published>2009-04-12T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T09:32:14.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lake Charles, Louisiana</title><content type='html'>In late summer of 1958, we drove down to Lake Charles, La. Chennault AFB was a SAC base. The ride had to be somewhat hectic with 2 little girls and an infant. In route, we stopped in Tuscaloosa, Alabama for the night. We usually tried to stop at places that had a restaurant close by. Kath, this is the place that you made the big hit with the owners. He was the coach for the Crimson Tide - Bear Bryant. For the uninformed, we checked in the motel and went to eat late in the evening. There were only a few people there. When our dinners were served, the chef had put parsley on our plates for decoration and Kathi in her 3 year old voice said, "Someone put grass on my plate, me don't like grass!" There was a pregnant silence then customers started to giggle. When we were leaving, the owner came out and asked what little girl didn't like grass? We were somewhat embarrassed but he made things easy for us, walking back to our room with you on his shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lake Charles was so different from New Jersey. We weren't used to the bugs, roaches, snakes, water bugs, etc. and the heat! When we first arrived, the base provided a temporary rental. Dad went to the Red Cross to borrow money until our finances got straightened out in two weeks time. Unfortunately, the R.C. started hassling us for the $100 even though they were agreeable for the time limit. Since that experience, we always looked the R.C. with a jaundiced eye. Within our agreed time, we repaid the loan and and rented a 2-bedroom house about a mile from the base. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first friends were Joan &amp; Bob Stone and Larry &amp; Mary Homan who lived next door. Mary and I would plan a lot of things together as she had 3 little girls who were pretty much the same age as you. But I'm getting ahead of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The telephone number assigned to me must have belonged to a fish market before as one day I received a call from a restaurant ordering a list of seafood/fish and I started to interrupt like "wrong number" and he said something to the effect that I could talk when he finished......I did...he hung up! As Dad was still in food service, Mary and I got to know all of the butchers and guys in the commissary so they would point out the better cuts of meat and lower the price somewhat at check out which was great on our limited income. Dad was a Staff Sargent and Larry was an Airman 1st Class. Another time, we were on our way to the base in Mary's Volkswagen when the gas pedal got stuck and we whizzed through the base gate with the Air Police just looking at us. Funny the things you remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3858009442446244548?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3858009442446244548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3858009442446244548' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3858009442446244548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3858009442446244548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/04/lake-charles-louisiana.html' title='Lake Charles, Louisiana'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-5972855822186040493</id><published>2009-04-08T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T10:53:21.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comedy Hour(s)</title><content type='html'>A good friend had won tickets for a show and invited me. She asked if I had a rain coat or poncho and if so to bring it. Did you ever hear of Gallagher? He's been around since the 70s but I never heard of him. I was mystified re the rain gear and noticed that the theater ushers were giving out ponchos to the people who were seated in the first 10 rows. As we were further up, we didn't need them. Gallagher started out by running up and down the aisles throwing Easter candy to the audience. He reminded me of a guy who was stuck in the 60s with longish gray hair and bald on top. He talked about getting old, politicians, the way kids dress, and all the things that is happening today. It was so funny the way he explained it. I usually am amused but found myself laughing uncontrollably. On the stage, he had all kinds of food like slices of watermelon, pumpkin, cabbage, cottage cheese etc. and while talking to us, he would make all kinds of pies in those aluminum pans and place them on the stage. He kept up his repertoire for 21/2 hours without a break. The last half hour, he had about 6 kids come up on the stage. Putting the pies on a table, he gave them a sledgehammer, directions for the best effect  and they smashed the pies! Most slop, pieces went into the audience so the rain gear. It was gross and hilarious at the same time. Regardless, I enjoyed myself but was glad that I wasn't sitting in a  lower seat.  Interesting to see that some people were dressed up in  costumes.  Reminded me of Jimmy Buffett's Parrot Heads.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way,  Netflix has him on a DVD so I sent for one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-5972855822186040493?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/5972855822186040493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=5972855822186040493' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5972855822186040493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/5972855822186040493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/04/comedy-hours.html' title='Comedy Hour(s)'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3034346961345021554</id><published>2009-04-06T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:44:38.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Counting the Days...</title><content type='html'>For warm and sunny days&lt;br /&gt;Until June when my kiddies come in for the Jersey shore&lt;br /&gt;For the time I will be slim and trim&lt;br /&gt;Until my next 39th birthday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I am counting the books I have read this year.  The count is up to 23!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is impossible.  All is doable, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you "counting" for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3034346961345021554?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3034346961345021554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3034346961345021554' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3034346961345021554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3034346961345021554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-counting-days.html' title='I&apos;m Counting the Days...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-651927139560304198</id><published>2009-03-30T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:10:43.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired Old Ass!</title><content type='html'>I have always like showers vs. baths but I discovered a product I love and aptly named "Tired Old Ass" Bath Soak. So when I wake up all achy and stiff, I head for the bathtub for my TOA soak. It positively rejuvenates me. It's made up of a blend of salts high in iron along with oils of rosemary, eucalyptus, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My discovery took place in Vermont at the Country Store so I checked the label and now buy it direct from the manufacture and it's less expensive. So if you're run down from too much mental stress and/or physical activity, get yourself some Tired Old Ass! You'll be glad you did. Check out: www.LittleMoonEssentials.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound like an advertisement!  LOL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-651927139560304198?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/651927139560304198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=651927139560304198' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/651927139560304198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/651927139560304198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/tired-old-ass.html' title='Tired Old Ass!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8545749255499186612</id><published>2009-03-29T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:25:30.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Story...</title><content type='html'>When Kathy was almost 2 yrs. old, we moved to the 2nd floor apartment in Westmont. Dad started moonlighting - getting a second job bar-tending at a club in Lindenwold. So he would work at the base during the week and on Friday and Saturday nights, work at the club. The problem was that all of his old friends were not married yet and wanted him to go out after work. That went over like a lead balloon, believe me! In all fairness though, he was so bushed after working as well as driving to the base, that he made a good case for himself and got out of it mostly. At least, that's what was told to me. I could kill his so called friends. Sometime, I would go out and sit at the bar until he got off. We got to know the owners well (their last name was Papp) and periodically, I worked in the coat room for tips. We usually asked Mary Jane to babysit the two of you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathy, you used to crawl on your stomach like a commando. Your sister, Jane never crawled at all. She started standing at 8 months and walking at 9 months. We used to watch you, Jane walk right under the table without hitting your head. It took your sister only 12 months to walk. You both stayed in cribs until almost 3 yrs when I decided you needed a bed to sleep in. We found a second-hand one that was advertised in the paper so bought that as well as a small rocking chair for $25. Grandmom went with me to look at the stuff. A lady was moving to an apartment and didn't have room for all her things. I think Grandmom paid just $2.50 for the rocker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time, Grandmom came down with cancer in her thyroid gland. &lt;br /&gt;She was only 58 years old and we were really worried. I was also pregnant and nearing my time when we found out. Grandpop told us as G'mom didn't want to worry us. She went through surgery and recovered in time but it was our first scare with anything like that. As the Military Champus program had just started that allowed babies to be born at civilian hospitals, Joe was born at Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital on the outskirts of Camden. He cost us a big 25 dollars so was more expensive than both of you. He was also born with a right club foot and when only 2 days old, had a cast put on from his knee to his toes. Every Monday, I had to take him to the doctor who removed the cast, exercised his leg and put another on. If you remember, Grandpop also had a club foot. I wasn't too worried as Grandpop's foot turned out okay. When he was 6 months old, we were transferred to Lake Charles, Louisiana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8545749255499186612?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8545749255499186612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8545749255499186612' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8545749255499186612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8545749255499186612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-to-story.html' title='Back to the Story...'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4567953843222531644</id><published>2009-03-25T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T07:50:32.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/ScpEttkY3VI/AAAAAAAAABA/YEme83h-pXI/s1600-h/DSC00089.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/ScpEttkY3VI/AAAAAAAAABA/YEme83h-pXI/s160/DSC00089.jpg' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:RIGHT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&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/4283388465722031697-4567953843222531644?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4567953843222531644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4567953843222531644' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4567953843222531644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4567953843222531644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/ScpEttkY3VI/AAAAAAAAABA/YEme83h-pXI/s72-c/DSC00089.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1804465945728604375</id><published>2009-03-23T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T07:50:04.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life as it is!</title><content type='html'>Retiremennt isn't all that it's cracked up to be - yet we all desire it.  You gotta  have a plan or schedule.  You just can't afford to let your life drift slowly by when the highlights of the day are eating, errands and TV.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a list.  Sometimes, I  can't read  my writing as I jot down things whenever the idea hits me. Then I spend another 20 minutes trying to decipher my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procrastination is another part of retirement.   No deadlines now and you know you'll get it done sometime.   So all of you who are still out there working your butts off, remember to have a PLAN for that day when you can stay home, read lots of wonderful books, eat, exercise once in a while, watch TV and make lists!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1804465945728604375?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1804465945728604375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1804465945728604375' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1804465945728604375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1804465945728604375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-life-as-it-is.html' title='My Life as it is!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-9211610646324021158</id><published>2009-03-10T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T19:07:59.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tribute to my Sister, Addie!</title><content type='html'>Today, in the mail, I received a small book from my sister's friend, Margaret White. Margaret was Addie's dear friend from their teaching days. The dedication of the book was to my sister. I was in tears reading the inscription.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never called her Addie, it was always Adeline. She was my older sibling with 17 months between us. Growing up, she was always the Boss and demanding that Jeannette and I do as she wanted. She was the boldest of us and the most adventuresome doing things we only thought about e.g. sleeping on the roof, hiding from relatives, etc. She could tell a good story and we were enthralled by her descriptions. She could take a single sentence and make it the most interesting thing we ever heard. Looking back I think she must have gotten this gift from Dad who was a fascinating story teller as well. Like the rest of us, she loved to read and always had a book close by. Her temper got her into trouble, mainly with Mom. We argued and fought like all kids have done forever. One time while we were doing dishes, she threw the coffee pot at me. I ducked and it went through the china closet breaking the glass. I got in trouble for ducking! However, when our brother Bill arrived, she was 14 and took care of him when Mom was working and was a good substitute mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school, she played Guard on the Girls Basketball Team. After high school, she went on to Trenton State College and became a teacher. Her degree was in Physical Education, probably called something else now. Being athletic, she played Lacrosse, Soccer and Field Hockey and played on many club teams in New Jersey.&lt;br /&gt;After teaching locally for 2 years, she applied for a position in Bremerton, Washington. Our parents were devastated that she was moving so far away. (I had already married and was living in Louisiana). While there, she met her future husband Bob Hause, a fellow teacher. She married at home the following June and relocated back to Port Angeles,WA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addie and Bob have one son, Rob who now lives in Seattle, She taught Phys Ed for a number of years then English. Sometime during teaching, she went back to school earning her Masters degree in Psychology. Addie and Bob had many friends in their area. I talked with her periodically but didn't see her very often so we never developed a close relationship which I regret. In 1993, Addie died of cancer; she was only 64 years old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-9211610646324021158?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/9211610646324021158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=9211610646324021158' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9211610646324021158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/9211610646324021158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/tribute-to-my-sister-addie.html' title='Tribute to my Sister, Addie!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7613652674437623014</id><published>2009-03-06T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T06:22:25.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to NJ  and Another Baby on the Way</title><content type='html'>In early February, the Red Cross got in touch with us that Joe's Dad had died so they sent us home.  I never knew my father-in-law well.  I met him when we were engaged and at our wedding.  He was 55 when your father was born. We were scheduled to return to the states in June anyway so just came sooner.  On arriving, we stayed with Grandmom and Grandpop until we found a place of our own.  Joe was stationed at McGuire AFB.  Shortly after, I found out that I was pregnant with number two, Kathleen Anne - another favorite name.  I was surprised as I still nursed Jane.  At that time, we were told that you couldn't get pregnant if you were nursing.  Wrong!  We rented a house in Browns Mills for about three months to be closer to the base.  Then we moved to an apartment in Laurel Springs and finally to an apartment in Westmont where we stayed until we were transferred again.  In Westmont, we  met Bill and Floss Knapp with their children Billy and Donna who lived across the street.  But I am getting ahead of myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had gone out with Uncle Kirby and Aunt Em when I started having cramps.  At this time, we lived in Laurel Sprimgs.  Uncle Kirby was kidding  me saying things like "This is it, you're gonna have the baby today," etc.  Dad and I came home and later went to the movies to see some film with John Wayne.  When we got home, I was in a pretty lot of pain so took Jane over to Grandmom's house and started for the base that was 27 miles away.  Dad was so nervous and kept asking me about the intervals between pains so lied to reassure him.  Needless to say, your delivery came in four hours so cut Jane's time in half.  I stayed in Ft. Dix hospital just two days and came home.  Two babies in diapers!  What fun!  You were a serene baby though and always smiling. You only had fuzz on your head and I used to tape bows on your head to show that you were a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7613652674437623014?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7613652674437623014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7613652674437623014' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7613652674437623014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7613652674437623014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-to-nj-and-another-baby-on.html' title='Back to NJ  and Another Baby on the Way'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7353222047200513209</id><published>2009-03-04T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T10:21:59.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aspiration vs. Inspiration</title><content type='html'>Can you aspire before being inspired?  Can you have one without the other?  That is Wednesday's question. Give me your happy thoughts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7353222047200513209?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7353222047200513209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7353222047200513209' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7353222047200513209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7353222047200513209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/03/aspiration-vs-inspiration.html' title='Aspiration vs. Inspiration'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7824146307595633898</id><published>2009-02-27T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T14:07:00.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And then...........</title><content type='html'>Finally, we arrived back home in Chaumont.  Conrads were ecstatic along with Goldia and Earl McCoy who were our closest friends.  You had many visitors, all wanting to hold you.  As I may have said previously, Dad and I were the youngest parents in the squadron.  So babies were a novelty.  McCoy's youngest was ten, Conrad's Arlette was ten or so too.  As you grew Jane,  Grandmere Conrad wanted to feed you nothing but milk for the first year and balked when I gave you baby food.  (She said food was bad for your digestive system).  Once or twice, I would run out to the base, leave some food for you and she  told me that you didn't like it.  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Dad went to work, Claudie would invite me over for lunch which was their main meal.  They said that I  needed good food and wine so I would have lots of milk for you.  They actually spoiled me by eating with them daily. Grandmere knitted you a vest to keep you warm and I kept it for the longest time.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evenings, we drove to friend's homes for dinner and cards.  We played a lot of poker those days.  We would prop you up in all the coats on the bed and you slept through it.  One night, while coming home, Dad had to stop and take a leak so we stopped by the side of the road (men are so lucky, aren't they?)  There was a shout!  I jumped out of the car and Dad had fallen into a gully.  There weren't any street lights out in the country so you took your chances.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7824146307595633898?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7824146307595633898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7824146307595633898' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7824146307595633898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7824146307595633898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-then.html' title='And then...........'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-3348251791722075865</id><published>2009-02-20T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T17:31:46.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Manatees, Bottle-nosed Dolphins &amp; Alligators - Oh No!</title><content type='html'>Had a great trip. Floss, my friend met us at the airport. It's so much fun catching up and remembering old times together. Her house is so nice with high ceilings and openness that you only see in Florida. We went to see the manatees at the electric power company about an hour away. They like the warm water there. The days were warm and sunny. I could get used to that. We stayed with her for two nights and then took off for Jeannette's friend in Northport. The following day, we met our brother in Ft. Myers and headed down to Naples another couple hours south. He and his wife, Donna live on a golf course in a gated community. It's very beautiful with lots of trees and foliage. One day we took a sail on a large catamaran that was fantastic especially when they hoisted the sails by hand. We visited the Everglades and saw lots of nasty alligators sunning themselves by the roads...ugh! In the national park, we saw the dolphins, all kinds of birds and sea life. We ate out a lot, took mile walks in the mornings, tried to get sunburned (didn't work) and just loafed around. I showed Bill our blogs and he said that he always wanted to write and will name his Bill's Martini or some such.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-3348251791722075865?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/3348251791722075865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=3348251791722075865' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3348251791722075865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/3348251791722075865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/02/manatees-bottle-nosed-dolphins.html' title='Manatees, Bottle-nosed Dolphins &amp; Alligators - Oh No!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-294580979640485795</id><published>2009-02-10T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T12:46:30.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings - Taking Another Sentimental Journey</title><content type='html'>It is my plan for 2009 to reconnect with friends.  Tomorrow, I leave for Tampa, Fl. to see an old friend who lived across the street from me way back in the 50s.  We kept up our correspondence through the years and I would see her periodically but this is the first time I have gone to see her.  Florence (Floss) is a very talented woman.  She taught me so many things when our children were small.  We did a lot of crafts then and often found ourselves at the Farmer's market looking for bargains and eating ice cream. One such time, Kathy lost her shoe.  She was only two and kept tugging on my hand to tell me.  I finally noticed her limping and realized what happened.  Retracing our steps, we found that some kind person had put it on a shelf. What a relief I could just see it mashed and dirty. We laughed alot about it.  Living in Westmont when Dad was stationed at McGuire, we found many things to keep us occupied both physically and mentally.  Along this travel, my plans include friends in Port Charlotte. And finally, to my  brother's in Naples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if we ever outgrow our friends?  There are little pieces in your heart/life that belong just to them.  So I guess I answered my own question, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-294580979640485795?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/294580979640485795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=294580979640485795' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/294580979640485795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/294580979640485795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/02/musings-taking-another-sentimental.html' title='Musings - Taking Another Sentimental Journey'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8556562896441378977</id><published>2009-02-04T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T06:03:26.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jane Marie is here!</title><content type='html'>We were so excited to have my pregnancy confirmed.  We had been married for nine months and wondering if I would ever get pregnant.  It was a very happy time.  Everyone got involved, gave me all kinds of advice and literally took care that I ate the right sort of food, etc. The Conrads were ecstatic but aghast when I told them that I had to go to Germany to have the baby.  We talked and talked of names...big decision.  One evening, Joe said "let's name a girl after my mother" and that's what we did.  A boy would be named after him although he preferred to name him after Grandpop but that's another time.  Jane, I flew  to Wiesbaden, Germany two weeks before you were due. Chaumont did not have a hospital so all of the pregnant ladies got to fly in some sort of air force cargo plane.  What great cargo, huh? We checked in at a hotel that costs me twenty-five cents a day.  This was during the occupation of Germany and of course, we were in the American zone. We were scheduled to see the doctor a day after we arrived.  I was told that first pregnancies usually went full time so figured I was there for the long haul.  Looking back,  I remember all of those "fat" ladies at the hotel.  I had gained twenty-three pounds but still didn't look that big.  Three days after I arrived, I started cramping and they insisted I go in. I got to ride in a cadillac ambulance to the hospital.  LOL!  My first cadillac!  Well, I probably went in too early but the nurses kept me.  I remember women who seemed to be in great pain and here I  was reading a magazine thinking that this isn't so bad.  Clueless!  Then a couple  more hours, my tune changed.   Needless to say, you were born at 2AM after twelve hours. You weighed 5lb 8oz., 18 inches long. Such a tiny little girl.  Dad finally arrived driving eight hours from France.  He was so happy that you were here...such a proud papa!  I stayed in the hospital three days and then we left for the long trip back to France.  Before we left there, we had to stop at the American Embassy to add you to my passport.  Wiesbaden gave you an American birth certificate and also a German one. Do you still have it? The ride back to Chaumont was tortuous. My butt was killing  me and I couldn't get comfortable. You were good and slept all the way.  I'll continue this later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8556562896441378977?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8556562896441378977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8556562896441378977' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8556562896441378977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8556562896441378977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/02/jane-marie-is-here.html' title='Jane Marie is here!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-1258439206219203494</id><published>2009-01-31T06:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T07:39:31.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Autograph Books and Games</title><content type='html'>Autograph books were a big thing in grammer school.  All of the kids had them but  mainly girls.  Some of the sayings that were written in mine were:  Yours till I D K!  My heart (a drawing of a heart) pants (a drawing)4 U!  And my all time favorite was Yours till the ocean wears pants to keep its bottom dry! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School games were: Pile on Lumber, Hop-scotch, Tag, Red Rover and Drop the hankerchief.  Jumping rope was very popular along with Double Dutch using 2 ropes and then we had singing games that went along with the jumping.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home on Trenton Avenue, we played games outdoors until it got dark. The street was full of kids and Berger's house next door was our meeting place.  Catherine Berger was our natural leader.  She was about six years older than me.  We played Lay-Low Sheepie, Kick the Can, Wire ball, Step ball and some of the ones from school.  Among our other activites at home were climbing trees, building a tree house, trying to ride Berger's cow, going to the matinee on Saturday and playing marbles.  In the evening with our parents, we would listen to the many shows on the radio, play anagrams (beginning of Scrabble), Checkers and Chinese Checkers.  A lot of times, Mom and Daddy would join us. On New Year's Eve, we would go over to Berger's house and have a party.  We would also write down a wish for the coming year and Cass would keep them until the following year and of course, we would open them, laugh and repeat it for the next year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are the games you played in grammer school and other places?  Any favorite memories?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-1258439206219203494?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/1258439206219203494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=1258439206219203494' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1258439206219203494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/1258439206219203494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/autograph-books-and-games.html' title='Autograph Books and Games'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7469604218646680253</id><published>2009-01-29T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T18:23:04.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chaumont 11</title><content type='html'>We were in Chaumont from 1953-1955. Just to see how smart you are....who was the President at that time? In 1954, we could see signs and scrawls on fences and other buildings deploring the executions of the Myron &amp; Ethel Rosenberg in the states. As May 4Th is May Day in France, we were not permitted in town as an incident may occur. A lot of demonstrations were taking place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The base would consistently issue rules regarding our conduct, dress, etc. For instance, we were not allowed to wear jeans in town. Most of the French women wore skirts and pants/slacks of any kind were frowned on. As we were guests in their country, we had to conform or stay home. We griped a bit but stayed true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Sunday, the French citizens would dress up in their best and stroll around the city/town.  The church in town was only attended by a few old women.  The little kids would pee in the gutter and their parents just smiled.  We were aghast, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We  rode the bus to the base and had to get checked in at the AP gate.  For some reason, I was always stopped.  They  thought I was French.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have to stop here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7469604218646680253?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7469604218646680253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7469604218646680253' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7469604218646680253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7469604218646680253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/chaumont-11.html' title='Chaumont 11'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7006835608041877866</id><published>2009-01-26T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T20:05:58.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chaumont</title><content type='html'>We were finally living in town although I didn't venture too far out in the community.  There was a little bakery across the street and we loved to buy warm loaves right out of the ovens and have them with our hot coffee in the morning.  Now, these loaves were about 2 ft.long and cost just a couple cents.  You could buy big round ones as well.  Because Joe was gone most of the day, I found myself over on the other side of the house with the Conrads.  Germaine always insisted that I eat lunch with them and I learned more and more French.  Lunchtime was the main meal of the day.  We always started out with cold meats followed by some sort of beef, chicken, etc. with potatoes, then vegetables  and finally, cheese and fruit. No wonder they needed a siesta in the afternoon.  You were given a clean plate with each course, plus different wines (red or white)  After dinner, you had coffee with some kind of liquer or brandy. One weekend we were all invited for dinner (lunchtime).  Germaine was making escargot and of course, we had never had it.  Pierre insisted that we try it.  He said that the best way was to put it in bread and pop it in your mouth!  Now Pierre could understand a pretty lot of English as long as you didn't speak fast.  So now he turns to Joe and asks how he liked it and your Dad never at a loss for words said very rapidly that it tastes like something he would like to throw down the toilet!  And kept say Bon, Bon and Pierre smiled and said that he knew he would like it.  We had a private chuckle over that.  Albert Lambeth would speak fast all the time but would mix in some French phrases and all would be well.  Pierre &amp; Germaine were my family away from home.  They drove us everywhere and intoduced us to their friends.  He showed us the wine cellar which was a large warehouse with huge barrels of wine.  The wine came in by truck with long hoses attached.  He also gave us keys to his cellar and told us to help ourselves which we never did.  Joe would buy him cigarettes at the base and I would give Grandmere cans of fruit cocktail which she loved.  Lordy, let's end this here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7006835608041877866?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7006835608041877866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7006835608041877866' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7006835608041877866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7006835608041877866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/chaumont.html' title='Chaumont'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4220734311893447277</id><published>2009-01-23T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T12:32:32.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancevoir/Chaumont</title><content type='html'>We stayed in Dancevoir for three months.  Joe had this old Crossley (car) that wouldn't start in the morning so  more than once, one of the local farmers would pull it with his tractor to get moving. This was embarrassing to say the least.  Finally, Joe decided that he could park the car up on the hill, coast down and away we go!  All of our  friends were scattered over the countryside and on the weekends, we would go visiting.  We went to the base movies everytime the picture changed.  There wasn't a whole lot to do.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In late March, we moved to a 3rd floor apartment in Chaumont. We really liked it. A friend of Joe's, Al Lambeth lived on the 2nd floor.  His wife came over for the summer and when Barbara left, we moved down to their place as Albert moved back to the base.  I think our rent was $28 a month.  We rented from the grandmother (grandmere) who lived below us. We lived in a winery and Pierre Conrad, his wife Germaine and family lived on the other side of the building.  They had 4 kids; Jean Pierre (18), Claudie (16), Francois (13) and Arlette (10).  I became good friends with Claudie and loved being around the younger ones as well.  We had a large bedroom-sitting room with a fireplace at one end.  We shared the bathroom with Grandmere.  This  was a large room with a high-sided bathtub. You had to light the gas jet to heat the water and  many a time, it scared the bejesus out of me when it lit because it made a loud pop!  There was also a "douce bowl" and Joe used it to wash his feet until Grandmere caught him and made him stop!  The "water closet" was down the  hall and the toilet  paper was scratchy! When Barbara was still there, we played canasta a lot in their place  as it was larger. Pierre always supplied us with wine or champagne but that's another story for another chapter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4220734311893447277?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4220734311893447277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4220734311893447277' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4220734311893447277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4220734311893447277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/dancevoirchaumont.html' title='Dancevoir/Chaumont'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-4955640329341524056</id><published>2009-01-22T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T09:17:42.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Horoscopes or Horrorscopes</title><content type='html'>My horoscope says I'm going to have a new career! Why would I want that?  I really just want to focus on today and the immediate future.  My lucky birthday numbers are 3, 5, 9, 15, 23, 29 and 35!  Wow! I can't even remember the numbers to notice if anything happens on one of my lucky days.  Do you think people believe in this crap? Just bear with me as this is one of my soap box days. It also said to plan a passionate evening for two!  No comment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-4955640329341524056?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/4955640329341524056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=4955640329341524056' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4955640329341524056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/4955640329341524056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/horoscopes-or-horrorscopes.html' title='Horoscopes or Horrorscopes'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-780484687925247933</id><published>2009-01-18T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T14:13:21.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfortunately I lost the photo!</title><content type='html'>I thought I uploaded a picture of Bill's kids but obviously, I didn't!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-780484687925247933?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/780484687925247933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=780484687925247933' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/780484687925247933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/780484687925247933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='Unfortunately I lost the photo!'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8764992808877913481</id><published>2009-01-12T17:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T18:03:42.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What did you wanna be when you were a kid?</title><content type='html'>I went up and down the scale and could never make up my mind.  As I went to Catholic school, all of the girls wanted to be nuns.  That didn't last long, esp. after we discovered BOYS!  I guess I wanted to be a teacher for the longest time.  Then, some of us in high school decided to join the Navy and become Waves,  I think we liked the uniforms. LOL! Funny, I remember girl friends knowing exactly what they wanted to become and I was somewhere out in left field.  Today, I think young people are more involved in decisions that affects their future.  Most of the kids in high school in the 40s worked, got married and had families.  We were a class of 220 and  probably just a third went on to college.  Hmmm!  Comments?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8764992808877913481?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8764992808877913481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8764992808877913481' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8764992808877913481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8764992808877913481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-did-you-wanna-be-when-you-were-kid.html' title='What did you wanna be when you were a kid?'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-8927341016244063055</id><published>2009-01-02T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T11:50:50.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooking 101</title><content type='html'>When Dad and I were first married, I knew Nada about cooking. I could bake anything but that didn't bode well for dinner. My first catastrophe was making chili. I loved it and I knew just how to make it except I bought dry kidney beans and didn't know that you had to soak and cook them. I just threw them in the pot with all the other ingredients and couldn't understand why they were like stones. Dad came home to find me crying at the stove. Needless to say, he cooked dinner and took over that chore until I learned. Another young southern bride in our squadron had a recipe that included rice. She read that it needed to be rinsed off so threw it in the sink and was horrified when it went down the drain. LOL! As most of our friends were older, I soon learned and Dad was always a good back-up if I didn't understand something. Did you ever have any like experiences?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-8927341016244063055?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/8927341016244063055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=8927341016244063055' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8927341016244063055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/8927341016244063055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2009/01/cooking-101.html' title='Cooking 101'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-7187546259324884977</id><published>2008-12-30T17:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T17:45:14.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter time and Snow</title><content type='html'>I had forgotten how deep snow can get. Here I am in Jackson Hole looking over the whiteness of the land.  Wow!  Twelve inches in one day!  I haven't seen that much snow in ages.  When I was a little girl, I loved to go out and play in it.  We would build snowmen (of course), snow houses (like igloos) and pelt you with snow balls or cram it down your neck. Those days are gone.  Now I am content to marvel at it from inside the house. LOL! I can honestly say that it is not my favorite season.  What's yours?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-7187546259324884977?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/7187546259324884977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=7187546259324884977' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7187546259324884977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/7187546259324884977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2008/12/winter-time-and-snow.html' title='Winter time and Snow'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283388465722031697.post-2621041496744241337</id><published>2008-12-15T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T15:50:17.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trips</title><content type='html'>We never called them Road Trips - we called them VACATIONS!  Through the years, we had some great ones and also some road trips from hell!  I think that's when we heard most of the Daddy-isms.  "You can go 3 days without food" etc.  Some of our not-so-great ones always involved food or animals.  Do you remember the time Louie got car sick and barfed on Daddy's neck?  And the fried chicken in the new car?  What else?  We were a poor sight arriving at motels with a car full of kids with pets.  How about that moldy hotel in Tennessee?  What other ones?  One of the good ones was tranfering to Louisiana from N.J.  We stopped in Alabama and ate dinner at a restaurant that was owned by Bear Bryant, Coach for the Crimson Tide.  Kath, you were only 3 or so, Joe was a baby and Jane, just a little older.  Anyway, they made a big fuss over you and made our day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What other trips do you remember?  And how about trips with your families?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283388465722031697-2621041496744241337?l=bettyrice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/feeds/2621041496744241337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4283388465722031697&amp;postID=2621041496744241337' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2621041496744241337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283388465722031697/posts/default/2621041496744241337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bettyrice.blogspot.com/2008/12/road-trips_15.html' title='Road Trips'/><author><name>Betty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10808435865015378645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YV187XBwUbU/Sc6xbHyVeeI/AAAAAAAAABI/3WxCo4eL6xE/S220/DSC00089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry></feed>
