tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31454122245347549772024-03-12T19:26:58.744-04:00CJ's WanderingsOur House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-58591402778762951692008-07-18T22:35:00.001-04:002008-07-18T22:42:03.333-04:00Melancholy<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SIFUbIlszcI/AAAAAAAAAMk/dHGv6UIElwo/s1600-h/ggschl170.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SIFUbIlszcI/AAAAAAAAAMk/dHGv6UIElwo/s320/ggschl170.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224549867865296322" /></a><br />Well, it's that time of year! Time for school to start. I have so many mixed feelings right now. I am super sad that my summer is coming to an end. This summer, in particular, has gone by soooooo fast. I am leaving in the morning for my 'last hurrah' - a trip to Gatlinburg for the weekend with a good friend. When I get back next week, I will have to start going to school and get the room ready. <br /><br />I can't help but wonder about the (up to) 48 little ones who are eagerly anticipating their upcoming year in kindergarten. I know they are wondering who their teacher will be and what she will be like. I pray that I am a good teacher for them. There are so many firsts that will happen for them this year. I hope that I can provide a warm, loving and nurturing place for them while they are in my care. <br /><br />2008-2009, here we come!Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-4898136609717461682008-07-13T23:16:00.004-04:002008-07-13T23:27:10.666-04:00BEES!!!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHrFzuTBPHI/AAAAAAAAAMU/ATuUUwZFwgU/s1600-h/bee.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHrFzuTBPHI/AAAAAAAAAMU/ATuUUwZFwgU/s320/bee.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222704210281315442" /></a><br />Well, I took Pepper outside today and immediatly felt FIRE on my toe. A bee had slipped into the open toe section on my sandal, got stuck under my toe and - BAM!!!<br /><br />Steve told me to get online and search for bee sting remedies. I was amazed at what I found. I'm including the link to the site! There is a guy who decided to test all remedies he had heard about - both medical and home remedies. His friend is a beekeeper and he 'helped' him get stung, twice every 4 days until he had tested each remedy. Guess what worked (and I have to say this is what I did and it DID work!)??? <br /><br />http://www.slate.com/id/2088863/<br /><br />TOOTHPASTE!!! (The best medical remedy was calamine lotion but he said the toothpaste was by far better! It actually tingles and kind of feels like you're scratching it! If you actually DO scratch, it hurts! I'm a happy camper!!)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2088863/"></a><a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2088863/"></a>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-67397072298330924012008-07-13T20:20:00.000-04:002008-07-13T20:22:15.454-04:00<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29zQGhnKQck"></a>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-14033491002354586592008-07-11T16:32:00.002-04:002008-07-11T16:38:32.699-04:00More on my DadMy father was born in Hancock County, Kentucky in the town of Hawesville in 1914. He grew up in the age where children were taught great pieces of literature. My dad would quote entire poems from memory, right up until his death on October 11, 1990 at the age of 76. He never forgot. After searching for the source of the quote below, I would imagine that he had learned the entire poem. <br /><br />At his funeral, we had a number of his favorite poems read. The pastor who presided at his funeral was Dr. Franklin Owen, who was about the same age as my father and who, himself, had recited many of the same poems by memory. When we asked him to recite the poem about "I'd rather sit by the side of the road and be a friend to man", he knew it by memory and recited it right there! <br /><br />I am about to begin my 26th year of teaching. I am currently teaching kindergarten but have past experience to sixth grade. Children today have no concept of this type of teaching. <br /><br />I am so fortunate to have lived with this great man who was full of wisdom <em><strong>and</strong></em> wit!!Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-18954574021414180332008-07-11T16:30:00.001-04:002008-07-11T16:32:39.131-04:00ThanatopsisThanatopsis<br /><br />By William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />TO him who in the love of Nature holds <br />Communion with her visible forms, she speaks <br />A various language; for his gayer hours <br />She has a voice of gladness, and a smile <br />And eloquence of beauty, and she glides <br />Into his darker musings, with a mild <br />And healing sympathy, that steals away <br />Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts <br />Of the last bitter hour come like a blight <br />Over thy spirit, and sad images <br />Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, <br />And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, <br />Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;— <br />Go forth, under the open sky, and list <br />To Nature’s teachings, while from all around— <br />Earth and her waters, and the depths of air— <br />Comes a still voice:— <br /><br />Yet a few days, and thee <br />The all-beholding sun shall see no more <br />In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, <br />Where thy pale form was laid with many tears, <br />Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist <br />Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim <br />Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, <br />And, lost each human trace, surrendering up <br />Thine individual being, shalt thou go <br />To mix forever with the elements, <br />To be a brother to the insensible rock <br />And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain <br />Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak <br />Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. <br /><br />Yet not to thine eternal resting-place <br />Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish <br />Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down <br />With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings, <br />The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good, <br />Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, <br />All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills <br />Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales <br />Stretching in pensive quietness between; <br />The venerable woods—rivers that move <br />In majesty, and the complaining brooks <br />That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, <br />Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,— <br />Are but the solemn decorations all <br />Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, <br />The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, <br />Are shining on the sad abodes of death <br />Through the still lapse of ages. <em><strong>All that tread <br />The globe are but a handful to the tribes <br />That slumber in its bosom.—</strong></em>Take the wings <br />Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, <br />Or lose thyself in the continuous woods <br />Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, <br />Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there; <br />And millions in those solitudes, since first <br />The flight of years began, have laid them down <br />In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone. <br />So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw <br />In silence from the living, and no friend <br />Take note of thy departure? All that breathe <br />Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh <br />When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care <br />Plod on, and each one as before will chase <br />His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave <br />Their mirth and their employments, and shall come <br />And make their bed with thee. As the long train <br />Of ages glides away, the sons of men— <br />The youth in life’s fresh spring, and he who goes <br />In the full strength of years, matron and maid, <br />The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man— <br />Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, <br />By those, who in their turn shall follow them. <br /><br />So live, that when thy summons comes to join <br />The innumerable caravan, which moves <br />To that mysterious realm, where each shall take <br />His chamber in the silent halls of death, <br />Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, <br />Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed <br />By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave <br />Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch <br />About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-34587249007815512292008-07-11T16:28:00.000-04:002008-07-11T16:30:20.791-04:00Source of QuoteI've already had someone ask about Dad's quote. I had no idea where it came from. He always said, "Those who trod the globe are but a handful of those who slumber in its bosom." Carl F. Lamar version.<br /><br />I have since found the original source. It comes from a poem entitled "Thanatopsis" <br /><br />By William Cullen BryantOur House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-56843715860509984372008-07-11T13:00:00.016-04:002008-07-11T16:20:20.416-04:00Those who trod the globe . . .<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSepAOyaI/AAAAAAAAALE/Or5ZHNyGplQ/s1600-h/Cap+And..JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSepAOyaI/AAAAAAAAALE/Or5ZHNyGplQ/s320/Cap+And..JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221803348059933090" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSZiDbb4I/AAAAAAAAAK8/AhPBhNV9-3k/s1600-h/Cap+Anderson.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSZiDbb4I/AAAAAAAAAK8/AhPBhNV9-3k/s320/Cap+Anderson.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221803260294950786" /></a><br />My father loved quotes!!! One of his favorites that was quoted EVERY time we passed a cemetery was, "Those who trod the globe are but a handful to those who slumber in its bosom."<br /><br />This is the Cap Anderson Cemetery is the final resting place for many of my family and many more friends. I took a few pictures of our family plot to put on my Family Tree Maker family tree. I know this is morbid to some but it's a record of history. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSma4gv6I/AAAAAAAAALM/iHBU4kEmTVY/s1600-h/family+stone.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeSma4gv6I/AAAAAAAAALM/iHBU4kEmTVY/s320/family+stone.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221803481708412834" /></a><br /><br />This is the Family Stone. It says Miller-Lamar. My grandparents, my parents and a baby brother that died before I was born are all buried here. There are three more plots left. I hope one will be for me.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTKTBOUZI/AAAAAAAAALk/IQJGU3lw-vw/s1600-h/1+Denny.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTKTBOUZI/AAAAAAAAALk/IQJGU3lw-vw/s320/1+Denny.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804098072760722" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTBSDwnVI/AAAAAAAAALU/CpRfBzEt2Rc/s1600-h/2+CFL.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTBSDwnVI/AAAAAAAAALU/CpRfBzEt2Rc/s320/2+CFL.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221803943196138834" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTFgSGEgI/AAAAAAAAALc/GD8drtzOl0E/s1600-h/2+CFL+military.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTFgSGEgI/AAAAAAAAALc/GD8drtzOl0E/s320/2+CFL+military.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804015733838338" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTauzGe-I/AAAAAAAAAL8/hEpxYsZEZM0/s1600-h/5+NPDM.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTauzGe-I/AAAAAAAAAL8/hEpxYsZEZM0/s320/5+NPDM.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804380407626722" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTVg2RTqI/AAAAAAAAAL0/cBfvI8JldpY/s1600-h/4+JRM.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTVg2RTqI/AAAAAAAAAL0/cBfvI8JldpY/s320/4+JRM.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804290763476642" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTRIuCBQI/AAAAAAAAALs/vxNDcHuMUBs/s1600-h/3+RML.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTRIuCBQI/AAAAAAAAALs/vxNDcHuMUBs/s320/3+RML.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804215566992642" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTtMP-_II/AAAAAAAAAMM/GzJDrqEncpU/s1600-h/family+plot+3+left.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTtMP-_II/AAAAAAAAAMM/GzJDrqEncpU/s320/family+plot+3+left.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804697551043714" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTjldharI/AAAAAAAAAME/8NeHgKLHJn4/s1600-h/family+plot.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeTjldharI/AAAAAAAAAME/8NeHgKLHJn4/s320/family+plot.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221804532520020658" /></a>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-30441894773240826072008-07-11T12:47:00.005-04:002008-07-11T12:54:42.039-04:00My Dad's Namesake<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeO0-sHuQI/AAAAAAAAAK0/oyD7Evb6YDs/s1600-h/cfl+school+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeO0-sHuQI/AAAAAAAAAK0/oyD7Evb6YDs/s320/cfl+school+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221799333791774978" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeOu8Ve5jI/AAAAAAAAAKs/SApSkygSWLU/s1600-h/cfl%27s+school.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeOu8Ve5jI/AAAAAAAAAKs/SApSkygSWLU/s320/cfl%27s+school.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221799230080738866" /></a><br /><br />These are views of the Lamar-Kunnecke Vocational School. After my dad left Meade County, he and my mother moved to Lexington, Kentucky where he joined the staff at the University of Kentucky. He worked with Agricultural Extension Agents throughouth the state. He also worked on his Master's and Doctorate. He eventualy went from Ag Education to Vocational Education. He moved to Frankfort to work with the State Department of Education where he served as the Assistant Superintendent of Public Instruction as well as the State Director of Vocational Education. By the time he left Frankfort, he was responsible for placing a minimum of 1 vocational school in each of the 120 counties in Kentucky. He was very proud of this fact! He was instrumental in the formation of this particular school. I believe he was most proud of putting a vocational school in Meade County. They repaid him by naming the school after him. My memories of the dedication day were the band playing Frank Sinatra's "My Way" when he entered the gymnasium! I have never been so proud!Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-18262532458747037302008-07-11T12:29:00.010-04:002008-07-11T12:46:18.901-04:00Moving Along<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeKp2eNywI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hWuPw28_IpU/s1600-h/cfl%27s+rooming+house.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeKp2eNywI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hWuPw28_IpU/s320/cfl%27s+rooming+house.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221794744560896770" /></a><br /><br />Back in the 30's this was a rooming house. My dad had a room in this house when he first moved to Brandenburg.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeLePNoSfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/kzBuuVDTQMQ/s1600-h/R%26C%27+1st+home.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeLePNoSfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/kzBuuVDTQMQ/s320/R%26C%27+1st+home.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221795644555414002" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is the building where my parents had their first apartment. They lived upstairs. My mom worked downstairs in the REA office. REA is now RECC. She worked there when they were putting the first electric lines in Meade County. She knew where all the transformers in the county were. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNsctrQuI/AAAAAAAAAKk/gVl1wlv0FPo/s1600-h/ck+old+pond.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNsctrQuI/AAAAAAAAAKk/gVl1wlv0FPo/s320/ck+old+pond.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221798087720911586" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNlhvuoDI/AAAAAAAAAKc/cIyKBWT62Vc/s1600-h/ck+shed.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNlhvuoDI/AAAAAAAAAKc/cIyKBWT62Vc/s320/ck+shed.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221797968812613682" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNfgI1g_I/AAAAAAAAAKU/2V29WwAyz54/s1600-h/ck+back.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNfgI1g_I/AAAAAAAAAKU/2V29WwAyz54/s320/ck+back.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221797865301836786" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNZBS_2nI/AAAAAAAAAKM/4Hkv9UcOdV4/s1600-h/ck+ft+porch.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNZBS_2nI/AAAAAAAAAKM/4Hkv9UcOdV4/s320/ck+ft+porch.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221797753943743090" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNSFzRLJI/AAAAAAAAAKE/S7CtUIstyew/s1600-h/ck+miller%27s.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeNSFzRLJI/AAAAAAAAAKE/S7CtUIstyew/s320/ck+miller%27s.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221797634893753490" /></a><br /><br />This is what I call 'home' now. Since I have no family there anymore, I spend my time at the home of Virginia and C.K. Miller. Their daughters have been friends since early childhood. Both Virginia and C.K. were friends to my parents for a lifetime. In fact, we are distantly related through Virginia's line (however, we have not yet found the link). Once I was told this (around 12 years old), that's all it took for me to call Betty, Martha, Tommy, Bobby and Kim, my 'cousins'. This house belonged to Virginia's parents. She inherited the house and totally renovated it. I absolutely love the house! It has two staircases!!! A front staircase and a back one that leads to the kitchen! The only thing I miss is the old attic. I can remember going upstairs with Betty and 'exploring' the attic. There were old trunks full of bearskin coats, hats, 20's clothing, pennants, shoes, etc. We spent many hours up there. I often wonder where all that stuff whent after the renovation . . .<br /><br />The house sits on a hill looking toward the Meade County High School. Behind the house spreads a lovely yard that C.K. spends many hours on. He maintains an immense garden - both floral and vegetable! There used to be a large pond but now is a sloping landscape.Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-28918199732390100762008-07-11T12:10:00.008-04:002008-07-11T16:20:47.891-04:00More B-burg<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJJ7tGvlI/AAAAAAAAAJM/5O8rAjFBvvU/s1600-h/courthouse+steps.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJJ7tGvlI/AAAAAAAAAJM/5O8rAjFBvvU/s320/courthouse+steps.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221793096698084946" /></a><br />The old courthouse sat at the bottom of the hill, overlooking the Ohio River. The old courthouse was destroyed in the '74 tornado. This is where it stood. The old steps are still there.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJcaYw54I/AAAAAAAAAJU/ybMUD6_yxt8/s1600-h/old+jail.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJcaYw54I/AAAAAAAAAJU/ybMUD6_yxt8/s320/old+jail.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221793414171912066" /></a><br /><br />Behind the courthouse was the old jail. The jail is still standing and is now the home of Jailhouse Pizza! I haven't been there but it is a must for my next visit!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJvKQpOlI/AAAAAAAAAJc/zhW7gSmtH1g/s1600-h/courthouse+sign.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeJvKQpOlI/AAAAAAAAAJc/zhW7gSmtH1g/s320/courthouse+sign.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221793736260401746" /></a><br /><br />Here is a view of the Ohio - My favorite place to escape. Once I got my driver's license, I would drive down here and sit and stare. I always found peace! There was almost always a barge going up or down the river. Sure enough, there was one there on Wednesday!!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeKRRaolMI/AAAAAAAAAJk/VF8EYiHb7E4/s1600-h/Mighty+O-hio.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeKRRaolMI/AAAAAAAAAJk/VF8EYiHb7E4/s320/Mighty+O-hio.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221794322296902850" /></a>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-13936083823474192292008-07-11T12:01:00.006-04:002008-07-11T12:09:49.151-04:00B-Burg - Around town<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeEDuuBrHI/AAAAAAAAAI0/nRR1M_BV3pA/s1600-h/rml+hilltop.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeEDuuBrHI/AAAAAAAAAI0/nRR1M_BV3pA/s320/rml+hilltop.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221787492574932082" /></a><br /><br />This is the hillside where my mother lived as a child. I'm not sure if this is the exact spot but it's close.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeEgA9OPGI/AAAAAAAAAI8/uPjW7dF9uqE/s1600-h/town+hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeEgA9OPGI/AAAAAAAAAI8/uPjW7dF9uqE/s320/town+hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221787978506845282" /></a><br /><br />This is a view of what is left of the cute little shops on the 'town hill'. This is the road that goes downhill toward the river. Oh, the memories of downtown. This particular picture shows the building that once held the old movie theater. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeE7IozHDI/AAAAAAAAAJE/5uCYDwYWvAI/s1600-h/river+post.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeE7IozHDI/AAAAAAAAAJE/5uCYDwYWvAI/s320/river+post.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221788444425133106" /></a><br /><br />This is a post by the river.<br /><br />Here is an historic marker showing news of John Hunt Morgan's crossing of the Mighty Ohio at Brandenburg during the Civil War.Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-84834003660035492632008-07-11T11:54:00.002-04:002008-07-11T12:00:42.610-04:00BrandenburgOk - didn't mean to post yet! That was a picture of my Grandmother's house. Her name was Nora Pearl Dowell Miller but everyone called her 'Go'. The oldest grandchild couldn't say grandmother and it came out 'go-go'. That's what it was for years, then as we grew and matured, it was shortened to 'Go'. Everyone called her that - friends, neighbors, everyone. The house looks much the same from the front except that it has been painted yellow and brown. It used to be white with green trim. She always had a fence around the yard that kept Buddy and later Sam safely in. There were two large trees on either side of the yard that provided lots of shade. She had a glider that sat under the trees and we would spend hours sitting out there watching the cars pass. <br /><br />The back of the house had a circular drive that circled around to the garage/basement. There was a concrete wall around the drive, lined with iris. I played for hours on the wall. She also had rows of hollyhocks along the fence. We would make hollyhock dolls from the blooms. She had a glass porch on the back were we spent many hours 'visiting'. <br /><br />Now the house has an elaborage deck in the back. From the back, it is entirely different but the picture I took is very much the same from the front.Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-92196007076305700842008-07-11T11:47:00.004-04:002008-07-11T15:17:34.953-04:00Back to my roots<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeB-jQfm6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/hkVysV7z64U/s1600-h/Go%27s.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SHeB-jQfm6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/hkVysV7z64U/s320/Go%27s.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221785204575673250" /></a><br />I recently felt the need to run away - away from pressures, stress, family, life . . . Where did I go? I went back 'home' - Brandenburg, KY. Although I have never actually lived in Brandenburg, I feel a tremendous pull to Brandenburg. I have roots there! My mother's family was from there. My father went to Brandenburg straight out of Western Kentucky University to teach Ag and coach basketball. My grandfather was the County Judge. I spent a lot of time there growing up. Probably a minimum of one weekend per month most of my growing years, most holidays, summers, . . . When I reached high school years, I had many cousins, friends and extended family and would go to spend weeks at a time with my grandmother.<br /><br />During my recent visit, I toured the town, taking pictures of many 'special' spots. It was melancholy because many spots in my memory were blown away in the 1974 tornado that destroyed most of the town. However, the places remain in my heart!Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-16763793160724318562008-06-22T12:26:00.002-04:002008-06-22T12:31:47.968-04:00Save Days of our Lives<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SF5-Zic7d4I/AAAAAAAAAIg/8l0rUf2Rb28/s1600-h/dool.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SF5-Zic7d4I/AAAAAAAAAIg/8l0rUf2Rb28/s320/dool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214744395751585666" /></a><br />I have just been informed that Days of our Lives may be in danger. I am so upset by this! I can remember coming home from half day kindergarten at Lansdowne Country Club in Lexington, KY, having lunch and playing beside my mom while she ironed and watched Days. It was a new show at that time. Jule was just a rebellious teenager.<br /><br />Through the years, I followed the script. I listened as my mother, grandmother and their friends discussed the shows storylines. When I went to the University of Kentucky in fall of 1974, I scheduled my classes around Days. The girls on my floor would gather to watch Days together. On days where I could not make it back to the dorm to watch, there was a group who gathered in the Student Center to watch. That was a huge group. We'd all hoot and holler and interact with the players! <br /><br />If Days is cancelled, it will be a catrostrophe!!! The end of an era! Days was one of the very first and has stayed true to its viewers! <br /><br />Please sign this petition to keep days!!!<br /><br />http://www.youchoose.net/referral/carla_r_10/click/2/campaign/save_days_of_our_lives_from_being_canceledOur House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-60810830057312120002008-05-04T14:31:00.003-04:002008-05-04T14:36:48.209-04:00SPY Records<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB4B3AXcZGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/sPpxz5ATBe0/s1600-h/100_0389.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196593064534893666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB4B3AXcZGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/sPpxz5ATBe0/s320/100_0389.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We have owned Spy Records at Tates Creek South for two years. We recently closed and are now selling on Amazon.com. I have been working all weekend on our Amazon store. I have just completed entering our boxed sets of music! Check it out! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/shops/index.html?ie=UTF8&sellerID=A2VIFBOGV9UR1X">http://www.amazon.com/gp/shops/index.html?ie=UTF8&sellerID=A2VIFBOGV9UR1X</a> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">We have TONS of merchandise to enter. Check back often to see what we have! </div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-17866875747854490662008-05-03T20:49:00.006-04:002008-05-03T20:59:39.625-04:00My Beautiful Boy!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB0JWAXcZDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/DwrlQNHC2dY/s1600-h/josh.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196319818715522098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB0JWAXcZDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/DwrlQNHC2dY/s320/josh.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>My son, Josh is home. I have missed him terribly. He is in the process of looking for a job. He has filled out applications at Frye, Best Buy, Wal-Mart, KFC, Q-doba, Rite Aid and I think, Circuit City. He has two interviews set up. Yesterday, he went upstairs and came down with a new, short cut beard. Surprise!!! Today, he went out, looking for a place to get a haircut. He had very nervous feet. Everywhere he went, he said either looked too "froo froo" or were packed. He said he didn't want someone whose hair looked like a bird cutting his hair. After driving around for a couple of hours, he came home and asked me to cut it! I used to cut his hair all the time when he was small. He didn't want a drastic cut - just from the middle of his back to chin length - no layers, no frills - I could do that! Well here he is! What do you think?<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196320072118592578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB0JkwXcZEI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_Zo6gPlWsJ8/s320/IMG_0332.JPG" border="0" /> Notice: he has on a Tommy Hilfiger shirt!!!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196320269687088210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SB0JwQXcZFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Qt1LC_DQyNo/s320/IMG_0336.JPG" border="0" />Happy Boy! I love my son!<br /></div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-42537111974705395372008-04-14T17:25:00.016-04:002008-04-19T13:05:41.884-04:00The Metropolitan Museum- I have to have a post on the Met. Since I was traveling with Gloria, my best friend and retired art teacher, the Met was a non-negotiable!!! Gloria has been teaching from the Met for years!! If it were up to her, we would have stayed the entire day. This day was the day for Gloria and Suzanne (Chinatown was my day:). Here's how I had the day planned. We would be at the Met by opening time (9:30). We had reservations for lunch at Tavern on the Green at 1:00. My plan was to walk through the park to the Tavern. Afterwards we would have a carriage ride through Central Park, then walk back to the Edison via 5th and Madison Ave - the 'big' shops (this part was for Suzanne who is not so much a bargain shopper!) <div align="center"><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Well, this is how it happened. We got a late start. After a late breakfast, we were at the Met (via subway) by 10:30. We went through the Egyptian exhibit and had to leave for the lunch date. When we left the Tavern, there was a carriage right outside!!! We took his ride, then caught a taxi back to the Met (it was about 40 degrees!!) We stayed at the Met for another 2-3 hours, seeing the costume exhibit and the masters art. We then caught a taxi back to the hotel to get ready for dinner and Legally Blonde. Needless to say, contrary to what I had been informed by a friend who has an apartment in NYC, the Met is NOT walking distance to the Edison!</div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center">Here are some of the highlights (my opinion):</div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189217355273835922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPNsONjlZI/AAAAAAAAADE/lHDLFCIXvrI/s320/carriageride.JPG" border="0" />Here we are just after our ride!</div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189218098303178162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPOXeNjlbI/AAAAAAAAADU/qEiEBs1HnKM/s320/IMG_0218.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189217883554813346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPOK-NjlaI/AAAAAAAAADM/K7babpgXzd4/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189218317346510274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPOkONjlcI/AAAAAAAAADc/oQ-BsEZgDwk/s320/IMG_0220.JPG" border="0" /> This is "the Nail Man"<br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189218785497945554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPO_eNjldI/AAAAAAAAADk/cnJllZQlwDk/s320/IMG_0267.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189219249354413554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPPaeNjlfI/AAAAAAAAAD0/GidJNtOQl1Q/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189218953001670114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPPJONjleI/AAAAAAAAADs/v5-PSVll3Jg/s320/IMG_0268.JPG" border="0" />Van Gogh - my favorite! I just love his colors! It was so incredible</p><p align="center">to be able to see the brush strokes!!! </p><br /><p align="center"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189221319528650242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPRS-NjlgI/AAAAAAAAAD8/qMwJJ-7mMIY/s320/IMG_0264.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189225524301633042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPVHuNjlhI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Qa3Ot3m1_Yw/s320/IMG_0265.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">Can't leave out Monet! - breathtaking!!</p><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189225842129212962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPVaONjliI/AAAAAAAAAEM/eVpvANTvRlE/s320/IMG_0270.JPG" border="0" />Seurat</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"Seurat's Grande Jatte is one of those rare works of art that stand alone; its transcendence is instinctively recognized by everyone. What makes this transcendence so mysterious is that the theme of the work is not some profound emotion or momentous event, but the most banal of workaday scenes: Parisians enjoying an afternoon in a local park. Yet we never seem to fathom its elusive power. Stranger still, when he painted it, Seurat was a mere 25 (with only seven more years to live), a young man with a scientific theory to prove; this is hardly the recipe for success. His theory was optical: the conviction that painting in dots, known as pointillism or divisionism, would produce a brighter color than painting in strokes.<br />"Seurat spent two years painting this picture, concentrating painstakingly on the landscape of the park before focusing on the people; always their shapes, never their personalities. Individuals did not interest him, only their formal elegance. There is no untidiness in Seurat; all is beautifully balanced. The park was quite a noisy place: a man blows his bugle, children run around, there are dogs. Yet the impression we receive is of silence, of control, of nothing disordered. I think it is this that makes La Grande Jatte so moving to us who live in such a disordered world: Seurat's control. There is an intellectual clarity here that sets him free to paint this small park with an astonishing poetry. Even if the people in the park are pairs or groups, they still seem alone in their concision of form - alone but not lonely. No figure encroaches on another's space: all coexist in peace.<br />"This is a world both real and unreal - a sacred world. We are often harried by life's pressures and its speed, and many of us think at times: Stop the world, I want to get off! In this painting, Seurat has "stopped the world," and it reveals itself as beautiful, sunlit, and silent - it is Seurat's world, from which we would never want to get off."<br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189225958093329970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPVg-NjljI/AAAAAAAAAEU/xzc_bJEEOTU/s320/IMG_0271.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><div align="center">This is a close up of the pointillism!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189226082647381570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAPVoONjlkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/LH-hmRA2miU/s320/IMG_0278.JPG" border="0" /><br />To broaden my horizons, I have to put this one in. I was very impressed with this painting by Karl-Heinrich Lehmann 1814-1882. I was not familiar with him but I couldn't pass this one! It looked so much like a photograph!<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"></p></div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-14399561484358402512008-04-13T00:29:00.001-04:002008-04-17T06:57:13.879-04:00Purses!!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGMXONjlSI/AAAAAAAAACE/k7jcHMhT47Y/s1600-h/purses.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188582576287356194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGMXONjlSI/AAAAAAAAACE/k7jcHMhT47Y/s320/purses.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>One of the purse stalls . . . </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Of course, after shopping, just turn the corner and have a bite in <em>Little Italy</em>!!! YUM!!!</div><br /><br /><div></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGMuuNjlTI/AAAAAAAAACM/3gZXlQP2Qpw/s1600-h/littleitaly1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188582980014282034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="207" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGMuuNjlTI/AAAAAAAAACM/3gZXlQP2Qpw/s320/littleitaly1.JPG" width="265" border="0" /></a></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGM1uNjlUI/AAAAAAAAACU/0fSYO993lp8/s1600-h/LI2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188583100273366338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" height="178" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGM1uNjlUI/AAAAAAAAACU/0fSYO993lp8/s320/LI2.JPG" width="254" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGM1uNjlUI/AAAAAAAAACU/0fSYO993lp8/s1600-h/LI2.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Just look over Glo's shoulder across the street! Little Italy is so picturesque! I am watching the Godfather right now! It was filmed there! </div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-20315937718580834202008-04-13T00:10:00.001-04:002008-04-13T16:04:11.929-04:00Chinatown<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAJnLONjlXI/AAAAAAAAACw/vqbV8VFY04I/s1600-h/chinatown2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188823163175409010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAJnLONjlXI/AAAAAAAAACw/vqbV8VFY04I/s320/chinatown2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAGLNONjlRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/yLEZVqxq9-E/s1600-h/chinatown2.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>I have to say that I enjoyed Chinatown as much or more than anything else in NYC. It is very exciting to me and combines a number of elements: shopping, travel, intrigue, shopping, bargains, culture, danger, shopping . . . need I say more. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Now that I'm 'experienced' (three trips under my belt), I think I can give a few tips to NYC purse shoppers. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><ul><br /><br /><li>you don't have to buy the first purse you see - there will always be more!</li><br /><br /><li>don't be afraid to 'follow' the whisperers - just stay in a group</li><br /><br /><li>listen to the whispers - gucci - prada - coach . . .</li><br /><br /><li>the guys with the pictures are the ones with the real counterfeit products - bigger names and prices</li><br /><br /><li>don't think the 'whisperers' are the only ones with the 'hidden' stores - many of the stores have hidden backdoors</li><br /><br /><li>if you want Tiffany jewelry - ask for it. They'll get it. Last year, they took me to the back of the store where they brought out trays from behind curtains. This year, when I said I wanted earrings, the man whistled and a girl appeared who began to pull zip-loc bags of earrings out of her bra! Just ask and you'll receive.</li><br /><br /><li>we found a little 'mall' that wandered in an L-shape that had many booths and very good products and prices. I got a Dooney and Bourke giraffe bag - very nice - for $21 - I know it's fake but a very good one!</li><br /><br /><li>There is more to Chinatown than just Canal street - keep walking!</li><br /><br /><li>If it's rainy - they will bargain with you much more to keep business going.</li></ul><br /><br /><p></p></div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-39616710115794930202008-04-12T22:29:00.001-04:002008-04-12T22:29:16.155-04:00Check out my Slide Show!<div><embed src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&il=1&channel=2305843009222019114&site=widget-2a.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2305843009222019114&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/p1/2305843009222019114/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=2305843009222019114&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/p2/2305843009222019114/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a></div></div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3145412224534754977.post-23766474876311952022008-04-12T20:51:00.003-04:002008-04-13T16:07:18.162-04:00Hello!<div><br /></div><br /><div>I am creating a new blog. I already have one called Ray's Ramblings which is basically for the parents of my kindergarten students at school. This one will just be for me.<br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>I will probably ramble on in this blog as well but I want to be able to ramble about more personal topics.<br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>This particular entry is to share my recent trip to NYC over Spring Break! I went with my sister-in-law, Suzanne and my best friend, Gloria. I planned the trip. I really did my homework on this one. Last year, the three of us went on a bus trip with a school group from Mercer County. It was a whirlwind trip over four days. We saw the highlights, statue of liberty, empire state building, ground zero, Chinatown, Times Square and bus tours of the city. Most of the sights we saw were from the bus window. It was just enough to drive us crazy! </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188804875204662610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAJWiuNjlVI/AAAAAAAAACc/v0azCMfcc5o/s320/100_0467.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><div align="center">Empire State Bld. '07<br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAFaj-NjlMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/yxmpd6UJ4hY/s1600-h/100_0467.jpg"></a></p><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188528141871846610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAFa2uNjlNI/AAAAAAAAABY/6kwHfh6p08I/s320/100_0503.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div align="center">Hanging around with the Osbornes<br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188528979390469346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAFbneNjlOI/AAAAAAAAABg/cxFS7FERkDU/s320/NEW+YORK+070.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div>We had to go back. Thus, this trip came about. I researched and came up with a fantastic trip. </div><br /><br /><div>First of all, we flew this time Monday morning- nonstop LEX to LGA. We were on the streets by 9:30 am! Our return was at 9:15pm on Thursday so we had four full days in the Big Apple!!! I booked the trip through nyctrip.com because after pricing everything individually, it was cheaper to go through them and book everything we wanted to do. We stayed at the Edison Hotel which was on 47th, right off Broadway. </div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188823579787236738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_CpiQfkocw/SAJnjeNjlYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/IRVmudRQ2a8/s320/edisonlights.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>This is the marquee for the Edison. Busy, busy, busy. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I'll be posting more on the trip later.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Our House at the Pinnaclehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678999168860893816noreply@blogger.com0