<?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-27906729</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:37:55.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is a bowl of cherries.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-7890946587303172099</id><published>2009-05-10T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T16:45:03.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's day 2009.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Sgdm_qrQydI/AAAAAAAADTc/kkN63ZFC60g/s1600-h/Email0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Sgdm_qrQydI/AAAAAAAADTc/kkN63ZFC60g/s400/Email0040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like a million years since my mother passed away in 1981.  She was a wonderful person that was loved by all who knew her.  She had some special little things about her that I think about and still chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  She loved to make cinnamon rolls--and give them away.&lt;br /&gt;2.  She would give someone the coat off her children's backs if she felt they needed something, but once went to the home of a girl who had stolen my sister's sweater to retrieve it.  She did not like a thief.&lt;br /&gt;3.  She love "the store".  That was the St. Johns Drug Company--her father's Drug Store.  We all loved that store.&lt;br /&gt;4.  When I worked there...her favorite task for me to do was to "wash the front step" to make sure that it was clean for customers.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Her birthday was May 9.  Sometimes it fell on Mother's Day. &lt;br /&gt;6.  She had very little, but needed very little.&lt;br /&gt;7.  She loved shoes.  Her granddaughter Courtney inherited that trait.&lt;br /&gt;8.  She loved hot chilies. &lt;br /&gt;9.  Her spankings did not hurt, but if she began to cry, that really hurt.&lt;br /&gt;10.  She was oblivious to the world around her and was one of the most innocent persons I ever knew.&lt;br /&gt;11.  She was a great cub scout den mother....but I do not remember her serving in more major positions of leadership.&lt;br /&gt;12.  If she had any money and the church needed money for a special purpose, she would donate what she had.&lt;br /&gt;13.  She loved a drug store Coca-Cola.&lt;br /&gt;14.  She attended my ball games reluctantly--and it was because she once told me she did not want to see me get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;15.  She always botched the punch lone on a joke.&lt;br /&gt;16.  She always tried to make birthdays special.  Try doing that with very little means.&lt;br /&gt;17.  If she did not write me every week while I served a mission, it was because she was sick.&lt;br /&gt;18.  She wrote letters to her nephews as well--and sometimes mixed the letters up and send them to the wrong party.&lt;br /&gt;19.  Once, she dressed up in a costume and came trick or treating to our house.  I did not know it was her until I found the yellow lollipop we gave to her.&lt;br /&gt;20.  She was sort of a lousy cook--her cinnamon rolls were great, but her chocolate chip cookies were as hard as rocks.&lt;br /&gt;21.  She had a brain tumor that manifested in 1970 and her health was never good after that time.&lt;br /&gt;22.  She ALWAYS looked at the back of a greeting card to see how much it cost and I always crossed it out because I knew she would look.&lt;br /&gt;23.  She loved fresh vegetables.&lt;br /&gt;24.  She was legendarilly loyal to her family.&lt;br /&gt;25.  I have to think she will be one who makes it to the Celestial Kingdom.&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/27906729-7890946587303172099?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/7890946587303172099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=7890946587303172099' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7890946587303172099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7890946587303172099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day-2009.html' title='Mother&apos;s day 2009.'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Sgdm_qrQydI/AAAAAAAADTc/kkN63ZFC60g/s72-c/Email0040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-1687416658459859665</id><published>2009-03-29T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T16:29:47.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A good morning at the beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SdAT3gACsEI/AAAAAAAACf8/y97k4nGVngg/s1600-h/Amanda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SdAT3gACsEI/AAAAAAAACf8/y97k4nGVngg/s400/Amanda.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  One morning at our 2007 trip to Newport, Brooke and I took the early-bird Amanda out for a walk.  This is one of my all-time favorite photos of her.  She was so excited to go that she dressed herself and focused on the little critters washed up by the surf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda--Grandpa and Grandma love you!&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&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: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-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/27906729-1687416658459859665?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/1687416658459859665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=1687416658459859665' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1687416658459859665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1687416658459859665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-morning-at-beach.html' title='A good morning at the beach'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SdAT3gACsEI/AAAAAAAACf8/y97k4nGVngg/s72-c/Amanda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-4790327358110279813</id><published>2009-02-09T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T19:08:32.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Orchid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SZDvsLOCBvI/AAAAAAAABY0/LOiml8kzKak/s1600-h/IMG_0596.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SZDvsLOCBvI/AAAAAAAABY0/LOiml8kzKak/s400/IMG_0596.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &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/27906729-4790327358110279813?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/4790327358110279813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=4790327358110279813' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4790327358110279813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4790327358110279813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2009/02/winter-orchid.html' title='Winter Orchid'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SZDvsLOCBvI/AAAAAAAABY0/LOiml8kzKak/s72-c/IMG_0596.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-1165475175408643559</id><published>2008-10-31T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T16:25:00.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart you too, Nathan.</title><content type='html'>Love, Grapo&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SQuTy-v5_mI/AAAAAAAAAUU/tiaj_gi7oI0/s1600-h/IMG_0567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SQuTy-v5_mI/AAAAAAAAAUU/tiaj_gi7oI0/s400/IMG_0567.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-1165475175408643559?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/1165475175408643559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=1165475175408643559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1165475175408643559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1165475175408643559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-heart-you-too-nathan.html' title='I Heart you too, Nathan.'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SQuTy-v5_mI/AAAAAAAAAUU/tiaj_gi7oI0/s72-c/IMG_0567.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-7542293856832871536</id><published>2008-10-17T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T21:13:18.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you only knew how many....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SPliXS13E-I/AAAAAAAAAQk/XYB-ias9QSM/s1600-h/IMG_0477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SPliXS13E-I/AAAAAAAAAQk/XYB-ias9QSM/s400/IMG_0477.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Oh, forget it.  That was a long time ago.  Now I only shoot photos.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-7542293856832871536?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/7542293856832871536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=7542293856832871536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7542293856832871536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7542293856832871536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-you-only-knew-how-many.html' title='If you only knew how many....'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SPliXS13E-I/AAAAAAAAAQk/XYB-ias9QSM/s72-c/IMG_0477.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-3907825441015790406</id><published>2008-10-07T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T10:25:41.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Landon 1, Yoda 0</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SOublHIPVlI/AAAAAAAAAO0/spBgtVqvFCs/s1600-h/IMG_0494.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SOublHIPVlI/AAAAAAAAAO0/spBgtVqvFCs/s400/IMG_0494.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a hard fought battle between two pint-size Jedi Masters, but you know, I will be darned if Landon with his brand new Mickey Mouse light-saber did not win.  Old Yoda just could not keep up with the moves, the parries, the thrusts.  Obviously, neither could the photographer!&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/27906729-3907825441015790406?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/3907825441015790406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=3907825441015790406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/3907825441015790406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/3907825441015790406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/10/landon-1-yoda-0.html' title='Landon 1, Yoda 0'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SOublHIPVlI/AAAAAAAAAO0/spBgtVqvFCs/s72-c/IMG_0494.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-6925885604797442060</id><published>2008-09-27T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T10:26:18.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please do not clap hands now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SN5sug_qlyI/AAAAAAAAAN4/CBpDWLC-tfo/s1600-h/IMG_0298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SN5sug_qlyI/AAAAAAAAAN4/CBpDWLC-tfo/s400/IMG_0298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &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/27906729-6925885604797442060?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/6925885604797442060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=6925885604797442060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6925885604797442060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6925885604797442060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/09/please-do-not-clap-hands-now.html' title='Please do not clap hands now.'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SN5sug_qlyI/AAAAAAAAAN4/CBpDWLC-tfo/s72-c/IMG_0298.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-6794719959671825027</id><published>2008-08-30T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T19:28:16.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where it all began</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SLoBwE_maBI/AAAAAAAAAMk/xUzfsPSKAtQ/s1600-h/IMG_0230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SLoBwE_maBI/AAAAAAAAAMk/xUzfsPSKAtQ/s400/IMG_0230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my little photo of the sacred grove in Palmyra, NY. I looked around the grove and thought this was as good as any place to kneel and pray. And while it was raining a bit on and off, I sat on a nice bench and just meditated a bit. I am convinced again that Joseph Smith really did see The Father and the Son on that spring morning in 1820. I am comfortable with his account and I am comfortable with the facts as he laid them out. My understanding is beyond just being informed, it is something that I just know.  I think it hit me when I was about 12 years old....and I still remember the feeling inside of something telling me that this was exactly the way it was to be.  Thank God that I was born so close to the truth and that all I had to do was listen and search, ponder and pray and it would be given to me.&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/27906729-6794719959671825027?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/6794719959671825027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=6794719959671825027' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6794719959671825027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6794719959671825027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/08/where-it-all-began.html' title='Where it all began'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SLoBwE_maBI/AAAAAAAAAMk/xUzfsPSKAtQ/s72-c/IMG_0230.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-2416038182144126858</id><published>2008-08-03T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:20.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Atten----hut!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SJYt0uExZ4I/AAAAAAAAALk/PTWzk2PI07Q/s1600-h/IMG_0098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SJYt0uExZ4I/AAAAAAAAALk/PTWzk2PI07Q/s400/IMG_0098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my glasses and took a picture of all of our family.  All those matching shirts with the stripes are just about to do me in.  Nonetheless, I got them quieted down long enough to say "cheese" and just look how still they stand.  Like little soldiers they filed into ranks and stood up so tall, you can see the light in their eyes.&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/27906729-2416038182144126858?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/2416038182144126858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=2416038182144126858' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2416038182144126858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2416038182144126858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/08/atten-hut.html' title='Atten----hut!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SJYt0uExZ4I/AAAAAAAAALk/PTWzk2PI07Q/s72-c/IMG_0098.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-8698175806845165935</id><published>2008-06-15T16:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:21.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering Father on Father's Day 2008.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SFWfKIMtFzI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0uhvIWZb5NA/s1600-h/Edward.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212247140099495730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SFWfKIMtFzI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0uhvIWZb5NA/s400/Edward.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some things that I would like people to know about my dad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  He died in 1979, too young.&lt;br /&gt;2.  He never got to see his grandkids do some really, really great things.&lt;br /&gt;3.  He never got to see his sons and daughters do some really great things either.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I thought he was stupid when I was a teen, but as I got older, he got a lot smarter.&lt;br /&gt;5.  He would always give you an opionion on how he felt about things.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Every memorial day, he would drive nearly a thousand miles just to visit his mother on or near her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Sometimes he would get mad at us and ask us questions and we would not know what he was talking about and when we started to laugh, he would get madder.&lt;br /&gt;8.  He would have shot the guy that raped my sister and he would have gone to prison for it.&lt;br /&gt;9.  He never allowed any of his kids or his nephews to hit a girl--ever. &lt;br /&gt;10.  He would drive six hours to watch  me play football in high school and then turn around and drive back home because he did not have the money for a motel.  I rode home with him every time I had the chance.&lt;br /&gt;11.  He used to take us shooting guns--and always tried to invite someone that did not have a dad to take them--then he divided the big-bore cartridges with all of the kids--even those that were not his own.&lt;br /&gt;12.  He hated bullies and more than once had to talk to a bully's father to let him know that if that man would not handle the problem--dad would handle him.&lt;br /&gt;13.  He was a democrat, but always voted for the conservative causes.&lt;br /&gt;14.  He loved the evening news broadcasts.&lt;br /&gt;15.  He also loved balogna sandwiches.  I cannot even bring myself to eat it any more.&lt;br /&gt;16.  He grew up poor and remained poor all of his life--but he did not owe any money to anybody when he died.&lt;br /&gt;17.  He wanted me to join the Navy.  I am glad that I did not do it.&lt;br /&gt;18.  He reluctantly paid for half of my mission, but shortly into it, told me that it was one of the best things he ever did.&lt;br /&gt;19.  He had a hard time adjusting to an automatic transmission.  In 1965, he bought his first auto transmission and one time hit the brake with his clutch foot...we laughed for an hour on that one. &lt;br /&gt;20.  He had one of the most interesting scars that I have ever seen.  I hated it, but it was interesting and it looked like he had been hit with an axe.&lt;br /&gt;21.  He had a funny way of showing his affection.  He told me he loved me only one time because it was so awkard.&lt;br /&gt;22.  He grew up without a father.  It scarred him for life, I think.&lt;br /&gt;23.  He loved to listen to HONKY TONK Piano music.&lt;br /&gt;24.  He was one of the best Deacon's quorum advisors that I ever knew of. &lt;br /&gt;25.  I never saw him wear a pair of Jeans.  He hated them.&lt;br /&gt;26.  He taught me how to box.  I would have never boxed seriously with him.  He would have kicked my rear.&lt;br /&gt;27.  I feel kind of bad that I laughed at him when his hammock broke.  He was in pain and I should have been more sensitive.&lt;br /&gt;28.  That same thing happened to me and my kids laughed too.  What was so funny about pain?&lt;br /&gt;29.  Dad usually had $120 to spend on Christmas.  He allotted $20 to each member of the family except himself. &lt;br /&gt;30.  He loved to read--just about everything and was one of the most well-informed people that I ever met.&lt;br /&gt;31.  He had a tooth pulled once--and then went to the state fair and bought an  ice cream cone with nuts...one of the little nut pieces got into the socket and he spent hours trying to get it out.  We finally had to stop at a store and get some tweezers for Mike to pluck it out.  He was the only one that would have the nerve.&lt;br /&gt;32.  When he lost patience, he would raise his voice.  The loudest I ever heard him yell was when Mike had the sniffles in a motel and he sat up and yelled "BLOW YOUR DAMN NOSE".&lt;br /&gt;33.  He taught us how to do a racing dive in a motel pool.  He lost his shorts down to the knees.&lt;br /&gt;34.  He had short, short hair long before it became a fashion statement.&lt;br /&gt;35.  He always wore a "gravy shirt" to Sunday dinner.  He knew he would dribble gravy on whatever shirt he wore so he wore the same one all the time.&lt;br /&gt;36.  I can still remember his social security number.&lt;br /&gt;37.  He had no use for certain people and would let them know if he thought they were on that list.  Almost everyone appreciated knowing it and became closer to him because of his candor.&lt;br /&gt;38.  I wish he had been able to ordain me to the priesthood.  I asked him and he felt unworthy to do it.&lt;br /&gt;39.  He loved a good practical joke.  He played them on my Grandpa all the time--and grandpa also loved a good practical joke.&lt;br /&gt;40.  He always rooted for the underdog.&lt;br /&gt;41.  He was more kind to other people than other people ever knew.&lt;br /&gt;42.  He always liked my wife better than he liked me.&lt;br /&gt;43.  If somone died and someone had to hear bad news, Dad was the one to tell the person.  He had a way of being strong during times like that.&lt;br /&gt;44.  He worked with me as a cub scout and we won a huge district contest by building an small model of a sail boat that would slide on ice.  The prize was $5 and great big Hershey bar.  He gave me the $5 and we shared the chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;45.  He had a good singing voice, but used it only to amuse us as kids.&lt;br /&gt;46.  He once purchased a camera and just about all of the photos are either sunsets or pictures of his kids in their Sunday best attire.&lt;br /&gt;47.  He loved shoes that were comfortable and he always made us try on his shoes to see how comfortable they were.  They were always a little sweaty and Ihated that.&lt;br /&gt;48.  He loved to watch the Saturday night boxing matches on TV and we watched the fight when Benny "Kid" Peret died in the ring.  He also always liked to watch his cousin "Hurricane Carter" fight. &lt;br /&gt;49.  When he took us to a restaurant, I could perceive that it was a financial hardship for him so I always ordered the hamburger without the cheese and never ordered a soda with my meal.&lt;br /&gt;50.  Sometimes, I would go home and he would be eating three pieces of white bread and drinking a glass of  milk.  He would explain that it was a "jam sandwich" which consisted of three pieces of bread JAMMED together. &lt;br /&gt;51.  He had no tolerance for long hair.  When he saw how long my hair was after my first year in college (1969) he told me to get a haircut and I did.&lt;br /&gt;52.  He quit spanking us very early on.  I think he hated it as much as we did, but I always knew he could take it up again...so I toed the line.&lt;br /&gt;53.  The hardest I ever heard him laugh wa in a movie in Oklahoma City.  He hardy-har-harred so loudly and openly that we had to move away from him--but not too far--because we thought me might have had a heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;54. He would never let us stop at that restaurant in TX that had the 60 oz. steak that you could get for free if you could eat it in one hour.&lt;br /&gt;55.  Once he bought two coconut cream pies at a bakery in Holbrook and drove them home to enjoy.  He had to brake to avoid hitting a dog and both of those pies slid off the seat and down to the floor of the car.  He was so upset that he drove back to Holbrook (80 miles) and bought two more.&lt;br /&gt;56.  Whenever he heard Benny Goodman play the clarinet, he would always tell me that he had a boy that he wished could play like that.&lt;br /&gt;57.  His hands were as thick as bricks and it was hard to shake hands with him.&lt;br /&gt;58.  He loved it when it rained and would often  go out in the car to meet a good rain storm.&lt;br /&gt;59.  He had no clue and hated driving on the Los Angeles freeway system.&lt;br /&gt;60.  Every time I smell printer's ink, I think of him.&lt;br /&gt;61.  Every time I see a lilac bush, I think of him.&lt;br /&gt;62.  Every time I see a confederate flag, I think of him.&lt;br /&gt;63.  He died at age 63.  As I said, it was way too young.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-8698175806845165935?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/8698175806845165935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=8698175806845165935' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8698175806845165935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8698175806845165935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/06/remembering-father-on-fathers-day-2008.html' title='Remembering Father on Father&apos;s Day 2008.'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SFWfKIMtFzI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0uhvIWZb5NA/s72-c/Edward.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-8228125529002053788</id><published>2008-04-15T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:21.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saddle up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAWCZr-Li7I/AAAAAAAAAKc/VMpGWVv4njQ/s1600-h/IMG_1520.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAWCZr-Li7I/AAAAAAAAAKc/VMpGWVv4njQ/s400/IMG_1520.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-8228125529002053788?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/8228125529002053788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=8228125529002053788' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8228125529002053788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8228125529002053788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/04/saddle-up.html' title='Saddle up!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAWCZr-Li7I/AAAAAAAAAKc/VMpGWVv4njQ/s72-c/IMG_1520.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-4274019199620554507</id><published>2008-04-13T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:21.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAJ1_7-Li5I/AAAAAAAAAJg/CCnulbPKqNs/s1600-h/IMG_1509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAJ1_7-Li5I/AAAAAAAAAJg/CCnulbPKqNs/s400/IMG_1509.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is a friend that dropped by the house to take advantage of a little flowering orchid tree we have in the front yard. I asked this "flutter-by" to pose in mid-air and let me snap a photo. Kind of it to be sure. I find myself really enjoying a beginning hobby of photography.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-4274019199620554507?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/4274019199620554507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=4274019199620554507' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4274019199620554507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4274019199620554507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/04/here-is-friend-that-dropped-by-house-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/SAJ1_7-Li5I/AAAAAAAAAJg/CCnulbPKqNs/s72-c/IMG_1509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-281127202980755182</id><published>2008-03-02T16:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three "pine" boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R8tM_d6Q-6I/AAAAAAAAAIo/YIVsQVgwrs8/s1600-h/IMG_1376.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173313250209627042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R8tM_d6Q-6I/AAAAAAAAAIo/YIVsQVgwrs8/s400/IMG_1376.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, as we race around the monopoly board, the three of us get to pass "GO" at the same time and we get to have a short reunion.  Such was the occasion in March 2008 when we gathered in St. Johns for the funeral of our cousin Andy Brown.  I cannot say that we are getting any younger, but it is clear that the only one that has any hair-growing talent is Mike--and that is on his chinny-chin-chin.  Still, though, we are the ORIGINAL Three Carter Kids.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-281127202980755182?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/281127202980755182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=281127202980755182' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/281127202980755182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/281127202980755182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/03/three-pine-boys.html' title='Three &quot;pine&quot; boys'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R8tM_d6Q-6I/AAAAAAAAAIo/YIVsQVgwrs8/s72-c/IMG_1376.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-4329050821042371737</id><published>2008-01-27T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So...here is the "after" picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R505p4tGh5I/AAAAAAAAAIE/YSL6dvXUU0g/s1600-h/pants.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160344139795433362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R505p4tGh5I/AAAAAAAAAIE/YSL6dvXUU0g/s400/pants.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I thought for the new year I would drop a few pounds.  So this is me after we go though the process.  Believe me, having to give up my subscription of Butter-Eater's Magazine will be the hardest part of it.  So far, we are doing well.  A little control of what goes in and a little excercise routine and I plan on getting right back to my original weight:  8 lbs. 6 oz.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-4329050821042371737?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/4329050821042371737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=4329050821042371737' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4329050821042371737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4329050821042371737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2008/01/sohere-is-after-picture.html' title='So...here is the &quot;after&quot; picture'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R505p4tGh5I/AAAAAAAAAIE/YSL6dvXUU0g/s72-c/pants.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-146348681995433075</id><published>2007-12-15T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quit leering at me like that!</title><content type='html'>I was trying to get a photo of a drop of water falling and I could not do it because&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R2QhRcnxtwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/iTgG3hb5m9M/s1600-h/december8,+2007+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R2QhRcnxtwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/iTgG3hb5m9M/s400/december8,+2007+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;this creature kept staring at me.  I thought it was E.T. at first, but then decided&lt;br /&gt;that it looked sort of like his brother Q.T. a little more.  There is a family resemblance, I think.&lt;br /&gt;Any-hoo, I thought I would post something a little different.  Now the challenge is out there...anyone see any faces in a tortilla, a bar of soap, a pancake or in a puddle of something?  If you do, blog it and we will make the appropriate commentary as to whether or not we think you are nuts.&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/27906729-146348681995433075?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/146348681995433075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=146348681995433075' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/146348681995433075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/146348681995433075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/12/quit-leering-at-me-like-that.html' title='Quit leering at me like that!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/R2QhRcnxtwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/iTgG3hb5m9M/s72-c/december8,+2007+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-2877795552663188286</id><published>2007-11-12T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith and hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkM7-hAjCI/AAAAAAAAAFs/IO_2Usp4oHY/s1600-h/IMG_0880.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkM7-hAjCI/AAAAAAAAAFs/IO_2Usp4oHY/s400/IMG_0880.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I love the Angel Moroni and in my mind's ear, I can hear that trump announcing the coming of the Lord.  My hope is that perhaps if there are some sound problems, maybe the Lord will give me a horn to blow.  I would go to Mexico and sound the trump and then I would go back home and take on a bride and sound it within the walls of my own home.  Then, as our kids grew up, I would keep sounding it.  I only seem to have one tune--but it is a perfect note.  Jesus is the THE CHRIST.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-2877795552663188286?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/2877795552663188286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=2877795552663188286' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2877795552663188286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2877795552663188286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/11/faith-and-hope.html' title='Faith and hope'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkM7-hAjCI/AAAAAAAAAFs/IO_2Usp4oHY/s72-c/IMG_0880.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-2183057666811447534</id><published>2007-11-12T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swirly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkLnehAjBI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ycx9e1e6dZ0/s1600-h/IMG_0929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkLnehAjBI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ycx9e1e6dZ0/s400/IMG_0929.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Counting small things has always been hard for me.  First, you lose count quickly and then when you go full-circle you never know where you started and where you ended.  Let the experts determine how many little tweedlies are swirling in this photo.  I can't do it.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&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/27906729-2183057666811447534?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/2183057666811447534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=2183057666811447534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2183057666811447534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2183057666811447534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/11/swirly.html' title='Swirly'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RzkLnehAjBI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ycx9e1e6dZ0/s72-c/IMG_0929.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-2359253108782519389</id><published>2007-11-01T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:22.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RyqsmWnO47I/AAAAAAAAAFc/m1eAWQStd2E/s1600-h/picasabackground.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RyqsmWnO47I/AAAAAAAAAFc/m1eAWQStd2E/s400/picasabackground.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;When I snapped this photo, I was just looking for an interesting photo of a blooming whatever-it-is in our yard.  This bug appeared for the shoot.  If anyone can tell me what kind of bug it is, I will send them an emailed photo of Batboy. I am one of those untrained photo enthusiasts with a camera that can do much more than I can.&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/27906729-2359253108782519389?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/2359253108782519389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=2359253108782519389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2359253108782519389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2359253108782519389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/11/picture-this.html' title='Picture this!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RyqsmWnO47I/AAAAAAAAAFc/m1eAWQStd2E/s72-c/picasabackground.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-6842013078527900817</id><published>2007-10-14T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is nothing that brings smiles to the faces of a bunch of ants like&lt;br /&gt;a smushed lizard.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RxKeyRVPDrI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sM88MpE9bNM/s1600-h/058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RxKeyRVPDrI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sM88MpE9bNM/s400/058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&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/27906729-6842013078527900817?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/6842013078527900817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=6842013078527900817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6842013078527900817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/6842013078527900817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/10/there-is-nothing-that-brings-smiles-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RxKeyRVPDrI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sM88MpE9bNM/s72-c/058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-1289714851552491562</id><published>2007-08-05T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that Boat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RrZiFrkyQdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/XfgXN1lkVic/s1600-h/boat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095367878152176082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RrZiFrkyQdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/XfgXN1lkVic/s320/boat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not all people own a boat. They do not deserve one. On account of lack of funds (me) or lack of time (me) or propensity to crash (it was not exactly a crash) into stationary objects (a bridge in plain view) or some other reason, a boat title has eluded me for all of my life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, nobody says that I cannot NAME a boat. Here is one that I thought appropriate for me after that unpleasant episode at the Balboa channel. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A boat has to have a good name--not one of those pasty little names. It should reflect something that has to do with something nautical, and a person's plight or actions. I might suggest "Little Toot" for Colman, but that name has been used. Or, perhaps, "helm-grabber" for Cameron for the way he wrenched control from me after only one small crash--er, accident.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then, there is Nick whose family packed up a day early and "Cast-off" so they could handle some pressing business. And Big Nathan--what would his boat name be? He likes to fish, he usually catches them, but all the good fisherman names seem to be taken. I think I will ponder that one a while and give him an interim name until a suitable one can be found. How about "light kicker" or "Landon Lubber" or "Seadog"? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Put you mind to it, but if you can get me a better name than under tow, I would appreciate it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Carl "Bridgekiller"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-1289714851552491562?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/1289714851552491562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=1289714851552491562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1289714851552491562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/1289714851552491562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/08/not-all-people-own-boat.html' title='Name that Boat!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RrZiFrkyQdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/XfgXN1lkVic/s72-c/boat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-2244859076555299258</id><published>2007-07-16T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifty-seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rpw23cAiyoI/AAAAAAAAADo/GBr1SCQDCW0/s1600-h/57th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088002005060995714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rpw23cAiyoI/AAAAAAAAADo/GBr1SCQDCW0/s320/57th.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 1950 was a good year.  Who would have thunk that a lop-eared kid would turn into such a lop-eared adult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks kids!  It was good to have steaks, salads, cake and good company!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-2244859076555299258?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/2244859076555299258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=2244859076555299258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2244859076555299258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/2244859076555299258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/07/fifty-seven.html' title='Fifty-seven'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rpw23cAiyoI/AAAAAAAAADo/GBr1SCQDCW0/s72-c/57th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-5853029291905294849</id><published>2007-07-07T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RpBNN1B7trI/AAAAAAAAADg/shJ2Lv9vkXo/s1600-h/Cherry+pits+and+stems+on+a+white+napkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RpBNN1B7trI/AAAAAAAAADg/shJ2Lv9vkXo/s320/Cherry+pits+and+stems+on+a+white+napkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084648879270114994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the whole world now interested in photograpy, I would like to introduce my first public offering.  If you like it, there are a whole bunch more cherries where those came from.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-5853029291905294849?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/5853029291905294849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=5853029291905294849' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/5853029291905294849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/5853029291905294849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/07/with-whole-world-now-interested-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RpBNN1B7trI/AAAAAAAAADg/shJ2Lv9vkXo/s72-c/Cherry+pits+and+stems+on+a+white+napkin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-4517337500022454392</id><published>2007-06-09T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrassling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RmrN_ycumMI/AAAAAAAAADI/q65f7dpn-pk/s1600-h/May+22,+2007+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074094425944004802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RmrN_ycumMI/AAAAAAAAADI/q65f7dpn-pk/s320/May+22,+2007+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a devotee of wrassling, I sometimes challenge the little guys who always seem to get the upper hand.  Here I am, thrown to the floor and then pinned to the ground by one of those grapplers who seems to delight in the victory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the time we were done with the match, my opponent was exhausted and made it home just in time for bed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What he does not know is that I was faking the whole time.  I am not the patsy he thinks I am.  I think I could take him in two out of three falls.  Ok, maybe three out of five.  How about seven out of nine?  Come on, Jacob...give me a chance will you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-4517337500022454392?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/4517337500022454392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=4517337500022454392' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4517337500022454392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/4517337500022454392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/06/wrassling.html' title='Wrassling'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RmrN_ycumMI/AAAAAAAAADI/q65f7dpn-pk/s72-c/May+22,+2007+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-120670276614517625</id><published>2007-05-25T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:23.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Multiple choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RlcZ8S8YEUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/kZJWoqP7QV0/s1600-h/Mountain+property.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068548429296701762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RlcZ8S8YEUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/kZJWoqP7QV0/s320/Mountain+property.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a test. Please describe what this photo best represents:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A.) The area between our cabin and the Davis Family Cabin that came perilously close to Christopher Creek, AZ and burned within five miles of our place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;B.) My stomach after eating the "two-alarm, three burner, habanero chicken" dish for lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;C.) The family of the second-place finish on American Idol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;D.) John McCain's temper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E.) Choose your own. I don't even care any more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-120670276614517625?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/120670276614517625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=120670276614517625' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/120670276614517625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/120670276614517625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/05/multiple-choice.html' title='Multiple choice'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RlcZ8S8YEUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/kZJWoqP7QV0/s72-c/Mountain+property.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-7026656534135981803</id><published>2007-03-10T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:24.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remind me again....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RfLrl_MfwQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/w3BfQlX5K1o/s1600-h/PERSONAL+LICENSE+PLATE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040349970832539906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RfLrl_MfwQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/w3BfQlX5K1o/s320/PERSONAL+LICENSE+PLATE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Remind me again why it is not a good idea to arrange for a personalized license plate over the phone with a person you suspect does not hear all that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Poppy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-7026656534135981803?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/7026656534135981803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=7026656534135981803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7026656534135981803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/7026656534135981803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/03/remind-me-again.html' title='Remind me again....'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RfLrl_MfwQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/w3BfQlX5K1o/s72-c/PERSONAL+LICENSE+PLATE.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-8629762353287249485</id><published>2007-02-23T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:24.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It can't get any better than this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rd9SvL-3tOI/AAAAAAAAABw/Ho6LImW7EQs/s1600-h/Chariot+race.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034833879047320802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rd9SvL-3tOI/AAAAAAAAABw/Ho6LImW7EQs/s320/Chariot+race.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, just as my eyes were slinking back under my eyelids for a final doze before bedtime, the remote control flicker (RCF) pulled up the last hour or so of BEN HUR.  How could I not sit there for another 45 minutes watching Charleton Heston kick that Roman guy's rear-end in the best chariot race ever to grace the big screen?  It all began with Ben arranging to race in the big event.  The Roman guy appeared just in time to showcase his new wheels--a set of "chariot cutters" that he got at their their version of E-BAY.  Sure enough, this cheater took a couple of guys out of the race and it boiled right down to Ben Hur and the Roman cheater.  Nip and tuck, tuck and nip!  Then that spoil-sport started beating Ben Hur with a whip!  The crowd roared with disapproval.  In time, Ben got the whip away from him and whatever-it-was took place to make the Roman guy lose control of his chariot and get smacked by a couple of lingering racers wiping up the rear.  How he wishes now he had not cheated!  He was dragged for a while.  Then he was trampled a bit and remained alive just long enough to see Ben drive by in the winning chariot and then taken into a gladiator holding place where Ben came in and lorded his victory over the dying man.  A classic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They just don't have chariot races like that any more do they?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-8629762353287249485?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/8629762353287249485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=8629762353287249485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8629762353287249485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/8629762353287249485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/02/it-cant-get-any-better-than-this.html' title='It can&apos;t get any better than this!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/Rd9SvL-3tOI/AAAAAAAAABw/Ho6LImW7EQs/s72-c/Chariot+race.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-5346811381082120230</id><published>2007-02-03T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T11:37:29.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things you should know about me.</title><content type='html'>1. I prefer black licorice over red.&lt;br /&gt;2. I prefer red licorice to beets.&lt;br /&gt;3. Beets make me gag.&lt;br /&gt;4. The strangest thing I ever ate was turtle.&lt;br /&gt;5. When I was a boy, I watched a guy slaughter a hog and I still remember thinking it was cool.&lt;br /&gt;6. I wanted a motorcycle as a kid, but was afraid to ask for one.&lt;br /&gt;7. I was the class clown.&lt;br /&gt;8. I never had warm gloves as a kid.&lt;br /&gt;9. The first time I ever fired a real gun was in second grade. There were no adults around.&lt;br /&gt;10. I prefer all cotton shirts with button-down collars.&lt;br /&gt;11. I buzzed my hair off in high school just to be different.&lt;br /&gt;12. I did not get straight A's my freshman year in college.&lt;br /&gt;13. I burned my hand as a kid whilst playing around with branding irons.&lt;br /&gt;14. I learned how to swear from my brother Mike.&lt;br /&gt;15. My favorite book as a kid was Tarzan of the Apes.&lt;br /&gt;16. I will never buy an auto with cloth seats again.&lt;br /&gt;17. I always worried about who our children would marry.&lt;br /&gt;18. I do not worry about who my children married.&lt;br /&gt;19. One year, I read the Book of Mormon sixteen times just to see how many times I could.&lt;br /&gt;20. I have fear that I will not be first for something.&lt;br /&gt;21. My wife is the best grandmother in the world.&lt;br /&gt;22. I don't think I have ever gone to a movie alone.&lt;br /&gt;21. I have never been stung by a bee.&lt;br /&gt;22. I never had a new bicycle until Brooke bought one for me.&lt;br /&gt;23. When I first get into the ocean, I always think how many people have died in the water.&lt;br /&gt;24. I never sleep on my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;25. If I drank a glass of milk, then wanted water, it would not bother me to not rinse the glass.&lt;br /&gt;26. I can count on one hand the times I have used a public toilet. I think they are filthy.&lt;br /&gt;27. One of those times was in the Ladies room at the SLC airport.&lt;br /&gt;28. It was a mistake, not a planned event.&lt;br /&gt;29. I once mistook horseradish for sour cream at a business luncheon and ate a whole baked potato with horseradish so that no one knew of it.&lt;br /&gt;30. I still have a pocket watch that my grandpa gave me when I was about nine years old.&lt;br /&gt;31. I have more hair than both my brothers put together.&lt;br /&gt;32. That is not saying much.&lt;br /&gt;33. I thought I had a nice singing voice until we got a Karaoke system.&lt;br /&gt;34. Unfortunately, I like to be the center of attention and it embarrasses my wife.&lt;br /&gt;35. Las Vegas does nothing for me.&lt;br /&gt;36. I was a good missionary.&lt;br /&gt;37. I once won a ride in an airplane for something I did in scouting.&lt;br /&gt;38. I hated scouting other than that.&lt;br /&gt;39. If I had to choose the one person in the world to pray for me, it would be my wife Brooke.&lt;br /&gt;40. I once threw a rock at a ground squirrel and it vomited up cantaloupe seeds when I hit it.&lt;br /&gt;41. I prefer stream fishing over lake fishing.&lt;br /&gt;42. I am a gizmo guy. I like all kinds of gizmos.&lt;br /&gt;43. I am interested in a whole lot of things, but I do not have much knowledge of anything.&lt;br /&gt;44. From the first day I started in the insurance business, I have never thought about changing.&lt;br /&gt;45. My favorite kind of pen is and always be a fountain pen with a broad nib.&lt;br /&gt;46. I never learned to program a VCR.&lt;br /&gt;47. When I got my first BBQ, Brooke had to put it together because I hate reading instructions.&lt;br /&gt;48. I prefer to buy things assembled.&lt;br /&gt;49. If I had a pigeon in my yard, I would not hesitate to shoot it.&lt;br /&gt;50. On Saturdays, I prefer not to wear socks.&lt;br /&gt;51. I find it difficult to believe that a person sweats a cup of water through their feet each day.&lt;br /&gt;52. My mom was the one that instilled within me a desire to seek the gospel truths.&lt;br /&gt;53. I once sat next to Richard G. Scott in the temple and gave him the armrest between seats.&lt;br /&gt;54. I cannot listen to any kind of music for too long a time.&lt;br /&gt;55. CB radios intrigued me, but I never could think up a good "handle" for myself.&lt;br /&gt;56. If I got a dreaded disease, I would probably want to know about it when I had just a very short time to live.&lt;br /&gt;57. I think I would never have the guts to go skydiving.&lt;br /&gt;58. I am glad that I never served in the military.&lt;br /&gt;59. I was in the hospital once and it was so boring, I read the same book three times. (State Fair)&lt;br /&gt;60. When the movie SHANE comes on, I always try to watch it because it was my dad's favorite movie.&lt;br /&gt;61. Sometimes I think about my little sister and wonder what she was thinking when she pulled out in front of a big truck and lost her life.&lt;br /&gt;62. More than once, I have asked the Lord to take my life in trade for something that I wanted badly for one of my family members.&lt;br /&gt;63. I would rather be half an hour early than one minute late.&lt;br /&gt;64. There is nobody I know who has a memory for the mundane that is better than mine is.&lt;br /&gt;65. When I die, if I have the respect of my kids, that is good enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;66. I made the hundreth point in a basketball game when I was in high school.&lt;br /&gt;67. Out of respect for my wife, I reserve eating sardines for when I am camping.&lt;br /&gt;68. If you need a guy to go with you camping just to cook on a dutch oven, I am your man.&lt;br /&gt;69. I could never figure out how they got those little ships in a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;70. I can stare at a fire, at rain, or at a grandchild and you'd think I was in a trance.&lt;br /&gt;71. If I were in a movie and they told me "wait right here", I would not wait right there.&lt;br /&gt;72. I could probably eat sandwiches three meals a day.&lt;br /&gt;73. My favorite breakfast is soft-boiled eggs over toast.&lt;br /&gt;74. I once won a trophy for public speaking.&lt;br /&gt;75. If a strange person borrowed by comb or nail clippers, I would not ask for them back.&lt;br /&gt;76. If my wife passed away, I would not remarry...I am a one-woman man.&lt;br /&gt;77. I was always afraid I would get hit in the head with a hard ball.&lt;br /&gt;78. Having an animal in my house is unsettling to me.&lt;br /&gt;79. Before 2007 is over, I would like to prepare and serve a "seafood or crab boil".&lt;br /&gt;80. If I were an archer, I would prefer the longbow to the compound bow.&lt;br /&gt;81. Since I met my wife Brooke, I have eschewed Jerry Lewis movies out of respect for her.&lt;br /&gt;82. I may annoy my daughter, but I have always tried to breathe out of my nose.&lt;br /&gt;83. I hope nobody ever gives me opera tickets.&lt;br /&gt;84. I hate the sensation of getting my teeth polished.&lt;br /&gt;85. I would have a hard time washing someone else's feet.&lt;br /&gt;86. I consider video games a monumental waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;87. Every now and then, you need a real good chili dog.&lt;br /&gt;88. Chocolate milk made with non-fat milk is chocolate water in my view.&lt;br /&gt;89. I have always taken pride in doing things the hard way.&lt;br /&gt;90. I love cutting wood with a chain-saw, but I usually end up bleeding in some way.&lt;br /&gt;91. My top drawer has a number of useless things in it, but I would not want to toss them away.&lt;br /&gt;92. When I am in very, very crowded group of people, I try to fold my arms to avoid touching othes on the rear end.&lt;br /&gt;92. I have about a hundred jokes that my family has heard a million times.&lt;br /&gt;93. I took the cap off our little steam-cleaning machine too early and got a faceful of hot water that made me wonder how stupid I really am.&lt;br /&gt;94. I would have been a lousy woodworker.&lt;br /&gt;95. If I had the guts, I would wear my hair even shorter than I do now.&lt;br /&gt;96. People say you shouldn't stare. I do anyway.&lt;br /&gt;97. If I needed to use the bathroom and was locked out of the house....I would not hesitate to go outdoors.&lt;br /&gt;98. In the past, when I tried to communicate with a deaf person, I found myself speaking Spanish to him..as if that would somehow help!&lt;br /&gt;99. I will not make any promises about coming up with a hundred thing list again.&lt;br /&gt;100. My favorite express is now and has been for a long time...SHEESH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-5346811381082120230?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/5346811381082120230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=5346811381082120230' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/5346811381082120230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/5346811381082120230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/02/some-things-you-should-know-about-me.html' title='Some things you should know about me.'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-998615457638382540</id><published>2007-01-20T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:59:25.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This ain't no bull!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RbJ0t_5MkhI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wwdN_BLlvps/s1600-h/Nathan"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022204868065792530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RbJ0t_5MkhI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wwdN_BLlvps/s320/Nathan%27s+Birthday+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It could have been in the past, but it isn't any longer.  This little tray of thick little beauties was the centerpiece of a good family meal for Nathan Carter's fourth Birthday.  These were made even better by Nick's meddling with them whilst they were on the grill.  Then, Courtney had one of her hallmark salads to go along with it. &lt;br /&gt;In all humility, it was one fine steak and salad combo.  For my birthday, I want the same thing, but with a little TRES LECHES dessert for the birthday cake.  Like my daddy used to say, "if there were better food, the Lord would have kept it in heaven."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-998615457638382540?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/998615457638382540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=998615457638382540' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/998615457638382540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/998615457638382540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-aint-no-bull.html' title='This ain&apos;t no bull!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ok3kv5V700A/RbJ0t_5MkhI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wwdN_BLlvps/s72-c/Nathan%27s+Birthday+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-116277660290172086</id><published>2006-11-05T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T17:30:02.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Carter Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.azcarters.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Carter Family&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-116277660290172086?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/116277660290172086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=116277660290172086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116277660290172086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116277660290172086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/11/carter-family.html' title='The Carter Family'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-116276977134236527</id><published>2006-11-05T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T15:36:11.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Colman and I decided to get serious about our Mariachi music.  We went down and bought a couple of serapes, and a used harp and a couple of Pancho Villa sombreros and we are ready to perform.  Anybody needing a one-song performance...call us pronto.  Cu cu ru cu cu Paloma already.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/1600/mariachi.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/320/mariachi.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-116276977134236527?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/116276977134236527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=116276977134236527' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116276977134236527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116276977134236527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/11/colman-and-i-decided-to-get-serious.html' title=''/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-116144470237179013</id><published>2006-10-21T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T08:31:42.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is taking sooooooo long!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/1600/Progress%20on%20the%20yard%20012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/320/Progress%20on%20the%20yard%20012.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deal with construction is that it always takes longer than expected and it is always going to be a little costlier than supposed.  I know too that when it is done in a few weeks, we are going to turn on the super turbo, grill some shrimps, get some rootbeer out of the refrigerator (the outdoor one that will be built into the barbecue island and we can enjoy it all together.  I will get some thick rib-eyes and cook them to your likings.  Rare?  Yes, they will be rare--it is rare to get them to be this delicious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-116144470237179013?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/116144470237179013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=116144470237179013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116144470237179013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/116144470237179013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/10/it-is-taking-sooooooo-long.html' title='It is taking sooooooo long!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-115957517130266412</id><published>2006-09-29T17:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T17:12:51.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stairway to Heaven?  Get off of my cloud!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/1600/doggone%20it%21.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1417/2923/320/doggone%20it%21.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now why on earth would I want to buy a wicker basket stair case to allow the family pooch to get on top of my bed? I spent the better part of our dog's life (RIP) trying to keep him off the furniture and for sure I did not want him on my bed. That is my bed, doggone it! I do not want a nice warm spot where Spot laid all afternoon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-115957517130266412?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/115957517130266412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=115957517130266412' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115957517130266412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115957517130266412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/09/stairway-to-heaven-get-off-of-my-cloud.html' title='Stairway to Heaven?  Get off of my cloud!'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-115656971630642943</id><published>2006-08-25T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T22:21:56.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poppie's newzzzzz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.carlosangeles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Poppie's newzzzzz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so tonight we baby sat for the two littlest grandchildren.  Just as the parents left the house for their night out, the competition began.  I felt like I was helpless.  So, Brooke had to tend three helpless babies. &lt;br /&gt;They are so cute!  Their little punkin' heads are so beautiful and they are precious little souls--just like their four older cousins.&lt;br /&gt;Note to file:  Always make sure that Brooke is here if I am asked to watch the babies.  She has that magic touch with these and can put them to sleep in an instant.  I am still learning how to hold them without breaking them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-115656971630642943?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/115656971630642943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=115656971630642943' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115656971630642943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115656971630642943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/08/poppies-newzzzzz.html' title='Poppie&apos;s newzzzzz'/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27906729.post-115067649242957020</id><published>2006-06-18T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T17:21:32.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is your father speaking.  Let it never be said that he did not suffer for his children.  In fact, he took suffering to a greater level and always quotes the bible where it says, "let the chidren suffer" or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;It is Father's day.  Now that my kids are grown, they better give something worthy of me--not that cheap crap they used to buy with MY money.  You know, the goggles with the springy-ping-pong balls or some stupid tie.  I want them real, and expensive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we will open gifts, and I will post them and let the free world be the judge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27906729-115067649242957020?l=carlosangeles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/feeds/115067649242957020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27906729&amp;postID=115067649242957020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115067649242957020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27906729/posts/default/115067649242957020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carlosangeles.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-is-your-father-speaking.html' title=''/><author><name>Carlos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01194518551292460691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
