<?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-1751111132184531866</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:31:10.224-07:00</updated><category term='ready for spring'/><category term='teenagers'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='arts'/><category term='preferences'/><category term='theater'/><category term='agent rejections'/><title type='text'>Minerva's Musings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-2961831642836963460</id><published>2009-10-08T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T15:02:19.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rewind, Fast Forward, How do I Pause?</title><content type='html'>After several years of child abuse, our VCR broke.  My kids are pretty hard on things, which is rather irritating, so I decided not to buy another one for a while and let the kids feel the effects of their mistreatment of the a/v equipment.  That lasted about a week.  I hadn't realized how often I use movies as a crowd control mechanism.  So we bought another.  None of the buttons were in the right places.  We fast forwarded when we meant to rewind and rewound when we meant to pause.  I was muttering about it when it hit me that my life has been just like that ever since we moved to Idaho.  No wonder I'm so tired.  Even though I've tried to plan things so they happen one at a time, they just spin forward or reel backwards willy nilly and I have absolutely no control over it.  I guess I should be used to it by now, because somehow, everything always ends up happening at the same time.  I'm still looking for the pause button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, since I last posted, Trevor finished his Eagle Project, the kids started school, I edited a dissertation and passed my CNA exams.  I started my Pathophysiology and Genetics classes and started working two days a week in BirthPlace at Pullman hospital (I love working there and now realize that I really want to be a nurse.  I was able to help prep a patient and watch a c-section on my second day - it was so cool).  My parents came for a visit and they were an amazing help while we did our landscaping. I can't wait for our little orchard to bear fruit.  We have three cherry trees, two pears, two plums, an apple and a peach.  We'll plant another apple and peach tree next spring along with a windbreak, two more maple trees, a bunch of firs and spruce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor is loving his new driving freedom and is keeping his grades up so he keeps those privleges.  He is also busy trying to raise funds for his band trip to Disney Land over spring break, so if anyone needs to renew any magazines, please let us know in the next few days.   The fundraiser ends next Thursday.  Lindsey is doing well in school and has suddenly discovered that when she brushes her hair and looks put together, the boys notice her.   Jeff and I are not at all sure that this is a good thing because she is very pretty and a pro at manipulating boys (she's had lots of practice with her brothers).  Jeff asked me if I wanted to home school her again.  I just smiled and assured him that no, I'd rather not, and reminded him that keeping her home would not stop her from growing up.  He's missing his sweet little princess who has been replaced by an imperious diva.  I think we're in for a few painful years.  The younger boys are all doing fine.  Jared wants to go to school every day and gets really upset when he is left behind.  Nathan loves kindergarten and doesn't like being picked up at lunch time either, unless I take him to the park or McDonald's.  The kid has great bargaining skills.  Tyler and Evan are enjoying scouts and Tyler still loves to draw.  He also had a great time disassembling the broken VCR.  He found a toy car, a penny, a dried up string cheese, lots of Legos, and a pencil inside.  Hmmm...maybe that's why it broke?   Sorry, no pics this time.  I don't have time to download them to my laptop.  I'll try to do so before my next post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-2961831642836963460?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/2961831642836963460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=2961831642836963460' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2961831642836963460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2961831642836963460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/10/rewind-fast-forward-how-do-i-pause.html' title='Rewind, Fast Forward, How do I Pause?'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3221169763022024780</id><published>2009-08-17T09:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T10:27:04.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomOQSOldUI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/DPWz7hBZnZc/s1600-h/August+2009+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomOQSOldUI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/DPWz7hBZnZc/s400/August+2009+040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980441038091586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY!  We've finally moved in.  The last month has been so insanely b&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomQ9WWh1OI/AAAAAAAAAUw/8HtWQG08g9Q/s1600-h/August+2009+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomQ9WWh1OI/AAAAAAAAAUw/8HtWQG08g9Q/s400/August+2009+045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370983414262519010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;usy that I probably would've had a nervous breakdown if my mom hadn't come to help out for a couple weeks.   But saint that she is, she booked a flight and came to my aid.  Of course, her house sold the week after she booked the flight and the ticket was non-refundable, so my relief was layered with a lot of guilt.  But I think they'll get packed in time for their August 30th closing date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 36-hour CNA clinicals were scheduled the same week that we were trying to finish the house, schedule bank and county inspections, and&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomPFPNgCbI/AAAAAAAAAUY/ptn4hUIm8Fg/s1600-h/August+2009+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomPFPNgCbI/AAAAAAAAAUY/ptn4hUIm8Fg/s400/August+2009+041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370981350761302450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; pack.  Needless to say, we dropped into bed dead tired every night and I'm sure I wasn't the best company.  But my mom was a saving grace, as were the friends who watched Jared and Nathan so we could actually get something done on the days I wasn't working 12 hour shifts for free (a serious flaw in clinical education as far as I'm concerned, but then again, most of my classmates are eighteen and don't have anyone to worry about except themselves).  I didn't make much progress on the packing front until August and even then, it was mostly throwing things in laundry baskets and re-using them in nonstop runs back and forth.  The result of all of this stress is the stranger in the mirror whose drawn, shell-shocked expression would be alarming if I had the time to care.  I suspect that with more sleep, she'll go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff started classes today an&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomPYgWiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUg/WnfCVyM1o2E/s1600-h/August+2009+039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomPYgWiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUg/WnfCVyM1o2E/s400/August+2009+039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370981681780114802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d the two online classes I'm taking start next week.  The kids don't start until September 2nd (happy birthday to Rachel).  In between now and then, I'm hoping to finish unpacking and help Trevor get his Eagle project done.  We'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the work has paid off though.  The house is gorgeous.  The appraised value is about $100K more than our cost, so I suppose sweat equity isn't as mythical as I was beginning to suspect.  However, I don't want to find out what the difference is between appraised value and market value.  If I have to move again anytime in the next decade, I will be a seriously unhappy camper.  Anyhow, enjoy the pics.  Dreaming about a new house and planning to build one is much more fun and infinitely less work than actually building it.  But like all difficult experiences, once the pain has passed, the memory fades and the intensity of the experience softens.  So now, I'm going to enjoy it.    The coolest part is that everything looks better in this house.  Even my old junky furniture looks somewhat respectable.  YAY.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomQbRAtt6I/AAAAAAAAAUo/lk-o75oDx9s/s1600-h/August+2009+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomQbRAtt6I/AAAAAAAAAUo/lk-o75oDx9s/s400/August+2009+042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370982828713293730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we have a nice place to live, come visit anytime!  Check out the view from the front porch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3221169763022024780?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3221169763022024780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3221169763022024780' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3221169763022024780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3221169763022024780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/08/at-last.html' title='At Last!'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SomOQSOldUI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/DPWz7hBZnZc/s72-c/August+2009+040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6504076326602477759</id><published>2009-07-19T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T22:31:16.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Home Stretch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP4VPwC5WI/AAAAAAAAATw/1eD9tqfwWCo/s1600-h/july+2009+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP4VPwC5WI/AAAAAAAAATw/1eD9tqfwWCo/s400/july+2009+107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360401025390011746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never liked running much - the pounding in my poor knee joints and that stitch in my ribs just didn't do much for me.  But the part I hated most was that I always had to run in circles around a track.  I mean seriously, what was the point?  If I have to go through a lot of pain, I'd at least like to arrive at a destination or see some concrete results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last post, I've been running against the calendar to get this house done.  All day, every day, I run from one thing to the next towards that end goal, and then fall into bed completely exhausted.  The upside is that I've been running towards something and I have concrete results to show for it; and I mean that quite literally.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP2ym7inWI/AAAAAAAAATg/vcWxNaTGkBQ/s1600-h/july+2009+109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP2ym7inWI/AAAAAAAAATg/vcWxNaTGkBQ/s400/july+2009+109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360399330805194082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We now have a concrete pad for our garage, back patio, and front porch.  Yay.  We also have the stone fireplace done, all the doors in (complete with doorknobs), the kitchen island finished, all the plumbing and electrical trimmed out, a balcon&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP38vTLyxI/AAAAAAAAATo/PJXcEx_8FG0/s1600-h/july+2009+105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP38vTLyxI/AAAAAAAAATo/PJXcEx_8FG0/s400/july+2009+105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360400604362165010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y railing which makes the upstairs hall SO much safer for the kids and all the baseboards installed.  Jeff will start painting the exterior tomorrow while the carpet installer puts carpet in the one room that still needs flooring.  After that, I have to put the last coat of polyurethane on the hardwood stairs and then we have to install the railing.  Then we clean everything while the garage doors are being installed on Wednesday and put one more coat of polyurethane on the hardwood floors on Thursday.  Once the exterior trim is painted, steps are built from the garage to the house, and shelving is installed in the front and master closets, we're done.  Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP43cI1R_I/AAAAAAAAAT4/hoGSmQ2iRoM/s1600-h/july+2009+111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP43cI1R_I/AAAAAAAAAT4/hoGSmQ2iRoM/s400/july+2009+111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360401612830754802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're hoping to get everything done this week so the appraiser can come a week from Monday and we can close on Friday.   Here's hoping it works out that way.  We just have to make it through this home stretch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a few minutes to memorialize our family on the edge of the front porch.  Everyone pressed their hands into the wet cement by age.  Jared &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP6MMMJfYI/AAAAAAAAAUA/sSggqGyOQM8/s1600-h/july+2009+115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP6MMMJfYI/AAAAAAAAAUA/sSggqGyOQM8/s400/july+2009+115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360403068838575490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;gave me the weirdest look, like, 'you WANT me to get messy?'   Then he freaked out as we pushed his hands into the cement.  I guess we should've gone oldest to youngest so he'd know what to expect before his turn came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday, I found another nail in the gravel driveway.  Or rather, the tire did.  After working ten hours on the house, I got a flat.  Frustratingly enough, the jack was too short to actually lift the tire off the ground since it kept sinking into the gravel road.  Of course, I forgot my cell phone&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP7zeFfrEI/AAAAAAAAAUI/hC53Nrtv4nY/s1600-h/july+2009+116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP7zeFfrEI/AAAAAAAAAUI/hC53Nrtv4nY/s400/july+2009+116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360404843169033282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; too, so I had to walk back to the house to get Jeff and the truck.  I think I passed that patience test, though.  I didn't yell, scream, cry, curse, or kick the car.  I only sighed.  But as I walked back to the house, I noticed the wheat waving in the breeze, the swallows chirruping as they swooped above the field, and the clear, bright blue sky and was reminded how lucky I was to be able to live here.  It is absolutely beautiful.  Maybe the flat was worth it after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6504076326602477759?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6504076326602477759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6504076326602477759' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6504076326602477759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6504076326602477759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/07/home-stretch.html' title='The Home Stretch'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SmP4VPwC5WI/AAAAAAAAATw/1eD9tqfwWCo/s72-c/july+2009+107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5857593549937857520</id><published>2009-06-01T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T02:38:45.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seeing the Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOe2c1U9cI/AAAAAAAAAS4/3ZmBn_EY5tQ/s1600-h/april-may+pics+2009+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOe2c1U9cI/AAAAAAAAAS4/3ZmBn_EY5tQ/s400/april-may+pics+2009+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342288241281529282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light at the end of the tunnel, light upon a hill,  light in the darkness, light up my life - so many metaphors ran through my head as I stood in the chilly drizzle and watched the crew put in the power line to my house.  A wide swath of smooth mud showed where the excavator tracks slid down the hill and nearly dumped the whole machine into the trench.  It was tense.  But as the crew drove away and I squelched my mud-caked boots into the garage, I could hardly wait to 'light it up.'  Or not.  I flipped the switch and...nothing.   Did you know that there's a breaker before the breaker box?  I didn't.  But no&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOfHgl2uOI/AAAAAAAAATA/-ddXY4kVupM/s1600-h/april-may+pics+2009+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOfHgl2uOI/AAAAAAAAATA/-ddXY4kVupM/s400/april-may+pics+2009+024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342288534348151010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;w I do.  I also learned that even really good electricians sometimes mess up.  So we have power everywhere except the upstairs because there's a little problem the electricians have to fix this week.  After using a generator for power all winter long, it's amazing what a luxury it is to simply plug into an outlet.   The same goes for water.  After months of lugging water every day, we now have an operating well pump.  And even though the plumber won't do the trim-out until June 8th, we can use the faucet in the yard to pull it, however reluctantly, out of the bedrock.  I'm looking forward to having an operating toilet.  Port-a-potty's stink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tile is completely done too - floors, tub surround, shower surround and master bathroom countertop.  Hallelujah.  If I don't cut another tile for a decade, it will be too soon.  The master bathroom does look amazing, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've set the cabinets and put on the concrete substrate for the stone face of the chimney.  Jeff installed the shower doors and storm doors while I cleaned.  Home construction offers a whole new definition of mess.  We've hauled all the chimney stone to the front porch and most of the hardwood flooring is stacked and awaiting installation which begins tomorrow.  Oh yeah, the pasture is now seeded in hay too.  I'm going to bed.  It's 2 a.m.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOgchT8hEI/AAAAAAAAATY/W4cS8e1fmHY/s1600-h/april-may+pics+2009+220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOgchT8hEI/AAAAAAAAATY/W4cS8e1fmHY/s400/april-may+pics+2009+220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342289994830349378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOgKvaB5cI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ne7U2PuNDv4/s1600-h/april-may+pics+2009+219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOgKvaB5cI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ne7U2PuNDv4/s400/april-may+pics+2009+219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342289689376318914" 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/1751111132184531866-5857593549937857520?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5857593549937857520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5857593549937857520' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5857593549937857520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5857593549937857520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/06/seeing-light.html' title='Seeing the Light'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SiOe2c1U9cI/AAAAAAAAAS4/3ZmBn_EY5tQ/s72-c/april-may+pics+2009+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6098749267830865086</id><published>2009-05-03T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T22:35:15.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding Back the Spring</title><content type='html'>Okay, you know how I complained all winter about the snow and yearned for a bit of spring?  Well all that snow has given me a lot a spring right now - about a ten gallon-a-minute spring to be exact.  Yep, we hit a freshwater spring on Saturday when Jeff was excavating the utility trench.  The real kicker is that the gusher wasn't thirty feet from the spot where we tried to drill a well last fall and never hit water.  I'm smiling....still smiling...if I stop smiling, I might cry.  We need power at the house and the electric company won't put in the line if there is any standing water so we have a real problem.  The trench is a three foot deep pond right now.  Jeff always wanted a pond, I just never thought he'd get one.  Surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I took a picture, but can't find my camera's transfer cable.  Hmmm...maybe I'll organize my office.  That is, if I can find the time.  I have to get the tile laid in the kitchen and bathrooms this week so I can take delivery of the cabinets.  I also have to finish packing the hardwood flooring into the house so the boards will dry out in time to install them.  I'm just hoping that I'll still have skin on my fingertips by next weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6098749267830865086?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6098749267830865086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6098749267830865086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6098749267830865086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6098749267830865086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/05/holding-back-spring.html' title='Holding Back the Spring'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1309347940857488061</id><published>2009-04-12T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T23:51:46.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Boy and SuperBunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLc2eCl6KI/AAAAAAAAARw/wWxKvKGtu2Y/s1600-h/april+12+09+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLc2eCl6KI/AAAAAAAAARw/wWxKvKGtu2Y/s400/april+12+09+107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324060537840330914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to stop apologizing for not keeping up with everything and just realize that it's not going to happen in the near future.   Oh well.  I'm trying.  The last month has been crazy - as always.  My mom and a family friend, Dave, flew in on the same day at the end of March.  Dave left a few days later, but my mom stayed to help me tile our bathrooms (they look beautiful) and then most of us got sick.  Stomach flu, how fun.  So Jeff spent his birthday hugging a trashcan and Jared puked nonstop and couldn't enjoy his birthday cake.  They recovered, but then it was my turn, and let me tell you, I felt every aching joint in my body.  I hope that wasn't a glimpse of what old age feels like, 'cause it wasn't much fun.  Seriously, even though I know I'm not getting any younger, I HOPE that I'm spry until the very end.  I want to be a globetrekking grandma.  Yes, I still dream of traveling, but I need to get the house done first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLbxWPnToI/AAAAAAAAARo/wvvz-TCeCq4/s1600-h/april+12+09+103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLbxWPnToI/AAAAAAAAARo/wvvz-TCeCq4/s400/april+12+09+103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324059350336491138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff finished painting the interior of the house yesterday.  It looks wonderful.  So now on to flooring and setting the stone front of the fireplace.  We're getting there, albeit a little slowly.  Illnesses and bad weather haven't helped, but we're moving past both of those now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLfNJcNUhI/AAAAAAAAAR4/F2g8WAuuS0I/s1600-h/april+12+09+117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLfNJcNUhI/AAAAAAAAAR4/F2g8WAuuS0I/s400/april+12+09+117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324063126470873618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week Jeff's parents arrive for a visit and for Evan's baptism, I'll hand over the keys of our van to the couple who is buying it, and I'm hoping to finish up a grant that Jeff is trying to submit to NIH (I'm crossing my fingers on that one).  The NIH grant process is a bureaucratic mess hidden in an unnavigable maze of forms and 100+ page procedure manuals.  If I'm lucky, I'll get it all done and start on the floor tile, but we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, howev&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLf5vX06EI/AAAAAAAAASI/Mg0rZ7uTCIM/s1600-h/april+12+09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLf5vX06EI/AAAAAAAAASI/Mg0rZ7uTCIM/s400/april+12+09+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324063892567287874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;er, was fun.  Nathan turned five and between Easter candy and birthday cake, Jared was flying high.  Literally.  He decided to be SuperBunny, who apparently, flies and plays the harmonica.  Unfortunately, the harmonica happened to be one of Nathan's birthday gifts.   No one got hurt (thank goodness) and when we finally convinced Jared to give back the harmonica and sit still, we enjoyed watching Tales of Desperaux as a &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLgN8wZRbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6IoNBLJP2MQ/s1600-h/april+12+09+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLgN8wZRbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6IoNBLJP2MQ/s400/april+12+09+064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324064239757378994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1309347940857488061?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1309347940857488061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1309347940857488061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1309347940857488061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1309347940857488061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/04/birthday-boy-and-superbunny.html' title='Birthday Boy and SuperBunny'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SeLc2eCl6KI/AAAAAAAAARw/wWxKvKGtu2Y/s72-c/april+12+09+107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-2106770256644130868</id><published>2009-03-16T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T19:47:42.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Working Spring Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8IoHIM5OI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/B60NUmNkTyg/s1600-h/house+3-09+077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8IoHIM5OI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/B60NUmNkTyg/s400/house+3-09+077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313975570521711842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is taped and Trevor, Jeff and I spent the first day of Spring Break masking the windows and taping the electrical boxes.  Trevor wasn't too happy.  He got this bored 'yeah, figures' look when I asked him to work at the house, and he used the word 'whatever' a lot, but he worked mostly without complaint. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big upside is that we've gotten this far despite the six inches of snow that fell last week.  But it's snowing again as I type this, so I can only hope that I can make it up the driveway tomorrow.  I was driving the truck, but unfortunately, the transmission died.  So now we get to tow the truc&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8I3lKWkyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/N0T6DGfch4o/s1600-h/house+3-09+080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8I3lKWkyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/N0T6DGfch4o/s400/house+3-09+080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313975836281836322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;k to a transmission shop and fork over as much as the truck is worth just so we can keep driving it.  Ugh.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff primed the lid with the vapor barrier paint that we have to use for our rafter-type roof and then started to paint the walls.  The paint sprayer jammed.  He cleaned it and it jammed again.  So, now we're a bit behind, but  oh well, there isn't much we can do about it.  Someone from the place we rented it from is coming to take a look at it tomorrow, so hopefully, we'll get the primer applied without too much delay. If not, I might be the one painting because Jeff is taking the Boy Scouts on a campout later this week.  I'm just hoping for a week of dry weather sometime soon.  It has rained or snowed nearly every day since December.  I am SO ready for spring.  The beautiful weather on my birthday was a big tease.  It's been miserably cold and wet ever since.  Having had a taste of what's to come, waiting is ever so much harder now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8IVF2TTtI/AAAAAAAAAQs/sKcQmU8kbhA/s1600-h/house+3-09+084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8IVF2TTtI/AAAAAAAAAQs/sKcQmU8kbhA/s400/house+3-09+084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313975243760684754" 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/1751111132184531866-2106770256644130868?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/2106770256644130868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=2106770256644130868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2106770256644130868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2106770256644130868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/03/working-spring-break.html' title='Working Spring Break'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sb8IoHIM5OI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/B60NUmNkTyg/s72-c/house+3-09+077.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3787510523813493728</id><published>2009-03-08T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T22:27:58.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me - and Will</title><content type='html'>I really wasn't looking forward to this birthday.  Maybe its because Trevor is driving now and I'm not really sure how the last decade flew by, maybe it's just a byproduct of stress, or maybe it's all those wrinkles that just appeared out of nowhere, but thirty-seven suddenly seemed very old.  Evan informed me that we didn't have enough candles for my cake so I needed to buy a couple more boxes and with the miserably wet, cold weather, I wanted to curl up in bed and hide until Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I woke up to a glorious sunshiny day complete with breakfast in bed and decided that it was going to be a good day after all.  I mean, how often does a mom get Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream served to her without getting out of bed, and on a Wednesday too?  Not very.    Yep, Jeff's a keeper.  He also gave me the most amazing printer.  I love it.  It's so much easier to use than my recently broken-beyond-repair printer that's been slowing dying for a year.  It also has some cool features like photo printing right from the memory card and wireless printing from my laptop - no more plugs to jockey.  Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I spent the rest of the day catching up with friends, reading My Fair Godmother (a really cute book), eating my favorite foods, and ordering cabinets for my house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I got the call telling me that I had a new nephew.  So Will and I share a birthday now - Happy Birthday to us!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thanks everybody.  Your friendship and love made my day, and week, and month.  Well, my whole life actually.  It would be a lonely life indeed without such wonderful people to share it with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3787510523813493728?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3787510523813493728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3787510523813493728' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3787510523813493728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3787510523813493728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-to-me-and-will.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me - and Will'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-2989422290383416306</id><published>2009-03-03T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:17:28.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuses, excuses...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1mDQUJ9HI/AAAAAAAAAQk/qHkfr6kRY8U/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1mDQUJ9HI/AAAAAAAAAQk/qHkfr6kRY8U/s400/031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309011741844829298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I ever catch up with everything so I can stop making excuses when I let something slip? I hope so. So I won't say how busy it's been or how I've chosen sleep over blogging. I won't mention that my family has been extra needy lately or that simplifying has meant cutting out a lot of things I usually take in stride. I won't make excuses for being lame and not keeping in touch. I'll just apologize. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's what I have been doing:&lt;br /&gt;1.  The insulation is done.&lt;br /&gt;2.  The siding is done.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I personally fixed the leaky back doors.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I ordered and scheduled delivery of the drywall and hired contractors to put it up because Jeff doesn't have time.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I filed our federal and state taxes (so I can pay the drywall contractors).&lt;br /&gt;6.  I selected and ordered cabinets.&lt;br /&gt;7.  I wrote and mailed a writing grant for myself.&lt;br /&gt;8.  I caught up on laundry, but of course, I'm un-caught up again.&lt;br /&gt;9. I shoveled an entire truck load of gravel by myself to keep our driveway passable until we get around to fixing it properly (I am so sore).&lt;br /&gt;10. I registered for the Praxis.&lt;br /&gt;11. I detailed our van to try and sell it.&lt;br /&gt;12. I paid bills.&lt;br /&gt;13. I packed and helped Jeff, Tyler, and Evan get on the road to attend Grandma Seegmiller's funeral.&lt;br /&gt;14.  I helped Trevor get ready for his band trip to Canada.&lt;br /&gt;15.  I helped Lindsey complete her make up homework and her GPA has nearly doubled.&lt;br /&gt;16. I survived being driven home by Trevor who shouldn't drive the truck again until he gets a lot more experience; it was terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;17.  I let Lindsey help me highlight my hair.  It's now orange.  I laughed, I cried, and I'm dying it brown later today.&lt;br /&gt;18.  I fed everybody, said prayers with them, and gave them lots of hugs and kisses.&lt;br /&gt;19. I finally remembered to re-charge my camera batteries.&lt;br /&gt;20. I noticed the earthy smell in the air and felt a surge of hope.  Spring is almost here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1iZumu0_I/AAAAAAAAAQU/2R7Zm3CUJ8w/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1iZumu0_I/AAAAAAAAAQU/2R7Zm3CUJ8w/s320/024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309007729886417906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1i61evGNI/AAAAAAAAAQc/PygPCvf3psY/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1i61evGNI/AAAAAAAAAQc/PygPCvf3psY/s320/027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309008298667612370" 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/1751111132184531866-2989422290383416306?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/2989422290383416306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=2989422290383416306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2989422290383416306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2989422290383416306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/03/excuses-excuses.html' title='Excuses, excuses...'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sa1mDQUJ9HI/AAAAAAAAAQk/qHkfr6kRY8U/s72-c/031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-2058497864109843086</id><published>2009-02-17T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T21:12:18.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warm fuzzies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuQFbPhg5I/AAAAAAAAAPc/JmzfEN9wrj8/s1600-h/house+2-09+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuQFbPhg5I/AAAAAAAAAPc/JmzfEN9wrj8/s400/house+2-09+048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303991409045504914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's one of the stacks of insulation delivered to our house yesterday.  As the installers sealed the windows and filled the cracks, I just smiled.  I think I drove the crew crazy pointing out places they missed with the expanding foam, but hey, it's my house and my dime, so it had better be done right.  Right?  After a winter of freezing in this old uninsulated farm house, I am so ready to move into one that will be warm.  I felt warm and fuzzy today just seeing those lovely R-38 batts go into the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuVrhyLfPI/AAAAAAAAAP0/x3rQo0O7WXA/s1600-h/house+2-17-09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuVrhyLfPI/AAAAAAAAAP0/x3rQo0O7WXA/s400/house+2-17-09+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303997561194642674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drywall will be delivered on Thursday and the siding contractor tells me he will be done on Friday, so we're moving along.  The biggest problem is that we still don't have power to the house because the power company can't put it in until all the snow is melted and the mud has dried out.  So if everyone could pray for an unusually warm dry spell early in March, I'd appreciate it.  I still haven't figured out how to control the weather;)  But maybe the Lord will bless us with a cooperative forecast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned something new about garages last week.  Standard eight foot garage door openings don't work for large pick up trucks (like Jeff's) or large SUV's like the Sequoia we're hoping to trade our van in for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had someone come out and give me bid to install our garage doors and after seeing me bounce up the gravel drive in Jeff's truck, he told me it wouldn't fit in the garage.  So I measured, and yep, sure enough, Jeff's truck measured 7'11" from mirror to mirror and the garage door opening was 8'.  So Saturday and Monday Jeff and I had the dubious pleasure of removing the hea&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuSdogDJjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/SKHHK4O6YoI/s1600-h/house+2-17-09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuSdogDJjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/SKHHK4O6YoI/s400/house+2-17-09+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303994023944594994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;der, cutting the foundation and enlarging the garage door openings.   It was an absolute pain, but I figure in the long run, it will be worth it.  Otherwise, we (okay, probably me) would've smashed a lot of side mirrors.   But at least we found out before the siding was finished.  It would've been worse to fix later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-2058497864109843086?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/2058497864109843086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=2058497864109843086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2058497864109843086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2058497864109843086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/02/warm-fuzzies.html' title='Warm fuzzies'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SZuQFbPhg5I/AAAAAAAAAPc/JmzfEN9wrj8/s72-c/house+2-09+048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7037718367123005052</id><published>2009-02-08T15:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:12:45.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoofing the Roof</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SY9rsvLcW1I/AAAAAAAAAO8/HbeePXCDISk/s1600-h/early+feb+pics+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SY9rsvLcW1I/AAAAAAAAAO8/HbeePXCDISk/s400/early+feb+pics+031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300573702761241426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a shot Lindsey took of me standing on the roof while I spoke with our roofing contractor.  As you can see, I wasn't wearing the most practical footwear.  I was wearing a skirt too so it was really interesting climbing out of the window and back in again.  But despite further snow delays, the roof is completely done.  YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below the finished roof, you can see the scaffolding that was used to install the siding.  The installer has moved to the south side of the house now and I hope the weather will cooperate so it can be completed soon.  The insulators will come sometime between the 16th and 20th.  After the insulation is inspected, we'll start the sheetrock.  And when I say we, I mean that quite literally.  We will hire some additional help for the vaulted ceilings, but for the most part, Jeff and Trevor will be hanging it and Jeff and I will be taping.  Sounds fun huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SY9sXhhjyCI/AAAAAAAAAPE/RpYqWUYbB8o/s1600-h/early+feb+pics+127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SY9sXhhjyCI/AAAAAAAAAPE/RpYqWUYbB8o/s400/early+feb+pics+127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300574437830281250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because there is so little work in the construction sector, I get calls all the time from people wondering if I'm hiring.  Unfortunately, labor costs have not dropped and may have actually risen since people are trying to make ends meet.  I understand that problem.  Really I do.  But why anyone thinks we're any different is beyond me.   It's only in the government and business sectors where people can write themselves huge raises, and even then, usually only the upper echelons.  Well, I'd like a raise.  I think it's high time that the government recognized the contribution that stay-at-home mothers give to society and offer some compensation.  I mean, moms who work outside their homes get to deduct day care expenses.  Why not offer a set allowance, say $6,000, for every child four and younger and then families can choose whether to offset their household expenses or pay that money to a day care provider?   Ah yes, that's right, the government is too busy handing out money to greedy bank executives who don't know how they'll manage without their million dollar bonus this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm off my soapbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we took the kids ice fishing at a local reservoir.  The Idaho Dept of Fish and Game hosted an ice fishing tournament.  We left with three fish, two ice fishing rods the kids won at raffle prizes and a bluebird box.  It was fun, but I have to admit I was REALLY nervous walking out on that ice.  I could see huge cracks running in the ice and the top was slushy.  Then as I watched Jeff auger through a solid foot of ice, I realized that the cracks must have happened months ago and then frozen in place.  The ice didn't even groan yesterday, despite a hundred kids thundering across it's surface as they ran around enjoying the sunshine, not to mention the perforations every fifteen feet or so from hopeful anglers.  However, I have new appreciation for the courage it must have taken those pioneers to step onto the ice and walk across the Mississipi river without a sure knowledge of how thick the ice in that middle section might or might not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor didn't join us yesterday because of his wrestling tournament.  He injured his shoulder and needs at least a week to heal.  He can't be out of commission too long because he has sheetrock to hang.  However, Jeff says its just a Grade II strain so it should only take a week to heal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7037718367123005052?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7037718367123005052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7037718367123005052' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7037718367123005052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7037718367123005052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/02/hoofing-roof.html' title='Hoofing the Roof'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SY9rsvLcW1I/AAAAAAAAAO8/HbeePXCDISk/s72-c/early+feb+pics+031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1667921030420140585</id><published>2009-01-28T23:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T00:07:26.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Tyler!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SYFelgBonyI/AAAAAAAAAOA/n3IflAjC-LQ/s1600-h/Tyler%27s+10th+Birthday+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SYFelgBonyI/AAAAAAAAAOA/n3IflAjC-LQ/s400/Tyler%27s+10th+Birthday+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296618635109375778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler invented a new favorite cake.  His instructions were, "Mom, I want a cake that tastes like a maple bar."  So that's what I made.  Here is the pic of his artery-clogging, incredibly rich, maple cake with chocolate trimmings.  I think I gained three pounds just making it.   It was a low-key birthday.   He wanted a party, but mid-week birthdays are tough and we're already booked this weekend, so we'll have an unbirthday party for him some time in February.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finally feeling better.  Whatever virus caught me, did not want to let go.   Trevor has it now, and Evan is just getting over it.  Now that the arctic air has blown eastward to freeze my friends in the midwest (sorry about that), I'm hoping some sun and warmer temps will aid our recovery.  I know the balmy 40 degree weather predicted for the rest of this week will lift my spirits in a way that -2 just didn't.  Here's hoping the gopher predicts an early spring.  Sixty and seventy degree weather sounds much more appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our siding contractor recovered from pneumonia and has started on the house.  Here's a pic I snapped this morning of the walk-out basement area.  He already finished the front dormer windows, but I forgot to take a picture of them.  So I'll do that tomorrow when I drop off a door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SYFhFGkAPWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/UtfeIJHwPew/s1600-h/Tyler%27s+10th+Birthday+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SYFhFGkAPWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/UtfeIJHwPew/s400/Tyler%27s+10th+Birthday+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296621377053277538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The University is still in crisis mode, but for now, it appears that Jeff still has a job.  Whew!  That is a huge relief.  Thanks for keeping us in your prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1667921030420140585?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1667921030420140585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1667921030420140585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1667921030420140585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1667921030420140585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-birthday-tyler.html' title='Happy Birthday Tyler!'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SYFelgBonyI/AAAAAAAAAOA/n3IflAjC-LQ/s72-c/Tyler%27s+10th+Birthday+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7613272347025349796</id><published>2009-01-18T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T15:45:49.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One step at a time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO4GZO59cI/AAAAAAAAAM4/JgOOKuU6Dlo/s1600-h/jan+pics+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO4GZO59cI/AAAAAAAAAM4/JgOOKuU6Dlo/s320/jan+pics+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292776407082595778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the doors we installed yesterday.  Aren't they pretty?  It was kind of tricky, because open the door and there's eleven feet of air.  Watch that first step!  Trevor climbed a ladder and helped from the outside while Jeff and I maneuvered the doors through the rough openings and set them in position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO7KyMs3aI/AAAAAAAAANQ/3msT4erIZ4Y/s1600-h/jan+pics+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO7KyMs3aI/AAAAAAAAANQ/3msT4erIZ4Y/s320/jan+pics+017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292779781038595490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot has happened on the house lately.  The HVAC installers, electricians, and roofer are almost done and all should be complete this week.   My siding contractor has pneumonia, though, so I haven't any idea when he will be well enough to start working again.  If it takes too long, I'll have to find someone else so he doe&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO5l6zjBgI/AAAAAAAAANA/-dP83o6SEfk/s1600-h/jan+pics+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO5l6zjBgI/AAAAAAAAANA/-dP83o6SEfk/s320/jan+pics+018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292778048182224386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sn't hold up the whole project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will just be so wonderful to live in a house that is WARM.  We've been freezing in the drafty old barn.  It helps that the weather has been milder lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the home front, things have been interesting - as always.  Trevor will soon have his driving permit, so maybe I should take out extra life insurance.  Lindsey is still struggling with so many different teachers with different expectations, but she's learning to handle it better.  The younger boys are all doing well, but I can't wait for Spring when I can send them outside to play.  Their raw energy is sometimes a bit much in confined spaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayers on Jeff's behalf would be appreciated though.  The University is responding to the current economy by freaking out and slashing programs.  Jeff's teaching position spans two departments.  The one department is secure, with no cuts in the immediate future, but the athletic training program is on the chopping block.  Nothing would happen right away, but if the program is cut, he could only have a job here for another two years while they teach out the recently admitted students.   This is the worst-case scenario.  The more likely case is that he would keep his job and just be re-assigned to teach different classes in lieu of athletic training.  However, uncertainty does not make for restful sleep or easy days, and he is stressed.  Of course, being in the middle of building a house doesn't help either.  But we have faith that, somehow, it will all work out.  We just have to take it one step at a time - but not out the back doors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7613272347025349796?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7613272347025349796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7613272347025349796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7613272347025349796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7613272347025349796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-step-at-time.html' title='One step at a time'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SXO4GZO59cI/AAAAAAAAAM4/JgOOKuU6Dlo/s72-c/jan+pics+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1645726114677254331</id><published>2009-01-11T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T22:29:46.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm a complete sap.  I heard the song &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Godspeed, Sweet Dreams&lt;/span&gt; by the Dixie Chicks and started tearing up.  I love it.  It captures a little of what I feel when I tuck my boys in every night.  I've posted a link below.  Don't look at Natalie Maynes' weird punk-rocker get up, just listen to her amazing voice singing this prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWaqB3Hy908&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWaqB3Hy908&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWaqB3Hy908&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, the snow is melting and we're supposed to have sunny skies this week.  YAY!  That means our roof might get finished.  The electricians show up tomorrow and my new HVAC installer started last Thursday.  So by the end of the week, our house should be roughed in.  I'll post pics as soon as I replace my camera's batteries and keep you posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1645726114677254331?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1645726114677254331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1645726114677254331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1645726114677254331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1645726114677254331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/01/sweet-dreams.html' title='Sweet Dreams'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-4691254012818329717</id><published>2009-01-04T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T21:26:37.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>A very belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  I've been off the blogosphere and focused on my family over the holidays.  It's been very low-key and restful - exactly what we needed.  Of course, that's partly because we've been snowed in, but we're pretending that we meant it to be that way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids alternated between playing in the snow and playing with their new toys.  Nathan and Jared have enjoyed their Rescue Heroes and Power Rangers.  Lindsey, Tyler and Evan have done pretty well sharing the Nintendo DS.  I was feeling really bad that we couldn't buy one for each of them, but then I changed my mind.  I think this will be an extremely effective way for them to learn to share.  They don't want me to take it away, so they are learning to work out their differences instead of running to me every three minutes. As far as I'm concerned, this is the true gift.  Wouldn't our world be a better place if everyone learned how to work out their differences with words instead of lawsuits and weapons?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor plays flight simulator whenever he isn't chopping wood, straining his muscles at wrestling practice, or driving with his driver's ed teacher. His driver's ed teacher has some serious guts.  He takes them out driving in the most miserable weather.  Trevor said one of the girls in his group ran over a garbage can, hit a mail box, and slid off the road into a ditch - all in one day.  Trevor hasn't done any of those things yet, so I'm hoping that means he'll be a good driver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've learned that living out in the country has its drawbacks.  Especially when we don't own a snowplow or tractor.  Even if the roads are clear, it's doubtful our driveway will be.  And our new house?  Forget it.  There's a solid two feet of snow covering all nine hundred feet of driveway.  We've been hiking up and sledding down when we need to do something up there.  After tonight's and tomorrow's storms, we'll hire someone to plow it out. But since it'll be at least another foot of snow, it will have to be plowed out with a caterpillar bulldozer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, nothing has happened on the house lately.  I fired the HVAC installers who kept giving me excuses and then told me it would be $2,000 more than what they bid.  The new installers will start this week - after the driveway is cleared.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff's classes start tomorrow and he is a bundle of nerves.  Any prayers on his behalf are appreciated.  His performance this semester will weigh heavily in his application for tenure.  So that's what we've been doing.  I didn't send out Christmas cards this year because I just had too much on my plate.  I'll try to get my act together for next Christmas.  Or maybe I'll send letters out mid-year instead.  We hope you all enjoyed a wonderful holiday and hope your New Year is off to a good start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-4691254012818329717?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/4691254012818329717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=4691254012818329717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/4691254012818329717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/4691254012818329717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-8679789616762577847</id><published>2008-12-16T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:30:18.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>C-C-C-C-Cold</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUioUjNpbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/J0mDEl8TDRY/s1600-h/12-15-08+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUioUjNpbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/J0mDEl8TDRY/s320/12-15-08+020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280655634095238178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like Siberia outside.  At -12 with the windchill, we aren't venturing out much.  We have ice on the INSIDES of the windows in the house we're living in and there's a pretty stiff breeze blowing through the frames too (the seals, if they ever existed, are bad).  I'm dreading my electric bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the up side, the windows of our new house are excellent, and there's no breeze blowing through them even without siding, sheetrock, or insulation.  Now if I can just get the HVAC installer to get moving with the ductwork, the electrician will come in right after.  The power company tied our line into the grid today in balmy eleven degree weather.  I felt so bad for them having to be &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUioiRbxBQI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dOF49W3rLK0/s1600-h/12-15-08+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUioiRbxBQI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dOF49W3rLK0/s320/12-15-08+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280655869840786690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;out in the cold, but then I remembered that they're charging me $5,000 to do it, and suddenly felt much less sympathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HVAC installers were supposed to be there too, but they didn't show.  I've learned a lot about how good communication mak&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUio0qK8FUI/AAAAAAAAAMY/2X1E3RJNis4/s1600-h/12-15-08+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUio0qK8FUI/AAAAAAAAAMY/2X1E3RJNis4/s320/12-15-08+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280656185718740290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;es everything go smoother during construction, unfortunately, my HVAC installers haven't learned this yet.  They'd better call me back tomorrow, or I'll hunt them down and it won't be pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, Trevor turned the big 1-5 yesterday.  We just had a quiet family celebration with clam chowder, rolls, grapes and German chocolate &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUiqapRUqiI/AAAAAAAAAMw/9uO2liI1OsA/s1600-h/trevor%27s+b-day.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUiqapRUqiI/AAAAAAAAAMw/9uO2liI1OsA/s320/trevor%27s+b-day.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280657937823738402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;cake.  Jeff took Trevor out driving.  Six months and he gets his license, yikes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-8679789616762577847?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/8679789616762577847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=8679789616762577847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8679789616762577847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8679789616762577847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/12/c-c-c-c-cold.html' title='C-C-C-C-Cold'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUioUjNpbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/J0mDEl8TDRY/s72-c/12-15-08+020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3648658335970598266</id><published>2008-12-14T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T23:13:54.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A dish of humble pie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUX8xk9Ny4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/aLy0DqtL5xo/s1600-h/house+12-1-08+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUX8xk9Ny4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/aLy0DqtL5xo/s320/house+12-1-08+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279904066825997186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is further along than this picture, but I forgot my camera all week and then when I remembered it, the batteries were dead.  And that's just about how the last two weeks have gone.  I've been trying SO HARD to make everything work, but Murphy's Law keeps interfering.  Anyhow, the good news is that the last window was installed just as the flakes started falling on Friday and we are more or less dried in. Now if the Tyvek will just stay on.  Jeff spent all day Saturday securing the part that blew off during the storm Friday night.  3000 staples later, it better not budge.  However, I'm not sure if it's waterproof anymore either.  The plumber finished his rough plumbing on Thursday and the electrician arrives tomorrow - if he can make it up the hill through the snow drifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared reached a new record for destruction this week.  He climbed a shelf and grabbed Trevor's hunting knife.  He then proceeded to attack the LCD screen of our TV.  He's still alive.  Okay, that's an exaggeration, I didn't hurt him, I didn't even spank.  I felt like it though.  It was all I could do to quietly take the knife and walk away until I calmed down.  But between him and issues with our house-building project, I nearly went over the edge.  Thankfully, Jeff pulled me back and I'm more or less dealing with things in a positive way again.  However, if any of you want a toddler for a week, or a month (heck, we could even try two), give me a call.  And please, tell him in a decade or so that he needs to buy us a new TV.  But in the mean time, no more sword-fighting shows for that kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciate the calls, prayers, and support from those of you who helped me through the challenges of the last two weeks.  I thought I could manage everything on my own, and each day was a new helping of humble pie.  I'm sure it was good for me - like liver, and bananas - but I don't like them either.  Ah well, what doesn' t kill me will make me stronger, right?  I'll post more pics tomorrow.  Trevor turns 15.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3648658335970598266?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3648658335970598266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3648658335970598266' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3648658335970598266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3648658335970598266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/12/dish-of-humble-pie.html' title='A dish of humble pie'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SUX8xk9Ny4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/aLy0DqtL5xo/s72-c/house+12-1-08+014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5960534775284062785</id><published>2008-11-30T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T17:32:13.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SLOW GOING</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/STM6FeLP12I/AAAAAAAAALw/kHoImGEAX0I/s1600-h/Nov+house+pics+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/STM6FeLP12I/AAAAAAAAALw/kHoImGEAX0I/s320/Nov+house+pics+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274623454254978914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain, rain, go AWAY!  Ugh!   Our construction site is a bog.  The mud is three feet deep in some areas with more rain forecasted.  I wish our roof was on.   Right now it's about half-way done.  If we can get the house completely sheathed, then maybe I won't have to keep vacuuming out the pond that keeps forming in our basement.  The windows arrive tomorrow, so I'm hoping the roof and wall sheathing will get done and wrapped so the windows can be installed this week.  But we'll see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where the house was at on Tuesday.  More of the back roof sheathing has been done since this shot was taken as well as the interior stairs from the main level to the upper level.   I'&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/STM7em8FG5I/AAAAAAAAAL4/S9SzeBZmZ-4/s1600-h/Nov+house+pics+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/STM7em8FG5I/AAAAAAAAAL4/S9SzeBZmZ-4/s320/Nov+house+pics+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274624985615637394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;m constantly surprised at how much things cost.  When did everything get so ridiculously expensive?  See this large piece of equipment?  It's called a Grade-All and rents for $360 per day.  Isn't that crazy?  I'm just really hoping we won't need it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving was delicious, but relatively quiet.  I think we needed a quiet day.  Thank you Diane for sending the recipe for your fantastic artichoke dip.  It was delicious.  We were humbled to reflect on the bounteous blessings the Lord has given us.  We are grateful to have such wonderful friends and family who so greatly enrich our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5960534775284062785?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5960534775284062785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5960534775284062785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5960534775284062785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5960534775284062785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/11/slow-going.html' title='SLOW GOING'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/STM6FeLP12I/AAAAAAAAALw/kHoImGEAX0I/s72-c/Nov+house+pics+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-825872941186921674</id><published>2008-11-23T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T17:37:53.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mud, guts, and more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSnyzljhNiI/AAAAAAAAALY/-u64ZDLyXzE/s1600-h/November+23+2008+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSnyzljhNiI/AAAAAAAAALY/-u64ZDLyXzE/s320/November+23+2008+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272011806882215458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's where the house was as of Friday.  It was really muddy (yes, we had more rain) so sorry about the bad camera angle.  Cute port-a-potty, huh?  We had to brace it because the wind kept knocking it over.  Anyhow, the roof should be sheathed before Thanksgiving and once the Tyvek and roof felt are on, the plumber, HVAC installers, woodburning stove, and electrician can all come in.  The roofer will start on Friday if the weather holds.  So far, we've been blessed with fairly good fall weather and I'm still hoping to get dried in before the snow flies.   Here's a shot of the back of the house taken on Tuesday before the garage trusses arrived.  Life has been busy - like always - and filled with unexpected complications.  Like that fact that our septic outlet line was accidentally crushed and now has to be replaced and we've been taking turns being sick.  My turn came yesterday and today.  I haven't gotten enough sleep lately, so I guess it was inevitable, but I'm anxious to get my energy back and for my headache to go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSn3SVwLDtI/AAAAAAAAALg/caqydLnsnoM/s1600-h/November+pics+from+Jeff%27s+camera+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSn3SVwLDtI/AAAAAAAAALg/caqydLnsnoM/s320/November+pics+from+Jeff%27s+camera+044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272016733262778066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jeff and Trevor went hunting last week and the friend they went with shot a buck.  Jeff and Trevor are going back to try for one of their own.  It's too bad they didn't buy an elk tag.  We discovered a large swath of hoofprints not 200 yards from our new house.  Jeff waited around yesterday to find out what animal made them and found himself being stared down by about twenty elk.  They were all female, but the males can't be that far away.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSn7sEjaONI/AAAAAAAAALo/SWzpDBj0r_0/s1600-h/November+pics+from+Jeff%27s+camera+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSn7sEjaONI/AAAAAAAAALo/SWzpDBj0r_0/s320/November+pics+from+Jeff%27s+camera+055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272021573368953042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey and I saw Twilight on Friday.  She didn't like it nearly as much as the book.  I thought the book was better, but liked the movie too.  The casting was excellent.  I just wish they had cut some of the cheesy dialog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-825872941186921674?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/825872941186921674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=825872941186921674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/825872941186921674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/825872941186921674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/11/mud-guts-and-more.html' title='Mud, guts, and more'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SSnyzljhNiI/AAAAAAAAALY/-u64ZDLyXzE/s72-c/November+23+2008+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7499339417541450045</id><published>2008-11-09T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T15:32:11.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vader and Yoda (aka Jasper and Edward)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdxDSjUWsI/AAAAAAAAALA/tR-24YdZy8U/s1600-h/pics+11-08+711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdxDSjUWsI/AAAAAAAAALA/tR-24YdZy8U/s320/pics+11-08+711.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266802590566603458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet the newest members of our family.  Yes, they're adorable and so funny.  They wrestle and chase each other and generally act like the boys that they are.  What to call them though. Hmmm. That's been an issue.  You see, Lindsey is all Twilight crazed and counting down to the movie release.  So to her, the black one is Jasper and the tabby is Edward (I suggested Emmett, but no one agreed with me).  However, since we live in a testosterone saturated house and are outnumbered three to one, Lindsey and I lost the name vote.  So the black cat is Vader and the tabby is Yoda, but Lindsey and I never call them by those names.  The really weird thing is that Jeff and Trevor actually like them (although they won't admit it).  The kittens were cuddled in Jeff's lap when I snapped the pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdx7aqDrsI/AAAAAAAAALI/E6kTbMweKQA/s1600-h/pics+11-08+705.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdx7aqDrsI/AAAAAAAAALI/E6kTbMweKQA/s200/pics+11-08+705.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266803554815028930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Construction is going slow, but it is going.  If only it would STOP RAINING!  Ugh.  Two solid weeks of the wet stuff with temperatures hovering within ten degrees above freezing.  I think I need to give our framers a Christmas bonus.  The joists should be up this week and the roof arrives on Friday.  Of course, plans may change if the mud slick that is our construction site becomes a swamp.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdyPq9ZTeI/AAAAAAAAALQ/9a1F7jqcHiY/s1600-h/pics+11-08+706.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdyPq9ZTeI/AAAAAAAAALQ/9a1F7jqcHiY/s320/pics+11-08+706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266803902788488674" 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/1751111132184531866-7499339417541450045?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7499339417541450045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7499339417541450045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7499339417541450045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7499339417541450045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/11/vader-and-yoda-aka-jasper-and-edward.html' title='Vader and Yoda (aka Jasper and Edward)'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SRdxDSjUWsI/AAAAAAAAALA/tR-24YdZy8U/s72-c/pics+11-08+711.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7976907660915247413</id><published>2008-11-01T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T15:16:51.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October Run</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzSvUxXzHI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/3BFb4RxNxq4/s1600-h/construction+docs+10-08+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzSvUxXzHI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/3BFb4RxNxq4/s200/construction+docs+10-08+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263813774960741490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly believe it's November already - where did the days go?  I guess that's what happens when I'm running to keep up with everything, and not quite making it (Run Jen, run!).  Things like dates and calendars and a sense of balance fly out the window.  Unbalanced though my life may be right now, it is never boring.  And I am keeping up, albeit, but the tips of my fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home construction is coming along without any major blips except the rain toda&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzTAdsVhvI/AAAAAAAAAKY/-VVeNiqIwlM/s1600-h/construction+docs+10-08+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzTAdsVhvI/AAAAAAAAAKY/-VVeNiqIwlM/s200/construction+docs+10-08+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263814069413316338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y.  So we slogged through the mud to 'clean up' our construction site, tracking great clods of goo as we went.  We collected and sorted cans, cardboard, stray nails and a variety of other things into piles and put the cases of unopened nails, caulk, and lumber under tarps.  Now, even if it rains all weekend long, nothing should get damaged.  I'm just hoping the wind doesn't kick up, or we could be tracking those tarps all the way to Montana.  We also have a huge pile of stubby little pieces of lumber that we'll burn for a bonfire as soon as it dries out again.  We don't have much light pollution here and at night, it's an amazing fresh air planetarium.  I think it will be a lot of fun to roast marshmallows around a bonfire and get the kids excited about living there and then bank the fir&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzTbXPN1KI/AAAAAAAAAKg/QCvBucNnTVg/s1600-h/construction+docs+10-08+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzTbXPN1KI/AAAAAAAAAKg/QCvBucNnTVg/s200/construction+docs+10-08+054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263814531537032354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e and watch for meteorites.  Right now, they just complain about the work (although not too loudly). But honestly, all in all, everything is going rather well. All the sub-contractors I've hired so far have been excellent.  Our framers did a fantastic job on the basement and took extra pains to level the walls since the concrete slab wasn't.  The next level should go up much more quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor threw his first official party last night.  He has a really sharp group of friends and they came and hung out in the basement for five hours playing games and watching Nacho Libre and Monty Python and &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzUJ7t9C0I/AAAAAAAAAKw/YSAFTvWPz3w/s1600-h/construction+docs+10-08+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzUJ7t9C0I/AAAAAAAAAKw/YSAFTvWPz3w/s200/construction+docs+10-08+055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263815331603614530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the Holy Grail.  They apparently find these movies hilarious, but I think they're beyond stupid.  Maybe the combined effects of exhaustion and sugar alter teenage boy brains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other kids thought Halloween was a bit lame, but mostly because of the rain.  They carved pumpkins and we put lightsticks in them so they glowed in different colors.  Lindsey's owl pumpkin turned our really well.  They all dressed up and we wen't to church for a one hour trunk or treat.  It was cold.  It was wet.  Thank goodness it was short.  Then those of us not incl&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzT3iacHwI/AAAAAAAAAKo/x1ilLQnFUCE/s1600-h/construction+docs+10-08+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzT3iacHwI/AAAAAAAAAKo/x1ilLQnFUCE/s200/construction+docs+10-08+045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263815015573233410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;uded in the teenage boy party cave, sat in the living room and watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Monster House scared Nathan too much).  I thought the light sticks were a wonderful idea, no flame, no fire risk, cool colors.  But they have a downside too.  Nathan bit one and suffered chemical burns in his mouth.  So I'm thinking my wonderful idea will have to wait until my kids stop taste testing every brightly colored thing thinking it's candy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7976907660915247413?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7976907660915247413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7976907660915247413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7976907660915247413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7976907660915247413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/11/october-run.html' title='October Run'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SQzSvUxXzHI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/3BFb4RxNxq4/s72-c/construction+docs+10-08+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1945904903613682033</id><published>2008-10-19T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:31:16.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPwJfoS1S3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/-Hto2UAF_XA/s1600-h/family+pictures+10-08+127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPwJfoS1S3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/-Hto2UAF_XA/s400/family+pictures+10-08+127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259088903858899826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We FINALLY took a new family picture.  The one on our wall is two years old, but Jared did sit still for that one.  Today he just wanted to run, run, run.  Not that I blame him.  It was a glorious autumn day here.  An hour after the photo session, however, we were in the emergency room.  He split open his chin.  The doctor used durabond instead of stitches and we came home.  Within an hour, it was split and bleeding again.  Instead of blowing another $100 in the emergency room, Jeff steri-stripped it and we tucked him into bed.  We hope he'll leave it on, but if not, you can tell him the scar is his own fault if he ever complains about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1945904903613682033?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1945904903613682033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1945904903613682033' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1945904903613682033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1945904903613682033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/10/family-picture.html' title='Family Picture'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPwJfoS1S3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/-Hto2UAF_XA/s72-c/family+pictures+10-08+127.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6098609696388541254</id><published>2008-10-17T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T14:11:04.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy in a bucket</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj6mpEUWrI/AAAAAAAAAJo/-02IQelmezI/s1600-h/HOUSE+10-08+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj6mpEUWrI/AAAAAAAAAJo/-02IQelmezI/s200/HOUSE+10-08+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258228106720991922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's what our house looks like as of three hours ago.  The excavator is working on grading the dirt piles and will begin installing the septic system next week.  The plumber arrives Monday, the inspector on Tuesday, the slab will be poured Wednesday, the lumber will be delivered on Thursd&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj732bV9nI/AAAAAAAAAJw/bgssTarDwdU/s1600-h/HOUSE+10-08+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj732bV9nI/AAAAAAAAAJw/bgssTarDwdU/s200/HOUSE+10-08+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258229501876631154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ay and then the framers will get started.  Let the fun begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared was lots of help throwing rocks and dirt clods into the foundation.  He also likes the nails lying around everywhere.  Now if I can just keep him from puncturing his ear drum with them.  A hike around the foundation and a game of hide and seek was fun.  He has the cutest giggle.  His favorite hiding place was in the spare backhoe bucket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj87V7NB9I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/QK1St5Jpsjg/s1600-h/HOUSE+10-08+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 210px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj87V7NB9I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/QK1St5Jpsjg/s200/HOUSE+10-08+026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258230661382997970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed mom and dad Seegmiller's company two weeks ago when the children had three days off of school.  It was so much fun and nobody was ready to get back into routine.  But we did and things have been crazy ever since.  I'm not even sure what I've done over the past two weeks - coordinate our house I suppose.  But I blinked, and now it's the end of the month.  I hope my whole adult life doesn't go by that quickly or I will be hard pressed to get everything done that I'd like to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6098609696388541254?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6098609696388541254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6098609696388541254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6098609696388541254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6098609696388541254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/10/boy-in-bucket.html' title='Boy in a bucket'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SPj6mpEUWrI/AAAAAAAAAJo/-02IQelmezI/s72-c/HOUSE+10-08+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5167636426601582366</id><published>2008-10-05T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T18:22:16.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hole in a Hill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkd0tWVgUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/e3wbPAqDoSI/s1600-h/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkd0tWVgUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/e3wbPAqDoSI/s200/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253763231668076866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Construction has started!  The basement has been excavated and the footings poured.  The forms for the basement walls are going up and should be poured next week.  Oh, and my chicken coop slab is almost done.  That's right, chicken coop.  Now for all of you laughing just at the thought of me raising chickens, I understand.  Really, I do.  Laugh away. My sister said that she always thought of me as the urban type and couldn't picture me in the country.  Honestly, that was the same thought I had fo&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkgtL_6scI/AAAAAAAAAJY/FWYNvrdcGZw/s1600-h/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkgtL_6scI/AAAAAAAAAJY/FWYNvrdcGZw/s200/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253766400991474114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r myself for a long time.  Perhaps time has changed me, or maybe I've just come to appreciate different approaches to living.  Cities are exciting with lots to do, but country life also has its charms.  Having lived in both large cities and rural communities, I now find myself avoiding city noise and traffic in favor of hearing the cry of hawks and wind in the trees.  Besides, I much prefer a five minute commute where the only traffic backups are caused by farm equipment over the Beltway rat race my parents contend with every day.  I think our community is the best kept secret in the country and as I look at the hole we've dug at the top of th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkiJVgIi1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/W6SIw4exXFM/s1600-h/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkiJVgIi1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/W6SIw4exXFM/s200/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253767984090483538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e hill, I can hardly wait to live there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5167636426601582366?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5167636426601582366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5167636426601582366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5167636426601582366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5167636426601582366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/10/hole-in-hill.html' title='A Hole in a Hill'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SOkd0tWVgUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/e3wbPAqDoSI/s72-c/pictures+from+Jeff%27s+camera+10-08+087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5956509624864379732</id><published>2008-09-24T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T18:53:14.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We hit water!</title><content type='html'>YES!  After digging 125 feet and finding nothing but slop, our well driller asked us if we wanted to pull up and try somewhere else.  After much deliberation and careful study of geologic maps and detailed drilling reports (with steel casing depths, not liner and pump depth), we told him yes.  Our second attempt yielded water at 50 feet with more available as he drilled lower.  We now have 22 gallons per minute at a depth of 125 feet.  Whoohooo!  I can't tell you what a relief this is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5956509624864379732?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5956509624864379732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5956509624864379732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5956509624864379732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5956509624864379732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/09/we-hit-water.html' title='We hit water!'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-8434557270862983364</id><published>2008-09-21T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T20:59:37.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well blues</title><content type='html'>Ah, the joys of general contracting your own home....  HA!  Good thing I didn't expect it to be smooth, because last week certainly wasn't, although there was some progress.  We now have our address and building permit (yehaw!) and started on our well.  I say started, because the well drilling rig has been sitting there since Thursday.  He drilled down through soil, basalt, a little layer of insufficient water and is now deep in really wet alluvial sand and has been for three days.  He stopped at 125 feet because he wanted me to tell him whether to keep drilling or pull up the bit and drill somewhere else.  When he said that I stared at him in blank shock.  Me?  Tell him what to do?  Right, as if I have a clue.  He's supposed to be the expert.  However, after looking at the well driller's report, I realize that all our neighbors with wells in the same area as ours have casing depths of 155-200 feet, so we have a ways to go yet.  So we will forge ahead and hope there's drinkable water somewhere below the quicksand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could post the floorplan, but the pdfs aren't uploadable to my blog.  Bummer.  I love the plan and can visualize our home already.  I found a screaming deal on nearly new hard rock maple flooring that was salvaged from a recently laid gym floor that needed foundation work.  So now we'll have hardwood everywhere because I bought it for 1.90 per square foot which is about half the price of carpet. Of course, Jeff and I have to install it, but since we already know how, it shouldn't be a problem.  So that was my victory purchase for the week.  Bargain shopping an entire house is rather fun;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-8434557270862983364?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/8434557270862983364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=8434557270862983364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8434557270862983364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8434557270862983364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/09/well-blues.html' title='Well blues'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1944046794423010504</id><published>2008-09-07T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T21:01:29.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor's Fruit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SMSOMaj17tI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VWPM03-PCuM/s1600-h/august+31+2008+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SMSOMaj17tI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VWPM03-PCuM/s200/august+31+2008+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243472210105331410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, the last two weeks have been busy.  I spent Labor Day weekend bottling, freezing, and making jam from 3 cases of peaches and painting my bathroom.  So we now have lots of delicious peaches to eat over the winter and I won't gag at the Pepto-bismol colored walls in our bathroom anymore.  YAY.   We also closed the construction loan and I finished the building permit application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff and Trevor tested their mettle on a 50 mile bike hike on Labor Day and came home with jelly legs and sore muscles.  Well, Jeff certainly did, and was completely disgusted with his body's betrayal of trust.  I don't think it ever let him down before.  Faced with proof that he is not Peter Pan, but indeed, a mere mortal subject to aging and injury, he is taking it quite personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dug hard to find some sympathy, but having a husband who has managed to maintain the same physique and strength he had at twenty-five with NO EFFORT WHATSOEVER on his part has been wonderful in some ways, but tough in others.  I mean, I've yo-yoed in and out of 170 pounds of baby weight (six kids, 28 lbs avg. gain each time) over our marriage and have the stretch marks to prove it.  I have no illusions of my lack of strength and endurance - hiking to the top of the hill where we are building our house left me completely winded.   I figure that's just life and it doesn't fuss me enough to do a thing about it.  Jeff on the other hand, is now biking to improve his endurance (You go honey!).  I, on the other hand, am just trying to find a moment to curl up and read The Time Travelers Wife or Bloody Jack (a children's book, despite the title).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, the children are enjoying being back in school.  Trevor loves being a sophomore with all the rights and privileges (real and imagined) of being in senior high school.  The school does have a very liberal lunch policy and Trevor frequently walks downtown with his friends to buy lunch during their one hour break.  Honors Biology is proving tough, but despite the work load, he is excited to be in the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey mostly likes junior high, but not math or the three minutes between classes.  She gets flustered under time pressure and becomes more forgetful.  I am hoping that the large zippered binder that she takes to all her classes will help her get assignments turned in on time and that she will be able to keep up with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler and Evan are both at the Charter School and seem to be doing well so far.  Evan makes friends easily wherever he goes, so the move to a new school wasn't difficult for him.  However, Tyler was put in a class where he doesn't know many kids and he says that all the boys are into football and basketball, which Tyler dislikes.  So his closest friend right now is a girl who likes books, art, and computers as much as he does.  I told him I thought it was great that he has a friend who is a girl, but apparently, he gets teased for it.  He didn't think highly of my observation that in a few years, those boys will wish they knew how to talk to girls.  He just rolled his eyes.  I must not remember fourth grade very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan starts pre-school tomorrow and is very excited.  The open house on Friday was fun and I know that my biggest challenge will be extricating Jared from the classroom once we've dropped Nathan off.  I'll try bribing him with food and see if it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should see some progress on our house this week.  I meet with the insulation guy tomorrow, the well driller on Tuesday, the electrician on Wednesday, the engineer from the power company on Thursday, and the excavator whichever day he becomes available.  If I get really lucky, I'll get my building permit this week too.  So here's hoping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1944046794423010504?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1944046794423010504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1944046794423010504' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1944046794423010504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1944046794423010504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/09/labors-fruit.html' title='Labor&apos;s Fruit'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SMSOMaj17tI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VWPM03-PCuM/s72-c/august+31+2008+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-2083891053810524092</id><published>2008-08-25T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:57:07.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trendy Highbrow</title><content type='html'>Sometimes kids do crazy things with no logical explanation.   Usually, those moments are good for a laugh though and Friday's surprise was no exception.  I took Trevor to work in the morning and noticed something funny about Tyler when I returned.  He had band-aids over his eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;   "Tyler, what happened to your eyebrows?"  I asked.&lt;br /&gt;   "Nothing.  I just have a little cut,"  he replied.&lt;br /&gt;Not content with that explanation, I promptly removed the band-aids and discovered that his eyebrows were missing.&lt;br /&gt;   "Tyler, what happened to your eyebrows!?!  Did Trevor shave them off?"  Yes, I immediately assumed that Trevor had pulled a prank and left for work pretending innocence.  He is terribly offended that I jumped to this conclusion, because as it turns out, Tyler shaved his eyebrows off himself.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SLLFWOGvzNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/U-vwXJX5Q0A/s1600-h/Tyler+without+eyebrows.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SLLFWOGvzNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/U-vwXJX5Q0A/s200/Tyler+without+eyebrows.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238466302119496914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I asked Tyler why he shaved his eyebrows, he told me that he thought they were too bushy and was trying to take off just a little bit of the hair, not all of it.  Apparently, someone told him he had a uni-brow and he was afraid of being laughed at.   So it was with great trepidation that he went to church yesterday with his older siblings chuckling behind his back.   To his credit, Tyler bravely walked into church expecting hecklers and to his delight, realized that no one noticed (or if they did, they were too polite to ask).  Trevor offered to shave his head to make everything match, but Tyler declined and is still excited to start school on Wednesday.  Whew!  I'm glad he's learned to laugh about it.  He's now quite sure that he's going to be the coolest kid in his class.  I told him that there wasn't a doubt in my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-2083891053810524092?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/2083891053810524092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=2083891053810524092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2083891053810524092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/2083891053810524092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/08/trendy-highbrow.html' title='Trendy Highbrow'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SLLFWOGvzNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/U-vwXJX5Q0A/s72-c/Tyler+without+eyebrows.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-564934583974103670</id><published>2008-08-17T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:20:13.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mercury Rising</title><content type='html'>Never, ever, will I again complain about summers here not feeling summery enough.  After that misguided post where I said that it didn't feel like summer here, the thermometer blazed up from 75 to 95 degrees within 24 hours.  It's been hot ever since.  Now to be fair, it does cool off every evening.  But every morning, the mercury in our porch thermometer rises with the sun and the days are LONG here at this latitude.  Ah, well.  Here's hoping that summer lasts until October so we can get the roof on our house before winter hits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SKjpPt6kysI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-DjRqrSLoK4/s1600-h/cape+code+front+elevation.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SKjpPt6kysI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-DjRqrSLoK4/s320/cape+code+front+elevation.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235691023050787522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In home construction news.  I got all the sub-contractor bids to the bank last week and have just three little documents to submit tomorrow and then we should be good to close the construction loan.  YAY!  It's been a LOT of work to gather all the information they wanted, but at this point, I've picked out and priced most of the items that will go in the house, so I have a very clear mental picture of what it should all look like in the end. Yes,  I do love the cape cod style.  However, since this house is being planned for the way we live, it will have a main floor laundry, a fireplace, a covered front porch, double sink bathrooms, and nine foot ceilings. It won't have the cool mansard roof garage, because I didn't want to sink a lot of extra money for custom framing and roofing, so use your imagination to picture a regular gabled roof like the main part of the house with one dormer window.  But it should look much the same otherwise with white siding, grey roof, and green shutters.  Lindsey thinks I'm lacking creativity with the color scheme.  I countered that it's a classic look and I'm not into fads.  She can paint her house purple with aqua  trim if she wants to, but not me.  Now that the planning stage is ending, I'm getting excited to start.  I have the excavator and foundation contractors all lined up and will call the well digger this week.  Yehaw!  Let the fun begin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-564934583974103670?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/564934583974103670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=564934583974103670' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/564934583974103670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/564934583974103670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/08/mercury-rising.html' title='Mercury Rising'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SKjpPt6kysI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-DjRqrSLoK4/s72-c/cape+code+front+elevation.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-4752017642646860499</id><published>2008-08-12T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:26:29.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly Away</title><content type='html'>You know all those times you've just wanted to escape your life and fly away?  Okay, maybe I'm the only one whose ever felt that way - but I doubt it.  I seem to have one of those days several times a year.  All the pressure of juggling everything will just build up and suddenly, I can't take it anymore.  I've learned that a good cry, a good book, or 'girls time' with a friend usually solves the problem and once I go to sleep, I wake up ready to face everything just fine.  But never in my married life have I had the chance to actually escape my life for a bit and just leave.  Until last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my husband's insistence, I went to Nicole's wedding and for the first time in sixteen years, traveled alone.   It was rather strange, but cool too.  No one demanded anything of me, no one screamed my name, and I had next to no responsibilities.  I forgot how easy it was to be single and have no one to worry about except myself.  And yes, I had a blast.  Nicole's wedding was so much fun. Unencumbered as a was, I helped out wherever I could and enjoyed visiting with friends and family and taking advantage of the wonderful hospitality of my parents-in-law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days into my little trip, however, I began to feel something (or somebodies) missing.  The quiet soon became too quiet.  Everything Nicole's nieces and nephews did reminded me of my children.  I latched myself onto whatever group of people seemed friendliest because I didn't have a certain place to be or people to be with.  I realized that I really missed Jeff's company (and the bed felt way too empty).  So after staying up until 4 am talking with my sister to avoid the empty bed for as long as possible, I grabbed a few hours sleep and boarded the plane to go home.  It was on the way home that I realized how much I missed my family.  I haven't really been away from them often enough to miss them, and now I think that sometimes a mom has to get away before she can appreciate how the pieces of her life fit together.  After a wonderful dose of perspective, I was very glad to arrive home without mishap and embrace the wiggling, energetic, noisy bodies that make my life so full right now and fall into Jeff's arms knowing that I belong there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now that I've been given wings and found that coming home is as much fun as leaving.  Who knows where I might fly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-4752017642646860499?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/4752017642646860499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=4752017642646860499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/4752017642646860499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/4752017642646860499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/08/fly-away.html' title='Fly Away'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7186945932142591694</id><published>2008-08-03T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T19:37:37.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August Already?</title><content type='html'>What happened to summer?  Not that I'm complaining exactly.  After all, August means that my darling children will soon be back in school instead of trashing the house all day long.  But what happened to the last two months?  It seems like I blinked and they're gone.  Is there some time contraction theory that explains this?  I remember summers that stretched on and on.  Of course, I was a kid then, but somehow, I had it in my head that I would get so much done this summer and I haven't.  Or maybe it's just that it hasn't felt like summer here.  We've only used our air conditioner twice.  The days rarely hit above eighty and the nights are cool.  Now I love this temperature arrangement, so like I said, I'm really not complaining, but it doesn't seem very summery.  And there are things I love about summer.  But as I think of those things, I realize that maybe the reason it hasn't seemed like summer is because I haven't experienced many of my favorite parts of the season this year.  Aha!  There's my problem.  So for me, an ideal summer requires the following:&lt;br /&gt;1. Less demanding schedule (Okay, so that didn't happen this year).&lt;br /&gt;2. Ripe home grown tomatoes (Ours are still green).&lt;br /&gt;3. Relaxing at the pool (I'm not polar bear enough for this summer's temps).&lt;br /&gt;4. Grilled dinner eaten outside with watermelon (No idea why we didn't manage this one).&lt;br /&gt;5. Reading lots of books, just for fun (Technical editing, manuscripts, and blueprints don't count).&lt;br /&gt;6. Hanging out with friends (What friends?  Oh yeah, they mostly took off for the summer or live out of state).&lt;br /&gt;7. Fun vacation (We did get this one in).&lt;br /&gt;8. Frequent date nights (Haven't managed a date since June).&lt;br /&gt;9. Good movies (Did any good movies even come out this summer?  The last one I saw at the theater was Prince Caspian in May).&lt;br /&gt;10. Bouquets of flowers from my garden (Sniff, I'm sure the new owners of my house in Ohio are loving all the flowers I planted).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7186945932142591694?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7186945932142591694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7186945932142591694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7186945932142591694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7186945932142591694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/08/august-already.html' title='August Already?'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5050042383699531650</id><published>2008-07-27T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T12:48:41.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Blogging</title><content type='html'>WARNING!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Excruciatingly long post ahead.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Okay, you’ve been warned. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But for those brave souls still reading, standby for an overview of the last two months during which I’ve been off the blogosphere because it took Verizon three ½ weeks to connect our DSL, we left for a family reunion, and then so much happened, I really didn’t know how to catch up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So here’s my attempt….&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As mentioned in earlier posts, we moved into The Furrow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t realize how aptly we named it until I star&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1N2ao66HI/AAAAAAAAADA/NxIUclvEgkY/s1600-h/7-08+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1N2ao66HI/AAAAAAAAADA/NxIUclvEgkY/s200/7-08+107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227920339706243186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ted cleaning it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Eeewwwww. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was SO dirty.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re talking decades of dirt here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We could have planted a garden on the basement shelves there was so much build up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyhow, after destroying my new vacuum’s HEPA filter and blasting through a six pack of sponges, two whole bottles of Lysol, and three canisters of disinfecting disposable wipes, we began moving our stuff the day after my last post.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then Jeff and I left for Seattle for a conference he had to attend – without the kids.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yes, thank you Lucinda.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My saintly friend offered to watch our six children in addition to her own four so we could enjoy a four day break (I owe her big time).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyhow, I enjoyed the blessed quiet, uninterrupted time with Jeff after his meetings, my sister’s company wandering around Pike’s Place, and the cute little shops around the university district.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And for the record, I think I could’ve handled five or six days of that&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we returned, real life smacked us in the face as the exhausting business of changing residences engulfed us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Move complete, I cleaned the old apartment and then Jeff &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1OfnaDxhI/AAAAAAAAADI/mabL1zWRXbg/s1600-h/7-08+080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1OfnaDxhI/AAAAAAAAADI/mabL1zWRXbg/s200/7-08+080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227921047508207122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;re-painted (Jared had expressed his artistic side on the pale walls).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The next week, we planted our garden with help from the kids (Jared worked harder than some of the older kids), baseball began for Evan and Tyler and Jeff left for a week-long conference.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So while still unpacking, I shuttled Trevor to work, the boys to baseball and really hated being a single mom for a week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have new empathy for those wh&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1PtQySQxI/AAAAAAAAADY/ELXnb-k_Cnw/s1600-h/7-08+124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1PtQySQxI/AAAAAAAAADY/ELXnb-k_Cnw/s200/7-08+124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227922381465600786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;o have to do it full-time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Two days after Jeff returned, we closed the sale of our house in Ohio and then packed for a family reunion and left the next day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We enjoyed fishing, playing, and bonding with each other, and even enjo&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1ReoeS_kI/AAAAAAAAADo/rt7UsuqOkYw/s1600-h/7-08+135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1ReoeS_kI/AAAAAAAAADo/rt7UsuqOkYw/s200/7-08+135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227924329149431362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;yed the frigid water of the Puget Sound - from the shore.  Being the Pacific, I thought the water would be warm.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;WRONG.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only ones brave enough to get wet were the intrepid polar bears under the age of fifteen.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I covered up with a sweatshirt and sho&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1Q1I4-PTI/AAAAAAAAADg/9Vgef9OiRdU/s1600-h/7-08+229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1Q1I4-PTI/AAAAAAAAADg/9Vgef9OiRdU/s200/7-08+229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227923616296746290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rts, but failed to put sunscreen on my forehead and calves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yeah, it was real pretty – like a candy cane.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wasn’t the only one sun burnt though.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think we all forgot that although the air and water might be cold, the sun still sent out those beams of radiation to fry our pasty skin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think the next time we go to the beach, we’ll head to California and I’ll be sure to bathe in sunscreen first.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Despite the lingering pain from the excursion, the tid&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1TS6s0swI/AAAAAAAAADw/wM3445Krtts/s1600-h/7-08+251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1TS6s0swI/AAAAAAAAADw/wM3445Krtts/s200/7-08+251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227926326907024130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;al pools were a lot of fun and it was a very good day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Jeff decided to don a seaweed ponytail to try and fit in with the crowd at the beach.  I don't think it's quite his look.  Before we left, we collected driftwood for a fire.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was excited to see the green flames that I’d read about in Twilight when some of the characters built a driftwood bonfire on the beach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just so you know, the flames were orange.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess I shouldn’t believe details from novels.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Oh well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We returned from the family reunion tired, happy, and several pounds heavier due to all the delicious food.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kudos to Rachel for planning it all while trying to arrange their move to Japan.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Swimming lessons and baseball games took up every week night for the following two weeks while I tried to catch up on laundry, continue unpacking, and get back into some kind of routine.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Emphasis on try.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I still have piles of laundry to do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My sister and her son showed up the last week of baseball/swimming lessons and we enjoyed their company until a few days ago.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While they were here, we harvested about fifty pounds of cherries from a neighbor’s yard and made lots of cherry jam.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In between all this, I’ve been trying to work out the details of a construction loan for the house we are hoping to build and getting bids from sub-contractors.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;With equal measure anticipation and trepidation, we are planning to general contract the construction ourselves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ll let you know how that goes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5050042383699531650?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5050042383699531650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5050042383699531650' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5050042383699531650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5050042383699531650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/07/back-to-blogging.html' title='Back to Blogging'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SI1N2ao66HI/AAAAAAAAADA/NxIUclvEgkY/s72-c/7-08+107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6199241250131011377</id><published>2008-06-01T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T23:08:08.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HOUSE SOLD</title><content type='html'>I thought I'd be shouting and dancing with glee when our house finally sold.  I'm not.  We accepted a contract on Friday, but it was such a bad offer that after the tears and anger faded, I just felt empty.  Losing most of our equity seems to have that effect on me.  But after a full year on the market, we knew we had to take the offer to offload the house and be freed from the mortgage.  And yes, knowing we only have to make one more payment is a wonderful feeling, but everything else about the sale makes me sad.  So needless to say, I was an emotional wreck on Friday.  My feelings tempered somewhat by Saturday, but then the world looked half-empty to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday afternoon, I snapped out of my funk.  After abusing my lungs with dust clouds that erupted as I took down the curtains in the house we're moving to (I don't think they'd ever been cleaned), I sat outside to breathe some clean, relatively dust-free air and watched my children.  The boys ran in the pasture, Lindsey climbed a tree, and Jared gleefully jumped in the mud puddle he'd discovered.  Completely oblivious to my mood, they played and laughed and relished the simple joys of childhood.  They reminded me that despite whatever financial setbacks we may be facing, life is good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, I am grateful.  Grateful for my family, for our health, and for the burden that is finally lifted.  I'm grateful for the gospel and my faith that the Lord loves us and is mindful of our needs and even when things don't work out the way I want them to, they do work out.  And hopefully, things will still work out so we can build a house for our family.  We're not sure yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned a lot through this whole experience, and if ever start talking about moving to another state, will someone please smack me really hard until I remember that I NEVER want to leave a home and friends I love to move across the country again?  Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6199241250131011377?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6199241250131011377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6199241250131011377' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6199241250131011377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6199241250131011377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/06/house-sold.html' title='HOUSE SOLD'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-763794816953474922</id><published>2008-05-26T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T08:43:19.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Race to the End</title><content type='html'>Ah...end of the school year.  So calm.  So peaceful.  You know, there's nothing to do.  HA!  Let the race begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before the race, we are relaxing and enjoying the gorgeous weather.  Saturday, we went on a bike ride with the kids, Lindsey and I hit some garage sales, and I found a cute little settee at the thrift store.  Jeff wasn't too thrilled about the furniture purchase, but when he saw how happy I was with it, he held his peace.  Good man.  He and the older kids are fishing today and just the gas for the fishing trip was almost double what I paid for my little loveseat, so I'm not feeling bad about it.   Besides, it has cute tapestry fabric with quaint street scenes of what I think is supposed to be France.  It must be idealized, because there's no trash or crowds, but I like it.  So I'm borrowing my friend's carpet cleaner and it'll be good to go.  Besides, once we move into The Furrow we'll need it (We were going to call the house The Burrow, but didn't want to infringe on JK Rowling's copyright;), so the Furrow it is;)  So in ten days we'll actually have two living areas again.  YEHAW!  Sure, the house is ugly, but I can't wait.  Just having a family room separate from the kitchen, and homework area with separate places to send the kids when they get noisy and/or ornery is such a blessing.  I MISS my house in Ohio.  Sniff.  It still hasn't sold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm off to take the boys to the park and completely blocking out the packing, cleaning, three dozen cupcakes to make, set up for the school musical production, cub scouts, and everything else I have to do this week...starting tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-763794816953474922?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/763794816953474922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=763794816953474922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/763794816953474922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/763794816953474922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/05/race-to-end.html' title='Race to the End'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3869078244385182528</id><published>2008-05-16T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T09:07:02.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Guacamole</title><content type='html'>I meant to post on Sunday.  Really I did.  I just ran out of time and then never got around to posting.  I guess I'm an erratic blogger.  Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a rather memorable mother's day.  Jeff made my favorite Belgian waffles, with strawberries and we arrived to church half an hour early.  Then Jared exploded with a guacamole diaper that went up, down, and out, plastering his pants and shirt.  I took him home.  I gave him a bath.  We tried church again.  He didn't explode this time.  In fact, he was a rather pleasant little fellow and I arrived in time to hear the four middle children sing 'Mother I love you' and 'Mother dear I love you so.'  Trevor and the other older boys passed out mums (ha ha, someone has a sense of humor). And then we came home and I took a nap.  Dinner was the oh-so-delicious meal of marinated shish kebabs and Angel Food Cake.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure Monday followed, but I have no recollection of it.  In fact, I can hardly believe it's Friday again.  The week passed in a blur.  I think time is speeding up.  Of course, it always speeds up at the end of the school year.  So many activities, meetings, and assemblies crammed into such a short period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember taking Lindsey shopping for a bathing suit.  I was appalled at the skanky bikinis they offered for twelve year olds.  HELLO!  Twelve year olds are NOT supposed to wear things like that.  No one should really, unless it's in their bedroom.  The college girls here haven't figured that out.  They wear the worst clothes.  No style, all sleaze.  Hopefully, fashion designers will make a move toward style soon.   Wouldn't it be nice to browse a fashion magazine and - gasp! - the models are wearing clothes!  Funny how fashion magazines feature hardly any clothes at all.  I read a book like that when I was a kid, it was called The Emperor's New Clothes.  Good thing I can sew.  Even if I don't very often, at least I can.  I hear prom dresses are even tougher to find than bathing suits - unless you're willing to use the Emperor's tailor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3869078244385182528?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3869078244385182528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3869078244385182528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3869078244385182528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3869078244385182528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/05/holy-guacamole.html' title='Holy Guacamole'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5164748894897951622</id><published>2008-05-07T13:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T14:00:16.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza with a twist</title><content type='html'>We enjoyed a unique dining experience last night.   We had pizza, which is an all-time favorite around here and pretty much a fail-safe recipe.  Until yesterday.  The first two pizzas turned out fine, but the chicken barbeque?  That was another story.  Three bites into it, I wondered if the nerves between my tongue and brain were malfunctioning.  I mean, I made the pizza, I know what I put into it.  And none of the ingredients matched the bitter chemical burn that was curling my tongue into my throat.   I spat it out and rinsed my tongue.  It was seriously bad pizza, but how did it get that way?  I'd made it the exact same way I always did - same ingredients, same pan.  Then I realized that the bitter taste was soap.  Dawn dishsoap with bleach, to be exact.  The kids do the dishes and hadn't rinsed the soap off the pan last time they washed it.  Mmmm..mmm good - not.  The funny thing is that Trevor and Lindsey each ate a piece and didn't notice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5164748894897951622?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5164748894897951622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5164748894897951622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5164748894897951622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5164748894897951622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/05/pizza-with-twist.html' title='Pizza with a twist'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-278147154524326129</id><published>2008-05-04T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T22:16:19.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salmon Run</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6UbmdidTI/AAAAAAAAACo/DDl8G31JTDM/s1600-h/May+1+2008+034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6UbmdidTI/AAAAAAAAACo/DDl8G31JTDM/s200/May+1+2008+034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196754221933950258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The salmon are ready for the Charter School's spring production Salmon Run.   Different age groups represent various stages of the salmon life cycle, so I have a smolt and a spawning salmon.  We didn't have patterns to sew by, so I made mine up.  Lindsey hates it.  She says her costume isn't fishy enough and reminded me that fish don't walk on their ta&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6PGWdidQI/AAAAAAAAACQ/3Bt3XKb9m_s/s1600-h/May+1+2008+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6PGWdidQI/AAAAAAAAACQ/3Bt3XKb9m_s/s200/May+1+2008+048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196748359303591170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;il fins.  I told her to imagine she was a fish trying to swim up a waterfall.  I also gave her the option of making her own costume and, miraculously, the one I made for her is suddenly okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially with the collapse o&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6O2mdidPI/AAAAAAAAACI/prOkc2ZRmHM/s1600-h/May+1+2008+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6O2mdidPI/AAAAAAAAACI/prOkc2ZRmHM/s200/May+1+2008+037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196748088720651506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;f the pacific salmon harvest this year, many folks in the northwest are really concerned about the health of the species.  I like how the charter school is very environmentally aware, but my kids just really want to catch a real fish and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went to the Renaissance Festival.  It was wonderful to get out and enjoy spring which had finally arrived.  The festival itself wasn't quite what I expected.  There were a musical groups, llamas to pet, and live hawks and owls to see for free.  But the coolest attraction was the bungee jump and climbing wall that was fairly expensive.  The kids were disappointed that I didn't shell out the money, but they got over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than those few things, the whole event seemed like a glorified craft fair with booth after booth of things to buy and overpriced carnival style food.   After recovering from sticker shock, we came home and made funnel cakes ourselves which were absolutely fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did ge&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6VKGdidUI/AAAAAAAAACw/w5rtJ9KJlgo/s1600-h/spoon+shelves.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6VKGdidUI/AAAAAAAAACw/w5rtJ9KJlgo/s200/spoon+shelves.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196755020797867330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;t a few fun ideas though.  Lindsey wants to make a windchime out of odd utensils and metal trivets like some we saw that sold for a mere $40.  I told her we could probably make it for less than $5 so that's what we're going to do.   But I did see a coat rack out of old utensils that I thought was really cute.  When we get settled into our new living quarters, I'll probably copy it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-278147154524326129?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/278147154524326129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=278147154524326129' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/278147154524326129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/278147154524326129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/05/salmon-run.html' title='Salmon Run'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SB6UbmdidTI/AAAAAAAAACo/DDl8G31JTDM/s72-c/May+1+2008+034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7724959225352090000</id><published>2008-05-01T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T18:22:55.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All work, no play</title><content type='html'>Is it Thursday already?  Where did the week go?  Obviously I survived last weekend with Jeff out of town - we even made it to church twenty minutes early with everyone clean, well-groomed, and sitting quietly.  It was a fluke.  I've had a whole week of Lindsey's messy hair and moving like molasses before school to prove it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But happily, her paper route is history and the after school hours are much more peaceful now.  Trevor got a job though.  YAY!  Now he can save up and pay his own way for all those expensive activities he's always wanting to do and save for his mission.  He'll be working at the pool concession stand and is pretty excited about it.  He starts in a few weeks and after earning $1 and hour doing a paper route, he's thrilled to make minimum wage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made it to 60 degrees today.  But the pool won't open unless the thermometer creeps up to seventy.  So for the sake of Trevor's mission fund, here's hoping we see an immediate warming trend.  Jeff is finishing up the semester and LOVING being back on a semester schedule.  I'm finishing up salmon costumes for Lindsey and Tyler's school musical production.  I'll post pictures in a few days.  It does seem that there's just been one thing after another - nothing thrilling or exciting - just a lot of jobs that had to get done.  Hopefully, we'll get a little more caught up and have time to play this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7724959225352090000?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7724959225352090000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7724959225352090000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7724959225352090000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7724959225352090000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/05/all-work-no-play.html' title='All work, no play'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3831056952779476016</id><published>2008-04-25T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T16:18:11.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Sixteen</title><content type='html'>We're turning sweet sixteen today!  Yep, that's right, today is our sixteenth wedding anniversary.  It could be sweeter though, Jeff left for Dallas at 5 am.  But oh well.  Here's hoping the whole year is a good one.  Here's the wish list: 1. our house in Ohio sells, 2. our house in Ohio sells, and 3. our house in Ohio sells.  So, it's going to sell.  Ah, the power of wishful thinking, or is that delusional thinking?  Hmmm.....not sure anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, the last sixteen years went by so fast (except for the last  eight months).  And although there are days I feel like I don't get anything done except get dressed, get the kids off to school, and complete a few household chores, when I look back in aggregate, we've actually accomplished quite a lot.  I think I should make lists more often.  I get the stuff done anyhow, but then I remember that I did it and feel good about it.  So here's what I'm feeling good about right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In sixteen years of marriage we:&lt;br /&gt;1.  earned four degrees between us,&lt;br /&gt;2.  welcomed six children into our family,&lt;br /&gt;3.  managed to house, clothe, and feed said children despite being poor students for eight of those sixteen years,&lt;br /&gt;4.  moved ourselves eleven times without breaking our backs or anything else irreplaceable,&lt;br /&gt;5.  succeeded at loving one another through good times and bad, with the result that we love each other more now than we did on the day we married,&lt;br /&gt;6.  have been blessed with excellent health and DNA that keeps us looking younger than we are, and&lt;br /&gt;7.  are looking forward to the next sixteen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3831056952779476016?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3831056952779476016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3831056952779476016' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3831056952779476016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3831056952779476016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweet-sixteen.html' title='Sweet Sixteen'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-8071171677299143957</id><published>2008-04-21T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T13:14:36.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Write Away</title><content type='html'>You won't be able to read about my attempts to write around my family or break into publishing on this blog anymore.  I know you're all really upset about that.  Ha ha.  I just thought it would be better to separate my personal blog from my writing blog.  So, if anyone wants to read how my writing is going, you'll have to check it out at:   http://writingrhapsody.blogspot.com/.  This one is going to remain for more personal posts and family updates.  I hope spring is visiting you all.  It's snowing here.  Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-8071171677299143957?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/8071171677299143957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=8071171677299143957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8071171677299143957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8071171677299143957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/write-away.html' title='Write Away'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-5987483006888173877</id><published>2008-04-20T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T13:06:45.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat Pheasant Festival</title><content type='html'>Fat pheasants abounded today.  I took a double take on our way home from church to make sure one wasn't a turkey.  The weather finally warmed up to fifty degrees and the pheasants came out in droves.  Jeff took the kids out to the land we're trying to buy and Sadie chased them while the kids ran.  They were bouncing in the apartment with deafening synergy, so it was good for them to get out for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're wondering, we still haven't had an offer on our house.  I still can't figure out why.  It's such a great house and the daffodils and redbuds, are probably blooming now.  I love the yard in the spring.  I never dreamed it would be so difficult to sell.  I'm trying not to stress out about it, but it's tough.  That hardest part is not being able to do anything to change the situation.  Yes I know, have patience.  I'm working on it.  The good news is that no matter how long we have these double payments, we'll never starve.  We can always go out and catch a pheasant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-5987483006888173877?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/5987483006888173877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=5987483006888173877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5987483006888173877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/5987483006888173877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/fat-pheasant-festival.html' title='Fat Pheasant Festival'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1936981767087715378</id><published>2008-04-14T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T16:35:15.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain and snow, blow and go (no really, just go)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SAPneXYTCwI/AAAAAAAAAA8/w2vBL2FpBUk/s1600-h/Nathan+in+the+rain.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SAPneXYTCwI/AAAAAAAAAA8/w2vBL2FpBUk/s200/Nathan+in+the+rain.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189245704518961922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a glorious weekend and then today, snowy rain.  Ick.  What a tease.  Nathan was so excited to try out his new umbrella though.  Here's a shot of him testing it out.  Obviously, the weather doesn't bother him at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cozy up around the stove or under a blanket with a book when it's miserable out, but today I made a cake for a friend's birthday.   I took it to her and we commiserated over a slice of chocolate cake and suddenly, who cared about the weather.  Great company and an infusion of chocolate work wonders.  But if it's gross tomorrow, I think a book is in order.  That is, if I can squeeze it in around the editing jobs that just came in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SAPphXYTCxI/AAAAAAAAABE/6RhRU4urDn8/s1600-h/Kim%27s+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SAPphXYTCxI/AAAAAAAAABE/6RhRU4urDn8/s200/Kim%27s+cake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189247955081825042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, here's the cake.  And yes, it's as good as it looks.   I wish I'd made two.  Not that I need any more cake.  We've had a LOT lately and I'm making no headway at all against the weight I've gained this winter.  Sigh.  I can no longer eat whatever I want to and get away with it.  Yeah, yeah, I know, the world's smallest violin is playing my song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1936981767087715378?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1936981767087715378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1936981767087715378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1936981767087715378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1936981767087715378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/rain-and-snow-blow-and-go-no-really.html' title='Rain and snow, blow and go (no really, just go)'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/SAPneXYTCwI/AAAAAAAAAA8/w2vBL2FpBUk/s72-c/Nathan+in+the+rain.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6370355642881146765</id><published>2008-04-13T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T16:52:40.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday boys, Take two</title><content type='html'>We celebrated the second round of double birthdays this weekend.   I seem to be suffering memory loss or something because I forgot to buy camera batteries - again.  So I don't have any pictures to post.  Sorry.  We did get the party on video, so they won't be totally bereft of  birthday memories.   Yesterday was a lot of fun though.  Jeff made kites with the kids and then flew them at the park.  The kites soared and the kids had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, the best part of the whole weekend was the glorious weather.  Ah yes...I remember what warm temperatures feel like again.  It's been heavenly - sunny and sixty five with the earthy smell of spring all around.  Whenever I get a house of my own again, I'm planting hundreds of flowers.  I really miss plants here in this neighborhood of asphalt encircled, high density housing.  Six more weeks and we'll have a yard again.  Yay!  And if we get really lucky, the people who liked our house in Ohio at the showing yesterday will buy it soon.  Here's hoping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor played in his first tennis match and got fried.  He forgot to take sunscreen and has a livid farmer's burn.  He's very embarrassed about it, which only makes his face look like a steamed lobster.  He won half of his matches though and had a really good time.  He plays doubles with a really sharp guy from school and they are enjoying the boy to girl ratio on the JV tennis team which is hovering around 1:6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey is a little nervous about middle school.  I am too.  We choose her classes next week.  I just hope she can figure out a way to stay organized and keep up on her homework next year.  Maybe, like a caterpillar, she'll undergo a miraculous transformation this summer that will allow her to fly with creativity, but still keep track of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler and Evan are looking forward to playing baseball.  Tyler is very charged up about it, Evan, not so much.  This in and of itself is weird since he's a natural athlete.  But we'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan is just thrilled to be four and both he and Jared want to spend all day at the park.  Not that I blame them.  But it is a good thing that they get hungry so often, or I'd never convince them to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finishing up the revision on my story and beginning to edit the manuscripts of the studies Jeff mentored his graduate students through.  The students wrote the manuscripts and I'm just trying to keep from beating my head against the wall as I try to bring them up to publication caliber.  Some are so awful, I'm practically re-writing them.  I'm not sure if one student even knows what a complete sentence is, much less tenses, proper grammar, or appropriate statistical expression of data.  That manuscript is truly beyond help so I'm not wasting my time.  But it is baffling that someone can graduate with a master's degree and not know the basic conventions of written English.  So I'll take two Tylenol, fix two manuscripts, and write again when I've recovered from my concussions.  Then I'll patch the wall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6370355642881146765?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6370355642881146765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6370355642881146765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6370355642881146765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6370355642881146765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthday-boys-take-two.html' title='Birthday boys, Take two'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7164223954647584511</id><published>2008-04-10T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T19:32:34.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Standing (or sitting) corrected</title><content type='html'>Okay, I stand corrected.  Urinetown is not the sewage it seems to be.  Apparently, audiences and critics alike love it.  I'm not deleting my previous post though, because I still think it has a tacky title.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7164223954647584511?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7164223954647584511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7164223954647584511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7164223954647584511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7164223954647584511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/standing-or-sitting-corrected.html' title='Standing (or sitting) corrected'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-804071116343104911</id><published>2008-04-10T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:44:21.482-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theater'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preferences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arts'/><title type='text'>Theater whizzes</title><content type='html'>Has all good taste left the arts?  Sometimes I wonder.  I drove past the campus theater this morning and did a double take.  A bold yellow sign promoted their Spring production.  Emblazoned across a yellow backdrop in sinuous black letters read:  Urinetown - The muscial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I get the 'clever' double entendre.  But still, who thought anyone would want to see a show entitled thus.  Ew.  I mean, other than mild curiosity over whether it is set in France, Italy, or some other hygenically challenged place with bad sewers, that title fails to pique my interest in any way.   I'd heard the university theater program has gone down the toilet lately, but now they're advertising it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-804071116343104911?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/804071116343104911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=804071116343104911' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/804071116343104911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/804071116343104911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/theater-whizzes.html' title='Theater whizzes'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1195346745403577409</id><published>2008-04-09T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T12:22:59.077-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>House call</title><content type='html'>I was a bit irritated when Trevor called me from his cell phone the other day.  The call itself was not the problem.  After all, that is why we gave him the phone in the first place and I do enjoy talking with him.  The problem was that he called me from the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ascertaining that he was indeed home,  I told him to walk his lazy bum upstairs to talk to me in person.  Being fourteen, he was highly affronted by the request and demanded to know why he had to hike two flights of stairs instead of conveniently using the phone.  I blustered something about preferring face to face conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started thinking about it.  The phone was easier for his brief question, and generally, I'm all for easy.  But I really do prefer conversations in person.  Phone calls and e-mail are fine for long distance, but seriously lack the inflection and body language that communicates more than words alone can.   And I love words.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought the long winter here was isolating, but perhaps everyone feels somewhat isolated in these days of instant, often impersonal, communication.  Or maybe, as my son pointed out, I'm just old and out of touch.  Either way, I think people still need to take time to see each other in person.  So how about it, anyone flying in to have lunch?  No?  Bummer.  I guess I'll settle for phone calls, just not with someone who is already in the same house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1195346745403577409?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1195346745403577409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1195346745403577409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1195346745403577409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1195346745403577409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/house-call.html' title='House call'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3186487373765390379</id><published>2008-04-05T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T15:07:05.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday gift of Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R_gtgVWBPpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-UnTnNjycRU/s1600-h/jared%27s+birthday+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R_gtgVWBPpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-UnTnNjycRU/s200/jared%27s+birthday+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185945004425690770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gift of Spring graced Jeff and Jared's birthday.  I baked a cake in the morning and then we enjoyed the sunny, sixty degree afternoon in the park.  After I unbuckled Jared, he ran toward the park with that delirious glee that only children seem capable of.  I could hardly take any pictures because as soon as I focused, he darted from the frame.  I never did learn how to take action shots.  Nathan was pretty excited too. Jared was yelping "go, go, go" when I took this picture, he didn't like being held back.  I got off a few more snapshots and then my camera's batteries died.   Figures.  We finally have a beautiful day and I can't capture it in pixels so I'll have to capture it in memory. It was so wonderful to be outside without freezing for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R_g6ElWBPrI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WnCE-rYOG1k/s1600-h/jared%27s+birthday+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R_g6ElWBPrI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WnCE-rYOG1k/s200/jared%27s+birthday+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185958821335482034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared didn't get the whole gift thing when it came to the party.  He happily played with the sunglasses Lindsey gave him while his siblings showed him how to unwrap the other packages.   He became interested pretty quick once he realized that they held goodies like a Spiderman play hut, a ride-on Winnie the Pooh airplane, Spiderman pajamas and a Superman bed quilt.  Notice a theme?  Yes, sad to say, but my two year old has a superhero fixation thanks to his older brothers.   Superman, Spiderman, and Batman figure prominently in his eleven word vocabulary along with binky, bottle (code for sippy cup), cookie, go, eat, mine, dad and mom.  Hopefully, not in that priority order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff worked, came home to eat a steak dinner, and worked some more.  He was behind because he went with Lindsey and Tyler on their field trip to the fish hatchery.  The hatchery was interesting (apparently agonizing too, Jeff said the fish they harvested the eggs from were huge), but the work still had to get done.   At least he had the chance to enjoy his evening.  Thanks to everyone who remembered my birthday boys.  Jeff loved Diane's blog post with his favorite song and we had a good laugh over the dated video.  For anyone who'd like to see it, check it out at:  http://dianesdebris.blogspot.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3186487373765390379?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3186487373765390379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3186487373765390379' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3186487373765390379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3186487373765390379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthday-gift-of-spring.html' title='Birthday gift of Spring'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R_gtgVWBPpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-UnTnNjycRU/s72-c/jared%27s+birthday+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-8379101793826576274</id><published>2008-04-01T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T16:01:09.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Natural glow</title><content type='html'>YES!  We've finally broken the 40 degree barrier!  After scraping a thick layer of frost of my windshield this morning, the temperature climbed to a balmy 42 with sunny skies.  I threw on my bathing suit and ran down the street to celebrate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April Fool's.  Not a chance I'm showing my pasty legs until they get a dose of 'natural' glow tanning lotion and it's at least 80 degrees outside.   I don't remember 80 degrees.  I know I've experienced it before.  It seems like it would be lovely and warm.  I wonder how long it takes to get to 80 degrees here in Idaho?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-8379101793826576274?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/8379101793826576274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=8379101793826576274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8379101793826576274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8379101793826576274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/04/natural-glow.html' title='Natural glow'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-141901728805197572</id><published>2008-03-30T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T00:13:38.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ostrich possum boy</title><content type='html'>Jared is so funny.  By far my most entertaining toddler, his new strategy for avoiding doing whatever he doesn't want to do is to play possum.   He refused to stay in bed yesterday and snuck down the stairs two minutes after I tucked him in, for the fifth time.  I heard him slither down the stairs and told him to go to bed while Jeff and I paused our movie.  Silence.  "Jared?  Go to bed."  Still silent.  Jeff crept over to check on him and then laughed.  Curious, I skipped over to take a peek too.  Eyes shut, face composed in 'sleep,' and body stiff as a board, Jared lay spread across the tread corners of four steps.  His face was very convincing, and if I hadn't just heard him moving, I would've thought he'd fallen asleep there, albeit rather stiffly.   Jeff scooped him up to carry him to bed and he let out an immediate howl of protest so I know he wasn't having a seizure or anything.  Then today when I asked him to return the toy he'd just swiped from Nathan,  he immediately rested his head on the couch and closed his eyes.  Ditto for the marble he popped into his mouth an hour later that I wanted him to give me.  Apparently, he is under the impression that if he can't see us, we can't see him.  So maybe he's more of an ostrich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of the menagerie, they are getting along and for the most part, enjoying each other's company.  No small miracle there.  After pulling myself together from my manuscript's demoralizing critique, I talked with the kids about the power of words.  I wanted them to understand how criticism and negativity could poison our thoughts, bringing down both the giver and receiver.  With so much of it in our society, I want our home to be the antidote.  I don't know if it was what I said, or my tears while I said it, but they seem to have taken the lesson to heart with more laughter and kindness in their interactions.  So who knew?  The critique proved beneficial after all.  I've also cut 4,000 words out of the beginning to tighten it and get the plot moving.  I'll re-write a few parts I think are weak and then send it out for another round of darts.  If it gets skewered again, I'll lick my wounds and take a few creative writing classes.  Stubbornness can be a vice or virtue and is defined by the result.  During my moody, stubborn, teenage years my mom would chant this little verse to my unending irritation, "Patience is a virtue.  Virtue is a grace.  Grace is might pretty when you wear it on your face."  So I'm smiling while I stubbornly insist that the time I spend writing is a good thing, despite evidence to the contrary.   Of course, I could always close my eyes and play dead like Jared.  But where's the fun in that?  Besides, dead things stink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-141901728805197572?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/141901728805197572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=141901728805197572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/141901728805197572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/141901728805197572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/ostrich-possum-boy.html' title='Ostrich possum boy'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-1038236667262857892</id><published>2008-03-27T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T10:56:09.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death of Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-vfiFWBPoI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UkRCDNajImA/s1600-h/March+27+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-vfiFWBPoI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UkRCDNajImA/s200/March+27+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182481572862967426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring was buried last night under a five inch blanket of snow.  I am mourning the bitter loss and enduring yet another snow day with a snowy forecast all week.  Maybe this is really a nuclear winter and I just missed the headline.  Ugh.  I hope real bombs never fall.  Endless winter would be a cruel and unusual punishment for a person who loves plants.   And I was told that it didn't snow very much here.  HA!  Oh well, at least it's sunny until the next storm hits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-1038236667262857892?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/1038236667262857892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=1038236667262857892' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1038236667262857892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/1038236667262857892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/death-of-spring.html' title='Death of Spring'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-vfiFWBPoI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UkRCDNajImA/s72-c/March+27+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3001719441667805344</id><published>2008-03-26T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T11:07:37.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spectacular failures</title><content type='html'>Okay, I've recovered enough to blog about it, although it's still stinging a bit.  You know how I gave my manuscript to an agent I knew?  She hated it.  She said she didn't connect with any of my characters and that I should just put the manuscript away in a drawer and write magazine articles and short stories until I develop my voice.  I guess she didn't hear my scream of frustration after our talk.  I'm kidding.  I didn't scream out loud.   I gave it to her expecting her to point out parts that worked and parts that didn't, things she liked and things that needed to be revised.  Maybe a younger agent would have connected with the characters more, I don't know.  Because she's several decades older than I am, I thought she'd offer tips to improve it and hoped she would become an encouraging mentor.  I never dreamed she'd condemn my story altogether.  I guess that's the problem with dreams, they don't account for reality.  But that's the wonder of them too.  If you take a dream and work hard enough, it can become reality.   So for those of you who read parts of my story but were too nice to tell me it stunk, never fear, I've been told.  However, I'm choosing to take this as a life lesson verbalized in Meet the Robinson's - congratulations on the spectacular failure, may it lead to success in the future.  In the mean time, I'm enjoying the cheery flowers from my awesome husband, the fun company of my sister who is visiting, and the big bag of M&amp;amp;M's I hid in the cupboard.  Ah...the healing power of chocolate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3001719441667805344?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3001719441667805344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3001719441667805344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3001719441667805344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3001719441667805344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/spectacular-failures.html' title='Spectacular failures'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-6530222243671853357</id><published>2008-03-23T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T16:58:23.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miracles</title><content type='html'>Do you believe in miracles?  I do.  We had two this week.  They might seem simple or coincidental to others, but to us, they were much more.  First, with our savings-draining empty house that's still for sale in Ohio, Jeff has been trying to arrange extra work for the summer.  He found something that would work, but just barely.  Then out of the blue, he gets an e-mail asking if he'd like to earn some extra money this summer.  Would he like it???  YES!   So still smiling from that blessing, I get an e-mail from a rental agent about a house that I might like to rent for next year that hasn't been advertised yet.  On Friday, I take a look and despite it being the ugliest house I've ever seen, it's perfect.  It's 1000 sq ft. larger than what we're currently renting, set on six acres, and much, much, less expensive than our current rent.  So despite the brown shag, teal, blue, pink, gray, red plaid and green striped carpet (Yes, all of them.  In vivid color.), it is perfect.  Did I mention the lovely wallpaper?  Needless to say, it's hideous too.  But I can handle ugly for a year, at least we won't be tripping over each other all the time.  And then when we finally move into the house we're planning to build, we will appreciate it even more.  Besides, everyone has to live somewhere awful to tell stories about, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of stories, I handed mine to my agent friend.  She called me five hours later and asked to see me, but wouldn't tell me what she thinks of it until I visit with her.   I can't figure out if that's good or bad.  But I'll find out tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting a funny picture of Jared.  He's poked the top of his ear into his ear canal since he was six months ol&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-c5TlWBPnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jQw8kzOww4Q/s1600-h/Jared%27s+ears.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-c5TlWBPnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jQw8kzOww4Q/s200/Jared%27s+ears.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181172904917810802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d.  I wish I knew why.  Love of pig ears?  Tuning out strategy?  Martian child?  Who knows, but it is cute.  I'm suddenly realizing that he's growing up and the treasured moments of his babyhood are numbered.  He's my little cuddlebug, but at 30 pounds and almost 2 years of age, he's not so little anymore.  I had a wispy sense of nostalgia today when I saw a tiny newborn at church.  I've never been one to gush over babies.   Strange for a mother of six, I suppose, but I think knowing I'd have several of my own prevented the gooeyness from surfacing all these years. Now that my babies are growing up, the goo is seeping out.  Thank goodness there are lots of babies around to hold for a while and then give back.  It satisfies the nostalgia, but I still get an uninterrupted night's sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I hope you all had a lovely Easter.  It was 39 degrees here and rainy, but still inspirational.  At least it didn't snow!  The music program at church was wonderful and I really wished I could sing like the angels that did.  Ah well, maybe in the next life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-6530222243671853357?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/6530222243671853357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=6530222243671853357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6530222243671853357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/6530222243671853357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/do-you-believe-in-miracles-i-do.html' title='Miracles'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/R-c5TlWBPnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jQw8kzOww4Q/s72-c/Jared%27s+ears.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-7568889309265795454</id><published>2008-03-22T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T09:12:48.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Positive rejections</title><content type='html'>I learned my first lesson about rejections in the publishing world this week.  Anything personalized, even a rejection, is a good thing.  Bless Andrea Somberg.  I don't know the woman, but she took the time to write a very kind rejection letter and let me know that my story didn't pull her in the way she'd hoped.  I was elated, because 1) she wanted my story to pull her in so the query letter must have piqued her interest, 2) the title must be okay, and 3) now I know that the first chapter isn't compelling enough, even though I know the rest of the story is.  Time to re-tool the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, I discovered that I actually know a literary agent and she wants my manuscript tomorrow.   Yea!   I'd been told she was a retired author and visited with her hoping for a few writing and publishing tips.  Then as we were talking yesterday, I find out that she's still an active agent.  How did I miss that detail?  She wants the manuscript and a two page synopsis by tomorrow, which I'm finding is amazingly difficult to write.  How do I boil down 356 pages to two?  I guess I'll find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-7568889309265795454?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/7568889309265795454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=7568889309265795454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7568889309265795454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/7568889309265795454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/positive-rejections.html' title='Positive rejections'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-3386152696314327482</id><published>2008-03-17T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T08:10:44.331-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='agent rejections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ready for spring'/><title type='text'>Flying baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My baby flew an airplane on Saturday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And no, I don’t mean the paper kind.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Trevor went on a training weekend with Civil Air Patrol and actually flew a plane.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yes, that’s right; he’s flown a plane before he’s driven a car.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that must be an overlooked loophole in the vehicle operation laws.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fourteen year olds can legally fly airplanes, but they have to wait a year before they get an automobile learner’s permit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And even that’s kind of scary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Needless to say, Trevor came home absolutely delighted with himself and just asked me how much an airplane costs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Gasp!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Gag.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cough.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I was dreading his request for a car next year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A plane?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here’s some paper buddy, fold away.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s been duly informed that the only way he’ll get a plane is on the government’s dime, so he’d better get into the Air Force or Naval Academy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can hardly believe that Easter is next week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It just seems WAY too early.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I mean, it’s still winter here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All my hopes for a fun Spring Break and lots of trips to the park with the kids were dashed when it snowed twice (Ugh!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That flaky stuff is as welcome as dandruff at this point.), with a blustery biting wind that blew all week long.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We did go to the Palouse Discovery Science museum, although I use the term museum rather loosely here for lack of a better one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perhaps hands-on classroom would be a better description.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was expecting something like COSI in Columbus, Ohio and was dismayed to see that the local definition of science museum was a 50x50 foot room with tanks of lizards, rats, snakes, insects, etc…, a lot of educational toys, and a few science displays.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The biggest hit was the giant vat of raw lentils with buried plastic dinosaurs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The younger kids loved it having nothing to compare it to, but the older children with their fond memories of COSI were not impressed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The bleak weather last week didn’t help my outlook when I racked up more rejections from literary agents.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I thought the hard part was writing the book.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;HA!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love that part.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But this? &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This wishing and hoping and waiting for an agent to even reply with more than a form rejection is like an exclusive online dating service.&lt;span style=""&gt;  And I'm just not finding the right match.  &lt;/span&gt;It seems that getting anyone in the publishing industry to read it and want to publish it must be the hard part no one told me about.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I posted my query letter on an online writer’s forum and after getting ripped apart, re-wrote it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hope the revised letter will be more successful at catching an agent’s attention.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think some writers must be lying when they breeze over that aspect of the business and make it sound so easy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank goodness for the few dead honest writers that shared their difficult experience on their blogs (Janet Evanovich and Shannon Hale).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It makes the disappointment easier to deal with.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think I’ll just start outlining the sequel to write over the summer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I have to help Jeff with a grant before I can actually start writing it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m imagining my crocuses and daffodils beginning to bloom in Ohio.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sniff.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And we still haven’t had any bites on our house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Grrr…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Oh, well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Eventually, we’ll offload it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, I hope you all are blessed with a great week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I, for one, could do with a dose of beautiful weather.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But hope is the message of spring, isn’t it? &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So here’s hoping for a better week and at least one partial manuscript request.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Take care.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-3386152696314327482?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/3386152696314327482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=3386152696314327482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3386152696314327482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/3386152696314327482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/flying-baby.html' title='Flying baby'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1751111132184531866.post-8256486450842347504</id><published>2008-03-16T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T00:18:46.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Minerva?</title><content type='html'>That's the first question I'm asked.  Where did the name Minerva come from?  It came about because I was a bookworm stuck on Greco-Roman mythology.  As I bored my family silly with a comparison of the whole pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses to the Roman equivalents, my father said "you've graced us with enough wisdom for one night, Minerva," and sent me to bed.    Embarrassed by the dismissal and detesting the name itself, I forbade my family from ever calling me by that name again.  I mean, although Jennifer was the most generic name for a girl born in the early 1970's, Minerva was so unique that it landed on my worst names of all time list.  I hated it.  And because I hated it, naturally it stuck.  As I grew older, I stopped minding so much.  After all, Minerva (known as Pallas Athena to the Greeks), was the goddess of wisdom, poetry, medicine, commerce, crafts, and the inventor of music.  Pretty impressive attributes for an ancient female deity.  Ovid called her the "&lt;i&gt;goddess of a thousand works."  &lt;/i&gt;And seriously, there are days when keeping up with my family requires a thousand works.  So although I don't hold any religious significance to the goddess the ancient Romans named Minerva, I wish I had most of her attributes.  Life's too short for me to learn all I'd like to know and do all I'd like to do.  But I'm always trying.  Wisdom is not gained by a degree, but little by little in degrees.  So I've named my blog, not after what I am, but what I'd like to become.  And after all, doesn't every woman want to feel like a goddess sometimes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1751111132184531866-8256486450842347504?l=jenseegmiller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/feeds/8256486450842347504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1751111132184531866&amp;postID=8256486450842347504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8256486450842347504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1751111132184531866/posts/default/8256486450842347504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenseegmiller.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-minerva.html' title='Why Minerva?'/><author><name>Jen Seegmiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18253425523466960266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nDbrSaHvvhc/Sf58sRAfIoI/AAAAAAAAASY/6QBLh-6zx0c/S220/jen+head+shot+closeup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
