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Cellular Cake Final Picture

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Here it is…

    

 

and a comparison:

 

                          

      

 

 

Pretty Awesome! 

 

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Cellular Cake

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My son is a sophomore in high school this year.  Last week they had OGTs (Ohio Graduation Tests).  I’m not really pro-standardized testing at all.  Yeah, yeah…the “homeschool mom” is coming out in me.  🙂  Anyhow…because of all their hard work…in Biology class, they are having a “CELL-ebration Week”.  🙂  The kids are divided into groups…and each group is bringing in a cake with various items placed upon it (Fruit Roll-Ups, Mounds Bars, MnM’s, Twizzlers, etc.). 

 Somehow, this will end up looking like a diagram of an animal cell.  Yummy! 

 

Here are a couple of the kids: 

      

This might not turn out so good.

Final Pictures Later…  🙂

To Be a Child…

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When I was a little girl, I had a special, safe place.  I walked through the door…and it was paradise.  The smells, the sounds, the warmth of the love.  I lived in a wonderful home…but this place was different.  More magical than home.  There were tents to be made, pies to fill, and cookies to bake. 

What a glorious place to be a child.  They were my Grandparents…and more.  Mim and Pap.  My life.  They survived the Great Depression, WWII, and my brother and me. 

Pap taught me how to shoot craps and shoot a rifle.  He taught me history and spelling, and math.  He taught me what it meant to be a soldier in a great war, and that sometimes the war stays with you long after it has ended.

Mim taught me to read, to cook, to bake, and to sew.  She taught me The Lord’s Prayer, and Amazing Grace.  She sang about “that lonesome whipperwill” and “Ol’ Shep”.   She taught me to enjoy nature, and explore it…that getting outside clears your head and your spirit.  She taught me that even when you have difficult times…you keep moving. 

Oh how I miss that special, safe place.  The years have passed.  They take their toll.  Sometimes it seems like it was all a dream. 

That’s the way life is, isn’t it?  Things happen…they’re real.  You hold on to them throughout the years.  Little bits fall away…so you hold on tighter.  Keeping them all gathered up in your arms. 

 

Rain.

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 It’s raining here.  Gray, dreary skies.  Muddy yard.  Muddy puppy feet. 

 TWELVE MUDDY PUPPY FEET!  

 

                     

  

 

 Thank goodness for my Swiffer.

 

                                 I feel gloomy.  My family feels gloomy.  I’ve got to brighten this house up a little.  Days like this drag us down.  I can’t imagine living where the darkness stays for months.  People go mad from it.  I know I would. 

We tried one of the lights for Seasonal Affective Disorder…but not much luck with it.  It was very expensive.  So we sent it back. 

Do you have issues with low light, or the winter months affecting your moods?  Increasing your depression?  What do you do to try and overcome it? 

Indoor Tanning helps me.  I’m not endorsing this, because it is known to cause skin cancer and premature aging.  This should be enough to scare me, I know, 

But the vibrant light is energizing to me.  The intense heat does wonders for my fibromyalgia and arthritis.  Not so good for my skin. 

A vacation would be nice right about now.  When we were visiting St. Thomas…our taxi driver called the rain “Liquid Sunshine”.  Isn’t that a nice way to put it?  It was different there though…the rain fell for a few minutes…but the sun stayed. 

So nice. 

 So warm…

so NOT Ohio.  :/

 

Blog Title

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I’ve changed the name of this blog so many times.  It’s driving me crazy. 

 Too cutsie, too personal, too weird, too morbid.  I have all these ideas…but nothing looks right at the top of the page.  I didn’t think it would be so hard.  I should’ve known though.  I can’t even decide on a purse…or a watch…or an ice cream flavor. 

Decisions, decisions, decisions.  I hate them.  I want the choice, but not the pressure. 

 I’m so annoying.  I annoy myself. 

Poor Puppy

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I’m having our “foster” puppy neutered today.  My son told him that no matter what happens today…he’s still a man.  

  I guess guys have to stick together.  🙂

 

Real Life…

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 I love to read blogs about real life, but I just hate it when I feel like my life stinks when I finish reading.  I want to be inspired and encouraged, but sometimes…I like to read about the rough stuff.   Some writers make their “world” seem so perfect.  So neat and clean and spectacular. 

I want to know that other people stumble and fall flat on their faces just like I do. 

I want to know that their kids and husband drive them nuts sometimes.   I want to know that they don’t always have a picture perfect home, and sometimes wish they could throw up their hands and say I quit!  I want to know that they get up in the morning, look in the mirror, and wonder what happened!…I want to it to be real…and sometimes real is ugly…and funny…and depressing. 

I was subscribed to a few blogs that were beautiful…but made me feel rotten.   I hate feeling rotten. 

I’m not a perfect wife.  I’m not a perfect Mom.  I get mad and blow my stack.  I don’t feel like running into the kitchen throwing daisies and fluttering around in my apron while cooking supper.  Supper usually gives me a headache.  I’d much rather load everyone up and go out…but that’s not often possible, because of money…or the lack thereof.  Not saying this is a good thing about me…just a true thing.  I want my house to always be spotless and all the laundry done.  I want to “want” to make my family healthy home cooked meals everyday, and can and freeze and preserve.   I want the bills to be paid on time.  I want all my flowerbeds weeded and the dogs bathed and brushed. 

Lets just say…I’m working on it. 

If you want to share my real life…the good, the bad, and the ugly… Stick around.    🙂 

~Marci