tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-104193492024-03-13T11:58:38.372+00:00English KaradjawSoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.comBlogger253125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-82434842822504504702010-10-12T20:17:00.001+00:002010-10-12T20:17:30.570+00:00'I will not ever Never eat a tomato'.<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/2829757655/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/2829757655_3840254df7.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/2829757655/">'I will not ever Never eat a tomato'.</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soy Green</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> trust me, he does. even gobbles them up! hence the confusion in this picture (re the eating and the grammatical redundancy).</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-29763090998217261632010-10-12T20:14:00.001+00:002010-10-12T20:14:07.986+00:00a moving story<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/2854336132/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3144/2854336132_bde7d0a6c2.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/2854336132/">a moving story</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soy Green</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> it will be, unless it's stationary, or plain boring.</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-22732660959917934472010-08-09T13:15:00.001+00:002010-08-09T13:15:40.172+00:00kissing in paris<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="260" height="146" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=23a1c25c0c&photo_id=4820440739&flickr_show_info_box=true"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=23a1c25c0c&photo_id=4820440739&flickr_show_info_box=true" height="146" width="260"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/4820440739/">kissing in paris</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soyy</a></span></div>Have a look at your right-hand side of the screen. This was taken at a restaurant in the Louvre in Paris.<br clear="all" />Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-87318276825777262242010-05-01T17:56:00.002+00:002010-05-01T18:02:39.262+00:00parenting joyMy 4-year-old told me earlier that he didn't want me to sit next to him. He said, 'you stink mummy. Please don't sit next to me'.<br /><br />I was a bit insulted and wondered why he would say that. I certainly knew that I didn't smell! The cheek!<br /><br />And then it turned out that he just didn't want me next to him because I kept on telling him off for sticking his fingers up his nose.<br /><br />But his way of pushing me away is a bit undiplomatic, I must say.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-25642531121112641082010-02-20T17:38:00.002+00:002010-02-20T17:45:29.946+00:00ChoreEugh!<br />Yuck!<br />Agh, disgusting!<br />[Grimace, eyes half-closed]<br />Ugh, horrible!<br /><br /><br />This was how my 7-year-old boy washed dishes, after we finished off two slices of banana cake. <br /><br />Two hours earlier, he was happily splashing in the mud and puddles in the park.<br /><br />Boys, eh?Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-8478303575512186732010-02-11T17:01:00.003+00:002010-02-11T17:17:05.319+00:00Accounts<span style="font-weight: bold;">Facebook</span> = deactivated (temporarily, I guess. It's so time consuming, don't you think?)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Friendster</span> = account deleted. So childish and rubbishy. Mainly for showing off photos; not much interaction.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yahoo Messenger</span> = apps deleted. I hate the emoticons and the buzzes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Twitter</span> = maintained for now. So far, it's nice to write a line or two without thinking of an audience.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Flickr</span> = maintained. The annual subscription is worth it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Blog</span> = kept but largely ignored. I can't write anymore, whatever that means. But I still continue to read other blogs. I don't write comments but I am there.<br /><br /><br />Holy ho, what baggage do we have! Time wasters, etc. It's time to continue to de-clutter and enjoy the outdoors!Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-7509623392581023122010-01-10T16:48:00.000+00:002010-01-10T16:49:05.373+00:00sledging with my boys<object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=12f4caf13b&photo_id=4260455360"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=12f4caf13b&photo_id=4260455360" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-4360047401629519592009-11-16T21:50:00.001+00:002009-11-16T21:50:25.386+00:00RL, Paris<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/4068631098/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3496/4068631098_2d6f38e40e.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/4068631098/">RL</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soyy</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> It's been awhile since my last post. It's all got to do with Facebook, I guess, among other things that got in the way of this sort of narcissism.<br /><br />It's also got to do with fear. I am preoccupied at the moment with writing in a very specific form and a first-person narrative/descriptive style of writing is just at the opposite end of that spectrum. And so the hesitance of continuing to post here.<br /><br />But here I am!<br /><br />Soon, I'll be visiting yours too.</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-78127324497665082302009-09-10T08:37:00.001+00:002009-09-10T08:37:10.084+00:00when such mundane thing as going to school becomes extraordinarily
momentous... so be warned; you'll fall asleep after reading this title.<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3904490956/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2550/3904490956_07664104c5.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3904490956/">lew first day at pre-school</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soyy</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> I thought I should mark my 3-year-old's first day at pre-school as momentous. I wasn't as anxious as I was when his big brother started nursery. Maybe because I knew what to expect. Or that I just have too much on my plate at the moment that Lew's first day away from me was celebrated with a general clean-up of the house.<br /><br />Either way, he made me very proud. His teacher's first comment was that he sat through a long story. I just smiled. I didn't have to say that we eat books at home, that for him to sit through a long story-time was just snacks for him, or light lunch. Didn't she know that we recite the words in the Oxford Dictionary as bedtime routine? Or that we sprinkle old newspapers in our porridge, because that's how you eat words!<br /><br />Anyway. I also feel a bit of guilt, in that I feel a little bit of liberation. For 12 hours a week, when I am not at work, I am not a mother. Not that I cease to be someone's parent, but for those precious hours of staying at my desk, writing or reading my books, nobody would say, 'mummy, milk please!'. Now, somebody else would be fetching that milk and I could do what I want with my time, aside from doing the housework, of course.<br /><br />And yet, when I went to pick him up from school, I felt like I just wanted to grab him from the teacher's arms and put him back in my womb. Just like that. I missed him but I just shifted that feeling and boxed it in.<br /><br />So when I took him back home, I didn't let go of him. I cuddled him. I kissed him. I carried him around the house like a little baby. Because tomorrow, and after that, he will already have his own little world that I am not part of. And that world will grow bigger and bigger until I become just a mother in name and affection.</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-56188207499615992892009-07-29T13:26:00.003+00:002009-07-29T13:31:02.403+00:00My dream-come-true"Mummy, what's your 'dream-come-true'?" my 6-year-old asked me off-hand.<br /><br />I said, 'You. You were my 'dream-come-true'.<br /><br />He smiled. Then he ran after me and held my hand.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-19784806568575071182009-07-06T11:31:00.002+00:002009-07-06T11:33:50.228+00:00hundreds and thousands<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3694013308/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2512/3694013308_f9a1d9f911.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3694013308/">hundreds and thousands</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soyy</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> K still can't get over the fact that if ever I have a little bit of spare time nowadays, I bake. He still can't believe that I now stay in the kitchen to create something that's edible.<br /><br />So while munching through fresh choc buns that I made, he asked. Why are you baking a lot lately? Is there something I should know? (We always have a ready supply of buns and cakes from his mum.) I said, well, mum has been making lemon buns since 2003. I want something different, like chocolate, with hundreds and thousands in them!<br /><br />He said, so what do you call a single hundreds and thousands? One hundreds and thousands?!<br /><br />I said, I don't know. Shall we just call them 'bits'?</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-47479790581676290122009-07-05T09:00:00.003+00:002009-07-05T09:08:19.882+00:00ConspiracyAfter a long day out, we were welcomed at home with <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrPTDU40hO4">music</a> blaring from our next door neighbour's garden. I thought it was too loud for comfort, but hey, it's nice and warm and we could do a little bit of jig anyway while trimming the hedges.<br /><br />My 6-year-old said, hey mummy, that's Michael Jackson's song!<br /><br />I said, yes, that's right.<br /><br />He danced around and exclaimed, Michael Jackson is singing next door! He's not dead!Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-81476946973468010982009-07-01T10:00:00.002+00:002009-07-03T08:26:33.433+00:00hot summer<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> This week, at least. It's particularly warm and the nights are sticky and restless. I could hear the crickets in the early evenings and the birds singing at breakfast time. It's beautiful to be outside (in the shade, of course).<br /><br />This morning, we woke up an hour early because someone fiddled with the clock. No wonder I felt very tired. Nevertheless, I went straight to my paperworks waiting for me at my desk. I have a deadline to beat. K went outside and called me out. Come on, he said. Feel this. He stretched out his arms like he'd just come out from political imprisonment. It's warm. It's humid. It's like the Philippines! But I've only got my knickers on, I complained. It's fine. So I came out, and indeed it was warm. Fresh. Lovely. And after a second, I went back inside the house again, closed the curtains, and went back to my work.<br /><br />This afternoon, the boys will be outside again, chasing each other, in their pants. Cold England is already forgotten.</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-10922584506816194762009-06-11T14:58:00.002+00:002009-06-11T15:35:20.168+00:00Tooth fairy is coming tonight<div style="text-align: justify;">Zak's lower front tooth (central incisor) fell off today. Oh, how he screamed like a girl. I didn't expect that there would be blood coming out. It was a long time ago since my baby teeth fell off so I was a bit caught off-guard. I thought I was prepared. I thought I knew what to do at the very instant it happened.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Karl didn't know what to do either. So I cupped Zak's chin while the tooth hang precariously in his extended lower lip, with all the blood and saliva. I dragged him to the kitchen while Karl followed, albeit unhelpfully. 'What are you doing?' he asked. I started laughing, excited that the wobbly tooth has finally fallen off. Zak was looking at me like I was mad. How could his mother laugh when there was blood in his mouth? Anyway, instinct instantly kicked in. I remember how my grans managed my bleeding gum when I was little. So I let Zak rinse his mouth with a cup of vinegar and a bit of salt mixed in. Karl asked again, 'Why vinegar?' Well, soy sauce won't be much help, would it?<br /><br /><br />I felt helpless so I started shouting, where's the camera? where's the camera? Zak got the phone. Karl picked up a plastic bag. I picked up a cotton ball. Ok, let's check the tooth. Is it complete? Is it whole? Karl said, 'there's still a bit of tooth left in his gum'. I checked. No, it's fine. That's how the tooth looks like.<br /><br />I finally got hold of the camera. OK, Zak, look at me. Smile!<br /><br /></div>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-70222958485382649562009-06-04T14:54:00.003+00:002009-06-04T15:07:36.172+00:00Election Day and the Mayor of LondonI went to the polling station today to vote. There were only 2 people in there: the poll clerks. No observers, soldiers, police, politicians, nor voters waiting for vote-buyers. What a <span style="font-weight: bold;">refreshing</span> change from elections in the Philippines.<br /><br /><br />Meanwhile, the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, fell into the river while removing litter and plants. When asked afterwards what the water was like, I half-expected him to say, 'cold!' or 'bleeding cold' or something to that effect. But being Boris Johnson, he said, 'The water was very <span style="font-weight: bold;">refreshing</span> and I thoroughly recommend it!'<br /><br />I love British politicians! ;)<br /><br />Watch it <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/8083056.stm">here</a>.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-83250811118755126002009-06-01T13:42:00.002+00:002009-06-01T13:44:10.159+00:00What the Spaniards did to the FILIPINOS...<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SiPa7tYsRmI/AAAAAAAAAPI/f1KzC09T87k/s1600-h/DSC00389.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SiPa7tYsRmI/AAAAAAAAAPI/f1KzC09T87k/s320/DSC00389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342354302321837666" border="0" /></a><br />... made them into biscuits!<br /></div>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-5100781788616962862009-05-27T17:31:00.002+00:002009-05-27T17:31:57.680+00:00Just got back from a Spanish holiday. It was great but I am a bit disappointed I didn't manage to try local paella!<br /><br />I think I earned a bit of tan despite hiding under a massive umbrella and Factor 50 most of the time.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-22213683292158984712009-04-19T16:21:00.002+00:002009-04-19T16:27:56.095+00:00As if we live next door to the QueenMy six-year-old came up to me and said, 'Mum, it's Queen Elizabeth's birthday on Tuesday. Are we going to her party?'<br /><br />I managed to stop myself from laughing and asked him instead, 'Why? Do you want to go?' as if it's the normal type of conversation in my household.<br /><br />He said, 'No. I don't really want to. We will have to walk on a long red carpet and there will be lots of photographers there. If it's only Daddy doing the photos, I won't mind.'Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-65959623013585576682009-04-19T15:45:00.002+00:002009-04-19T15:51:52.032+00:00Moving on...We have moved house a few minutes' walk to my son's school. <br /><br />It's been a couple of weeks already and we haven't unpacked everything yet.<br /><br />Still stressed.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-38632649287305502572009-03-20T11:36:00.002+00:002009-03-20T11:42:29.242+00:00Today with KMe: What's that smell?!<br />Him: Oh, I just disinfected the toilet with <span style="font-weight: bold;">detox</span>!<br />Me: You mean <span style="font-weight: bold;">dettol</span>?<br />Him: Yeah, that.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Zak: And they have sausages, chips, cakes...<br />Him: Oh no. They're not always good for your heart and <span style="font-weight: bold;">archeries</span>!<br />Me: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Ar-te-ries</span>!<br />Him: Yeah, that.Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-56732873067458925062009-03-02T13:49:00.001+00:002009-03-02T13:53:32.749+00:00AllegianceWe all went to my citizenship ceremony at the start of the year. But my recent 'Britishness' has confused Zak. So he asked me in no uncertain terms:<br /><br />MUMMY, IF YOU'RE ALREADY BRITISH, WHY DO YOU STILL LOOK FILIPINO?!Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-59155122820304137642009-02-28T20:15:00.001+00:002009-02-28T20:21:59.923+00:00Lewis is 3 today<object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3405613&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3405613&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-25812552754347388882009-02-11T19:32:00.004+00:002009-02-11T19:47:03.260+00:00Silver surfer<div style="text-align: justify;">At work today, a gentleman came up asking if I could help him. He gestured at my computer and said that he also has one at home but he couldn't figure out how to turn it on. His CPU seems to be working but he couldn't see anything on the screen. I asked him if he has plugged on his monitor and I showed him where the wire should likely come from.<br /><br />After a few minutes of discussion and demonstration, he said that he tried turning on his computer this morning but he was so scared to do it. I asked him what he did then. He said, 'well, I opened all the windows before I turned on the computer.' I asked, 'what do you mean?' He explained, 'well, I was worried that the computer would explode if I turned it on that I opened the windows so I could just throw it out!'<br /></div>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-84458243755644635412009-02-03T15:32:00.006+00:002009-02-03T15:55:26.614+00:00Photos of fun time in snow<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8ukkDoI/AAAAAAAAANs/hiTp09Xaoww/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8ukkDoI/AAAAAAAAANs/hiTp09Xaoww/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298594856546078338" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Most schools were closed today due to icy roads. And so fun for the kids began!<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhlaE0VgbI/AAAAAAAAAOU/uSybdnXxEFo/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhlaE0VgbI/AAAAAAAAAOU/uSybdnXxEFo/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298596460245647794" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This time, I had to learn to let go of my 2-year-old Lewbee... on a sledge.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj86Op0MI/AAAAAAAAAOM/L-fj3l4NaY8/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj86Op0MI/AAAAAAAAAOM/L-fj3l4NaY8/s320/5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298594859675406530" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So bravely on his own...<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnPs-d5HI/AAAAAAAAAOc/u_c1WKJuT-4/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnPs-d5HI/AAAAAAAAAOc/u_c1WKJuT-4/s320/6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298598481070253170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">And they both did it together, too.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnP3iLMSI/AAAAAAAAAOk/WDOE4Wfdvg0/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnP3iLMSI/AAAAAAAAAOk/WDOE4Wfdvg0/s320/7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298598483904377122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Wheeee!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnPxbH2lI/AAAAAAAAAOs/FesktsryUNM/s1600-h/8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhnPxbH2lI/AAAAAAAAAOs/FesktsryUNM/s320/8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298598482264185426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Whoopssy!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8kTubvI/AAAAAAAAAN0/CCIBRDpm7Gk/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8kTubvI/AAAAAAAAAN0/CCIBRDpm7Gk/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298594853791100658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Fun time is tiring, too. So they had to be pulled back home.</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8s4CrpI/AAAAAAAAAN8/81cWnsXY8zs/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNH6-TbUafk/SYhj8s4CrpI/AAAAAAAAAN8/81cWnsXY8zs/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298594856090906258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Here's Zak sharing with the heavy load!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/sets/72157613273311492/">More photos here.</a></span><br /></div></div>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10419349.post-87019038445385561162009-02-02T18:27:00.001+00:002009-02-02T18:27:23.075+00:00dancing to the rhythm of the snowflakes<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3247473213/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3093/3247473213_2d5d71bfc6.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenz/3247473213/">dancing to the rhythm of the snowflakes</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/greenz/">Soyy</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> For the first time in several years, Britain is snowed in! Although it's not as thick as to warrant wearing wellingtons, we took to the road our sledge with high hopes and a dash of excitement. We've been out throughout the day and finally, the snowman managed to take shape before dark. <br /><br />I might stay up til midnight to see the 6 cm snow the BBC promised!</p>Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06494932903317352450noreply@blogger.com2