<?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-17353026</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:41:41.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Michele'sMusings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-5782040488113532083</id><published>2009-02-03T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T21:14:26.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My youngest son was eating some of those little fruit shaped candies today. He called me over to show me the Banana Pie he made.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ckr6winSbMM/SYkjyf34mOI/AAAAAAAAABI/iuhX3H7bHBw/s1600-h/DSC00480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298805787034425570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ckr6winSbMM/SYkjyf34mOI/AAAAAAAAABI/iuhX3H7bHBw/s320/DSC00480.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-5782040488113532083?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/5782040488113532083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=5782040488113532083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5782040488113532083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5782040488113532083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2009/02/pie.html' title='Pie'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ckr6winSbMM/SYkjyf34mOI/AAAAAAAAABI/iuhX3H7bHBw/s72-c/DSC00480.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-2076180173436690036</id><published>2008-05-12T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T12:17:47.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roadside Attractions</title><content type='html'>Once a week I make a 170 km round trip to take my son to his music lesson. The route takes me through some farmland and some wilder places. It's not unusual to see deer, both bounding across the road ahead of me, and lying dead along the roadside. Other than that the drive is pretty uneventful.Yesterday we were driving along when a group of ravens took to the air. "Probably a deer", I thought to myself. Then I noticed that one of the ravens was a lot larger than the rest and had a white tail. "I think I just saw an eagle!", I said to my son. He looked all around, but he missed it. On the way home I kept an eye out for the road kill. Sure enough it was a deer, and sitting beside it was a bald eagle. Wow!A little closer to home I noticed a couple trucks and a bunch of cattle alongside the road. My first thought was that the cattle had gotten out of their fenced pasture. When we came up alongside, we realized that the cattle were being driven up the highway. In addition to the trucks, there were a couple people on ATVs herding the cattle along. They'd come from a couple kilometers if the evidence left on the highway is any indication. I've never seen that before either. I might have to start taking my camera on the drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Originally posted on Facebook 9:34pm Wednesday, Oct 24, 2007 )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-2076180173436690036?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/2076180173436690036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=2076180173436690036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/2076180173436690036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/2076180173436690036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2008/05/roadside-attractions.html' title='Roadside Attractions'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-7800246451530066583</id><published>2008-05-12T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T11:54:22.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cue that Disney Song!</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, I was looking at my brother’s Friends list on Facebook. Although they have never met each other, he and my friend Melanie have a mutual friend, but I don't know most of his Facebook friends. Anyway, this time I noticed a first name I recognized, although the last name was different. I went to check this person’s Friends list and sure enough, her parents were on her list so it had to be her. While I was looking to see if her parents, brother or hometown friends were on her list, I noticed a familiar face; one of the instructors that was coming to teach a class at the scrapbooking conference I was helping to organize. I mentally filed the information away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple weeks later, I was taking the class at the scrapbooking convention, and the instructor mentioned that her friend Keira had driven up with her. “Is that Keira W?”, I asked. Sure enough, it was. We chatted a couple minutes there and then, and got together later that day for a longer visit. Of course, she was way more surprised to see me than I was to see her. Keira is more my sister’s age, but coming from a small town, we know a lot of the same people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happens to me a lot. In the past 15 years, there have been several people from my hometown move here. Years ago, I was shopping downtown and someone I didn’t recognize asked me if I was Michele Maiden name. It turned out that she is the younger sister of a girl I used to figure skate with, and her father was my home-room teacher for grade 7 or  8. We run into each other about every six months and get caught up on each other’s news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time I was at my husband’s church and they had a new priest they were interviewing. They didn’t announce his name or anything, so I hadn’t a clue who he was. We sat near him a lunch and somehow, it came out that he was from my hometown. At that point I asked him who he was. Turned out he was the brother of a friend of my sister’s and I occasionally hung out with his older brother in high school. To make it weirder, my oldest son has the same first name as he does, and when I chose my younger son’s first name, his younger brother was the only other person I’d ever heard of with the same name. Anyway, he was hired as the rector and we got to be pretty good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same church there was one parishoner that I thought looked familiar, but I thought it was just that she’d moved away for a while. It wasn’t until I’d known her for a few years that I discovered we’d both gone to the same university, at the same time, and we had taken some of the same courses. No wonder she looked familiar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first moved here I started volunteering at the library. One day, the new director of the library system came to check out our branch. Several of the volunteers were invited to meet her. When we were introduced, I said I already knew her; I was Michele Maiden Name. I used to baby-sit for her. I drove one of my fellow volunteers crazy. Frequently I'd point out some item; a poster, or a magazine article, and say "I know that guy!"  I'm sure she thought I was making things up. The day the director showed up was priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark comes from a big city. He rarely has this happen to him. I come from a small town in the middle of nowhere, and it happens all the time. The only place he beats me is in Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, he's three degrees separated. I'm four degrees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-7800246451530066583?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/7800246451530066583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=7800246451530066583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/7800246451530066583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/7800246451530066583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2008/05/cue-that-disney-song.html' title='Cue that Disney Song!'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-3885242523006609185</id><published>2007-12-24T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T18:28:28.644-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_3WwVahkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5Ko3cs05_Pk/s1600-h/DSC05131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147604869411669570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_3WwVahkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5Ko3cs05_Pk/s320/DSC05131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Our baby, Cameron turned ten this year. (Wait, it gets worse.) Now that he’s old enough, he likes to hang out at the Youth Centre up the street and play Guitar Hero. He’s in his final year of Cubs, where he’s a sixer. He’s a downhill skier, and last winter he mastered the art of going up the T-bar. He started curling last winter and is steadily improving at the game. He and his brother attended a curling workshop in Bonnyville earlier this fall and met Brent McDonald and Carter Rycroft. Despite his fear of public speaking, he performed a poem in the Cold Lake Music Festival. Although he was registered in the wrong class for piano at the festival, but he rose to the occasion and played his piece with skill and self-confidence. He’s currently working towards the Grade 2 Royal Conservatory piano exam. Cameron has a wacky sense of humour. He’d be the class clown if he wasn’t homeschooled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_52gVahlI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EnQnb8DLlWU/s1600-h/DSC04742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147607613895771730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_52gVahlI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EnQnb8DLlWU/s320/DSC04742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;David is now 13, so we are also the parents of a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;(I told you it gets worse). He hangs out at the Youth Center too, where he’s on the Steering Committee, and a volunteer DJ/Light Operator. He’s also a member of Teen Central, the city library’s teen advisory board. They have food at every meeting, plus he’s the only guy, you do the math. Actually he does a lot of volunteering with Teen Central, including making cotton candy at various events. Last winter, David decided that skiing was more fun than snowboarding, although the fact that he has skis but not snowboard gear, probably had something to do with the decision. He’s been curling for the past three seasons. Maybe in a few years you’ll be hearing about the McGuire Brothers rink. In June, his Scout troop went on a canoe trip along the Beaver River. He and some of his fellow Scouts earned their Flatwater Canoeing A certification from Paddle Canada. In the Music Festival in March, he earned the Woodwind Certificate of Excellence and performed in the final concert. He’s also preparing for a Royal Conservatory exam, on flute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_6yAVahmI/AAAAAAAAAAc/jNcuqzOhHio/s1600-h/DSC05006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147608636097988194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_6yAVahmI/AAAAAAAAAAc/jNcuqzOhHio/s320/DSC05006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mark is still (!) working at the LOX facility on the base. In September, he spent 3 weeks in California learning how to operate a liquid oxygen/liquid nitrogen generating system. It wasn’t all work, he went to Huntington Beach, toured a winery, caught an Angels game, and visited Universal Studios. Between the trip to California, air shows, and LOX escort duties, he spent less than 2.5 months at home between June and September. At least he’s not been deployed to “an undisclosed desert location”, yet. Mark just started his third year as a volunteer with the CSPS (Canadian Ski Patrol System) at Kinosoo Ridge. He’s an assistant patrol leader this year. He patrolled at least one day almost every weekend last winter. This fall, he stepped down as Troop Scouter for the Medley Scouts, although he’s still a leader. He also volunteers at the Youth Centre as a chaperone and for the MFRC, and helps coach curling. In his spare time he likes to make wine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_9vwVahnI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AvckEYzkOgo/s1600-h/s620395551_703554_7291.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147611895978165874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_9vwVahnI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AvckEYzkOgo/s320/s620395551_703554_7291.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I started a fantastic new job, part-time circulation clerk at the local public library, in March. I'm like a kid in a candy store! I turned my love of rubber stamping into a business, and became a Stampin’ Up! demonstrator in June, or as a friend said, went from user to pusher. I still play alto saxophone in the 4 Wing Band. There weren’t any big trips or recording sessions this year, but the band played their final concert in support of the Great Escape Memorial Project, in June at the Vic Juba Theatre, in Lloydminster. I didn’t ski quite as much as the guys did last winter but still spent a fair amount of time out at the Ridge where I skied every run except the Terrain Park at least once, including The Bowl and didn’t fall, ever. I'm feeling a little old though. I attended my high school reunion this summer. It was great to see so many of my high school friends, not so great to realize it’s been 25 years since graduation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_-qwVahoI/AAAAAAAAAAs/XARYE45rs00/s1600-h/DSC04957.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147612909590447746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_-qwVahoI/AAAAAAAAAAs/XARYE45rs00/s320/DSC04957.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Piper took her first major trip this year, to Fort Smith with the rest of the family. She proved to be a great traveller, and reacted to all the strangers very calmly. She got a nasty surprise when she drank some water at the Salt Flats. She’s very much a comfort-loving dog; we are forever kicking her off our beds or the couch. She hates loud noises like thunder and the smoke detector. Funny thing though, jets don’t bother her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-3885242523006609185?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/3885242523006609185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=3885242523006609185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/3885242523006609185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/3885242523006609185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-update.html' title='Christmas Update'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_ckr6winSbMM/R2_3WwVahkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5Ko3cs05_Pk/s72-c/DSC05131.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-5957897452765139574</id><published>2007-06-06T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T21:30:53.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was Camp Day at my former place of work. Our location invited local VIPs and groups to participate behind the counter. I had planned to volunteer on behalf of the MFRC, but apparently I was the only one who was able to go. Instead, I joined my current coworkers as they did a shift. I started out on the front counter, doing coffee, but I got shifted over to Soup and Sandwich. The staffer there pretty much treated me like I'd never left, she did the stuff like getting bagels and buns ready to bake, and let me do the sandwiches, "Call me if you need me". It was funny to talk to some of my former coworkers who think I'm crazy to like my new job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rode my bike home from work today, for the first time. I've had the bike for 16 years, and it still had the original tires on it. Mark put new ones on for me over the weekend. It still needs to have the brakes and gears fixed, but at least it's rideable now.&lt;br /&gt;I actually drove the car in to work because of the Camp Day thing, then Mark rode my bike into town, left it at the Library, then walked over to get the car so he could use it.&lt;br /&gt;I caught my pant leg in the gears, and tore them, and my bag was too heavy, but all in all the ride was fine. I've used Mark's bike a couple times in the past month, but my bike is way more comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Squid's youth group had a year-end barbeque out at the lake. Mark was supposed to work late, so I figured I'd grab a picnic for Hamster and me, and we'd hang out at the beach, too. I dropped off the boys and was on my way to get our picnic when Mark called. He was home from work and wanted me to pick him up. So back home I went, got some food, then back to the park. The boys splashed around in the water, but it was too cold to swim. I saw a grouse with a bunch of chicks, a pair of geese with 4 or 5 goslings, a muskrat, a beaver, and oodles of ducks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-5957897452765139574?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/5957897452765139574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=5957897452765139574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5957897452765139574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5957897452765139574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/06/today-was-camp-day-at-my-former-place.html' title=''/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-5146240033222405715</id><published>2007-05-22T16:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T16:29:49.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even more books</title><content type='html'>What Your Clothes Say About You, Trinny Woodall &amp; Susannah Constantine&lt;br /&gt;What Not to Wear For Every Occasion, Trinny Woodall &amp;amp; Susannah Constantine&lt;br /&gt;Kidnapped, Jan Burke&lt;br /&gt;The Night Lawyer, Michelle Spring&lt;br /&gt;The Journal of Mortifying Moments, Robyn Harding&lt;br /&gt;Gallows Thief, Bernard Cornwell&lt;br /&gt;The Cat’s Meow, Emily Carmichael&lt;br /&gt;Chasing Rainbow, Sue Civil-Brown&lt;br /&gt;Amazing Gracie, A Dog’s Tale, Dan Dye &amp;amp; Mark Beckloff&lt;br /&gt;Paid In Blood, Mel Odom&lt;br /&gt;The Perfect Fake, Barbara Parker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-5146240033222405715?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/5146240033222405715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=5146240033222405715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5146240033222405715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5146240033222405715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/05/even-more-books.html' title='Even more books'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-5666807372088002819</id><published>2007-05-05T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T10:42:13.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't read all the time...</title><content type='html'>but close:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dating Can Be Murder&lt;/em&gt;, Jennifer Apodaca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Batteries Required&lt;/em&gt;, Jennifer Apodaca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dying to Meet You&lt;/em&gt;, Jennifer Apodaca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Laced&lt;/em&gt;, Carol Higgins Clark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Design on a Crime&lt;/em&gt;,  Ginny Aiken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Decorating Schemes&lt;/em&gt;, Ginny Aiken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Interior Motives&lt;/em&gt;, Ginny Aiken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pen Pals,&lt;/em&gt; Olivia Goldsmith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Twelve Sharp&lt;/em&gt;, Janet Evanovich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naked&lt;/em&gt;, David Sedaris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Fourth Bear&lt;/em&gt;, Jasper Fford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Squid's camp this weekend at Ft. Edmonton was cut short due to Snow! and High Winds! that wrecked one of the tents!&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Freeze and I are going to a party with his ski patrol buddies and their SOs tonight, but I expect a call from Squid at some point asking for a ride home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-5666807372088002819?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/5666807372088002819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=5666807372088002819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5666807372088002819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5666807372088002819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-dont-read-all-time.html' title='I don&apos;t read all the time...'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-5234503992333013094</id><published>2007-04-28T08:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T09:13:15.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And more books.</title><content type='html'>I've really tried to not bring home every interesting looking book that crosses my path. I have to keep telling myself that the books will still be there tomorrow, next week, etc. Anyway, here's a few more I've read recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dublin 4 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Maeve Binchy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ninja Soccer Moms&lt;/em&gt;  Jennifer Apodaca, &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Size 12 is not fat&lt;/em&gt;  Meg Cabot, &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Size 14 is not fat either&lt;/em&gt;  Meg Cabot,&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Trouble With Tulip&lt;/em&gt;  Mindy Starns Clark,&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inside Job&lt;/em&gt;  Connie Willis,&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-5234503992333013094?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/5234503992333013094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=5234503992333013094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5234503992333013094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/5234503992333013094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-more-books.html' title='And more books.'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-8504582758164215183</id><published>2007-04-17T10:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T11:04:57.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lord Harry&lt;/em&gt; Catherine Coulter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;grave surprise&lt;/em&gt; Charlaine Harris&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Birth of Venus&lt;/em&gt; Sarah Dunant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette: A Novel&lt;/em&gt; Carolly Erickson &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Breathing Room&lt;/em&gt; Susan Elizabeth Phillips &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;When She Was Bad...&lt;/em&gt; Louise Bagshawe &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Long Time Coming&lt;/em&gt; Sandra Brown &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abundance, a Novel of Marie Antoinette&lt;/em&gt; Sena Jeter Naslund &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-8504582758164215183?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/8504582758164215183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=8504582758164215183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/8504582758164215183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/8504582758164215183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/04/more-books.html' title='More Books'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-117621885410007898</id><published>2007-04-10T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T08:50:16.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Books I've read recently</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Weep No More, My Lady &lt;/em&gt;Mary Higgins Clark&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eleven on Top&lt;/em&gt; Janet Evanovich&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Carriage House&lt;/em&gt; Carla Neggers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Woman in White&lt;/em&gt; Wilkie Collins&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stonebrook Cottage&lt;/em&gt; Carla Neggers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Holmes on the Range&lt;/em&gt; Steve Hockensmith &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last Voyage of the Valentina&lt;/em&gt; Santa Montefiore &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Final Confession Of Mabel Stark&lt;/em&gt; Robert Hough&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Actually, the list should be longer, but I can't remember the titles of the rest of the books. Guess they were that memorable!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-117621885410007898?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/117621885410007898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=117621885410007898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/117621885410007898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/117621885410007898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/04/books-ive-read-recently.html' title='Books I&apos;ve read recently'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-117553955967852355</id><published>2007-04-02T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T12:05:46.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little advice</title><content type='html'>Never start a new job the same week that you are planning a convention and teaching classes at that convention, especially if there is a music festival going on that your child is playing in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First the new job. On Wednesday, I started working at my new job. There's a lot to learn, but as long as I stay calm, it seems to be going well. Everyone is great to work with, and how can you hate a job that had birthday cake the first day, a surprise birthday lunch the second, and a catered grand opening party the third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that this would be my dream job, and so far, so good even with the steep learning curve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I was approached to be on the planning committee for a scrapbooking convention, the first of it's kind to be held here. We had modest goals, and surpassed almost all of them. Along the way we learned a lot, and I made two new friends. This past weekend, we had the conference, over 70 scrapbookers attended, along with 10 vendors, 20 or so just taking classes and a bunch of people who just came to shop at the vendor show. Overall the reviews have been great. We had people who drove 6 hours to come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught a couple classes, one on scrapbooking for beginners, and the second on cardmaking. Both were well received, and I had a lot of fun teaching them. It's neat to see other people's creativity get sparked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music festival is always a busy couple weeks. This year Hamster was performing in the piano and speech categories and Squid was in the instrumental and speech categories. Hamster had bigtime stage fright at the first speech event, and ended up not being ajudicated, although he did manage to recite his poem after the other participants were ajudicated. An hour later, he got up and performed his piano piece quite well, without any stage fright. He got a decent mark, better than I expected. The next day, both boys performed poetry, and Hamster got up on stage and recited his poem almost perfectly. Squid did fine on his poem, too and he ended up getting a medal for Canadian Poetry Solo. The next week, it was Squid's turn to play. He did two pieces, and did very well on both. He was awarded the woodwind certificate of excellence and was asked to play one piece in the showcase concert! Unfortunately, I couldn't go to the concert, because the band I play in had a gig. A gig on the first night of the scrapbooking conference!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-117553955967852355?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/117553955967852355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=117553955967852355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/117553955967852355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/117553955967852355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2007/04/little-advice.html' title='A little advice'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-115507072328606544</id><published>2006-08-08T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T13:58:43.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Games Night</title><content type='html'>I grew up in a family that played games. We played cribbage, Scrabble, Monopoly,  Aggrivation, Balderdash and Trivial Pursuit,  as well as all kinds of card games.  I now own a lot of board games, but I don't get to play them that often.  Mr. Freeze doesn't like to play any kind of game, board or card, the boys are too young and I'm a bit shy to ask my friends if they'd like to come over to play in case they think I'm even more nerdier than they already know I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago,  of my band friends mentioned that she likes playing board games and that  she and a couple other women in the band had been talking about getting together for a night of game fun. We decided that we'd get together Sunday and after emails and phone calls, I ended up hosting. (Damn cat allergies! ;-))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There ended up being 5 of us and we all had at least 2 games to contribute. We had Apples to Apples, Pictionary, Balderdash, Taboo, Cranium, Scrabble and two editions of Trivial Pursuit. there was one other game but I can't remember what it is called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started off with Balderdash. That game went pretty fast. I loved it when I was younger, but now, not so much. Most of us were able to pick out the right definition, and more than once, one of us gave a   definition that was pretty close to the right one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we switched to Taboo. But first we ate. Someone brought a cake, someone else brought chips and salsa, and I had a crab dip I'd bought plus I made my famous bean dip. We also finished the first bottle of wine and started the second. Weirdest wine name prize goes to "Cat Piss on a Gooseberry Bush".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taboo was the most fun. We know each other well enough that we could often use our shared experiences to get around the taboo words. We'll play Taboo again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we played Trivial Pursuit. We threw out the rules after a couple rounds.  We  gave hints and if someone else knew the answer, they could steal the pie, except it's not stealing when the rest of the players insist you take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended off the evening with Scrabble. Scrabble champs we are not! I got stuck with the Q. I think the highest word scored was worth 28 points, and that used a double word score,  as well as forming a word across and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By that time it was pretty late (for us) so Mr. Freeze drove everyone home, so nobody drank and drove.  I hope this becomes a semi-regular event!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-115507072328606544?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/115507072328606544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=115507072328606544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/115507072328606544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/115507072328606544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2006/08/games-night.html' title='Games Night'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-113625825693083693</id><published>2006-01-02T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T19:17:36.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ski Bums</title><content type='html'>We went skiing again today. I can see a big improvement in Hamster’s self-confidence, just compared to last week. Last week he really didn’t want to ride the chair lift. I went up with him every time and had to hold his hand when we got off. One time it stopped for about 5 minutes and as it bounced and swayed, he sat there saying "It’s okay, it’s okay, we won’t be stuck up here, it’s okay." We took Slow and Easy down the hill each time and the one time we thought we’d take Lift Line he decided it was too steep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     This time was a different story. He rode up with me a couple times, once more under duress because he really wanted to go up with his dad, then it happened. He didn’t wait for me at the bottom and got on a chair by himself. I could see him trying to put the bar down but his arm was just a little too short. I was scared for him, but the lifty couldn’t do anything. I got on a couple chairs later and yelled to him to scoot over and lower the bar from the side. The people in front of me yelled back that the bar was down. He’d figured it out for himself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     It was the same with the skiing itself. He wanted to ski with me for the first couple runs, then he was off with his brother. Down the Lift Line. The next run I did the Lift Line with him but I couldn’t keep up. I decided to let him go it alone the last time, I stayed on Slow and Easy, he did Lift Line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     It’s been a different story for Squid. He loves to ski and has from the first time he tried it. He got boots for Christmas and a friend loaned him skis, so he doesn’t have to wait for us to get our rentals. By the time we got our skis on, he’d already gone up the chair lift and was back down. He probably did twice as much skiing as I did today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-113625825693083693?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/113625825693083693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=113625825693083693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/113625825693083693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/113625825693083693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2006/01/ski-bums.html' title='Ski Bums'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-112916644899720679</id><published>2005-10-12T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T18:20:49.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a muffle-something band geek</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This one time, on a band trip, I walked into a Sony store with a couple of my fellow band members. There were a bunch of big screen TVs playing Lord of the Rings, and a couple playing some movie with a marching band scene. Guess which one we all focused on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This past weekend I went on a band trip. We'd been asked to be the house band for a veteran's group convention. We did 4 gigs in three days, but still managed to have a lot of fun. Not that playing isn't fun, but unload the bus, set up the gear, play, pack up the gear, load up the bus, gets old fast. Especially the unload and load part.  We did a concert at a legion, a military style parade (no clowns or floats), and a dinner/dance. We played a bunch of 40's type music for the dance and it was cool to have people actually get up and dance. It's the trips like these that help us all get to be better friends, even though what happens on band trips stays on band trips. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-112916644899720679?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/feeds/112916644899720679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17353026&amp;postID=112916644899720679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/112916644899720679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/112916644899720679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2005/10/confessions-of-muffle-something-band.html' title='Confessions of a muffle-something band geek'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17353026.post-112821634119591771</id><published>2005-10-01T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T18:25:41.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, me with a blog!</title><content type='html'>Yes, I've taken the plunge and started my own blog. I'm not sure what you'll find here, 'cause I'm not sure yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17353026-112821634119591771?l=musingbymichele.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/112821634119591771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17353026/posts/default/112821634119591771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://musingbymichele.blogspot.com/2005/10/wow-me-with-blog.html' title='Wow, me with a blog!'/><author><name>Michele</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12241796987546259501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
