tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16175597047936579642024-02-21T10:29:56.421-08:00All Denise, All the TimeDenise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-40304863065495319152011-10-05T09:48:00.000-07:002011-10-05T09:48:54.501-07:00The Non-Sewer SewsFew things can make me bring out my needle like my love of autumn. This year I'm trying my hand at fabric pumpkins. Here's my first try:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zr8CGNDRiYAp1J2wY89DSaOy8b8kmGwFDuZn-dCc1qPTHlvyVzDryAwwOzD1MwnJca3ETwO9ZKEOqocnQldJYquGr_iOeQP_b70UPYXGTpdo5k0WNxx6eRjAYwcRHzrRBRF0mJfIFgTW/s1600/green_pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zr8CGNDRiYAp1J2wY89DSaOy8b8kmGwFDuZn-dCc1qPTHlvyVzDryAwwOzD1MwnJca3ETwO9ZKEOqocnQldJYquGr_iOeQP_b70UPYXGTpdo5k0WNxx6eRjAYwcRHzrRBRF0mJfIFgTW/s320/green_pumpkin.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green velvet pumpkin</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Want to make your own? Here's an <a href="http://thompsonfamily.typepad.com/thompson_familylife/2009/11/fabric-pumpkin-tutorial.html">awesome tutorial</a>, based on <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/how-to/fabric-pumpkins">Martha Stewart's instructions</a>.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-18791836013515085732011-09-19T08:06:00.000-07:002011-09-19T08:06:42.153-07:00HPV and VaccinationThe current debate on the HPV vaccine is driving me crazy. The mandated vaccines, the cost, the lack of insurance coverage, but that isn't why I'm writing about it. What irritates me is that once again the burden of protection is placed on women and girls, with no treatment for men -- the carriers.<br />
I keep remembering an Ann Lander column from 1987 or so, when someone wrote in and excitedly described a new method of birth control: a robot IUD that could zap sperm coming into a woman's uterus! Amazing! Space-age technology inside our bodies! Ann Landers's reply? She'll be more excited when they come up with something similar for men.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-8427077628929404632011-09-18T08:32:00.000-07:002011-09-18T08:32:28.443-07:00Crazy Cat LadyHalloween decorating is fun, but why stop with the house? My cats should benefit, too. So when I dropped by a local yarn store that's going out of business, I bought some "eyelash" yarn to make into cat leis. Not collars, mind you, because cats should only wear collars with break-away fasteners and I don't have any around.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSlZuqFxtUN2O3uC3nIB5yam-SL6wX-XE4urzLcPodxl3QQemkOC03bCVx1qYwihUHSgIK8peF5agnd7l-yAuZCan2VK2B-lF3skw8P3z_w9DdgVEklKq_8D0P5dudExKWDEJDBRsZM0Zq/s1600/DSC_8890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSlZuqFxtUN2O3uC3nIB5yam-SL6wX-XE4urzLcPodxl3QQemkOC03bCVx1qYwihUHSgIK8peF5agnd7l-yAuZCan2VK2B-lF3skw8P3z_w9DdgVEklKq_8D0P5dudExKWDEJDBRsZM0Zq/s320/DSC_8890.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickle shows off his new necklace.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1VlUTsw0hwqjdJijBy6hqhdo_73mbYR2pSX_EqOTNy0fgvR50Wbj2VaV8gJqho6SRxh02kZcqgZ_fLCVgeAnqyPtSmA9o-tc2XXTh7imXLDPE-x0kG4G8BEFiKkrnBh7s5V9q-CgueVZ/s1600/DSC_8875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1VlUTsw0hwqjdJijBy6hqhdo_73mbYR2pSX_EqOTNy0fgvR50Wbj2VaV8gJqho6SRxh02kZcqgZ_fLCVgeAnqyPtSmA9o-tc2XXTh7imXLDPE-x0kG4G8BEFiKkrnBh7s5V9q-CgueVZ/s320/DSC_8875.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taco just wants to know where his dinner is.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Oh yeah. I definitely need to try this in new colors.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-86361011302007423892011-09-13T12:09:00.000-07:002011-09-13T12:09:15.729-07:00SeptemberI hate to say it, but I think that summer is over. It's past Labor Day, the leaves are turning here in SE Wisconsin and school has begun. The calendar says that autumn doesn't begin for another 10 days, but I don't think that the upcoming equinox has much to say about the matter. Don't get me wrong, I love fall. I just wish the sun didn't set so early.<br />
<br />
With that in mind, I love autumn. For many reasons, including the Weird Pumpkin season. Here are a few gourds I picked at the grocery store and farmer's market. I don't know all of the varieties because none of them were labeled, so comment if you can identify any of these!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4uDOYxANGHm0l8lUZbzNPBJGmvgQ9J64Tvy-Bob08yklgNaZaGpM7D4WpmfJCXEXmpPqwfcbuXSWuEL6YxSRYQlkj5uvcN6QgGfR4iF7Am7jsrMg9UYpybtAOmxhX29RseYWvq3c9YYH/s1600/DSC_8781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4uDOYxANGHm0l8lUZbzNPBJGmvgQ9J64Tvy-Bob08yklgNaZaGpM7D4WpmfJCXEXmpPqwfcbuXSWuEL6YxSRYQlkj5uvcN6QgGfR4iF7Am7jsrMg9UYpybtAOmxhX29RseYWvq3c9YYH/s320/DSC_8781.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Decorative gourd</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvy-epmkxpp2TUcPKI81AlNjIE-HXiA-pkZSJIsAybYE-XHo-1zOJ3bcAVsG3tOFs62t56yPDLDvu87cb2kW9PlYhf1plHKoIZXPphMnArTHA_7BaQzSMKr-Iwk9qvpEGpxhobcZTLowX/s1600/DSC_8787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvy-epmkxpp2TUcPKI81AlNjIE-HXiA-pkZSJIsAybYE-XHo-1zOJ3bcAVsG3tOFs62t56yPDLDvu87cb2kW9PlYhf1plHKoIZXPphMnArTHA_7BaQzSMKr-Iwk9qvpEGpxhobcZTLowX/s320/DSC_8787.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicata, perhaps?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpXE1UNMOJI6yrgHrNxotFUzwYUbJySwjFekFyC9eBIM2dOtl4aVXePHMuyyLb0lzGwR8hvR71hfLfEEtqulFgiIhR1bio_tXsJAhpn3IAp3eh5WBK-DFu4xJX-_zwciPfWdZvQdI9v4K/s1600/DSC_8788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpXE1UNMOJI6yrgHrNxotFUzwYUbJySwjFekFyC9eBIM2dOtl4aVXePHMuyyLb0lzGwR8hvR71hfLfEEtqulFgiIhR1bio_tXsJAhpn3IAp3eh5WBK-DFu4xJX-_zwciPfWdZvQdI9v4K/s320/DSC_8788.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hubbard squash</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbpfvG4GcLPF97mb15jUPgVgwrJEAgcCqRS5Iu-wERzC3O0Ly2jzTMauTA2RDiDQAPNrIbzT1L-GMQd9VSnWtodf5Urh4P5j1XGMfUgI2rxcUxCiJNIAGntBH3bEYLyXXZIg0XkVg0CX5/s1600/DSC_8789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbpfvG4GcLPF97mb15jUPgVgwrJEAgcCqRS5Iu-wERzC3O0Ly2jzTMauTA2RDiDQAPNrIbzT1L-GMQd9VSnWtodf5Urh4P5j1XGMfUgI2rxcUxCiJNIAGntBH3bEYLyXXZIg0XkVg0CX5/s320/DSC_8789.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet dumpling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p2eog6fcOdasIo_O_tSf0TLLDm_ajHCWx6pjxnOxA43omkLE9OGDSFbVskqRFibvlBNa8e98ST3eUkSQSD8fN1656XbgPv-jGm2uPG3scM46Y9WgC1vecmUiPoNrWoyScM2QnI4IVRVe/s1600/DSC_8790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p2eog6fcOdasIo_O_tSf0TLLDm_ajHCWx6pjxnOxA43omkLE9OGDSFbVskqRFibvlBNa8e98ST3eUkSQSD8fN1656XbgPv-jGm2uPG3scM46Y9WgC1vecmUiPoNrWoyScM2QnI4IVRVe/s320/DSC_8790.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby pumpkin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUWyW4iNy359cMS39_8QmEGnzwtMXcmo6_HUi_c7l45p41OHtpBp6PQaJWTN1eBxghA9ECRQIB9Xn7KcTmMnl5HAdUsMDrvCHPHlLbFhqTEFR4xajx6wGcBiEbhpmVXhAOuZpU36OiDeCV/s1600/DSC_8791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUWyW4iNy359cMS39_8QmEGnzwtMXcmo6_HUi_c7l45p41OHtpBp6PQaJWTN1eBxghA9ECRQIB9Xn7KcTmMnl5HAdUsMDrvCHPHlLbFhqTEFR4xajx6wGcBiEbhpmVXhAOuZpU36OiDeCV/s320/DSC_8791.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kabocha squash, I think.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeNcJfyX-OokE63xRhTJqLx9QVtcCjHw5JnxjaLBQ1LE5YiedIQxeIj6QjR6iYvJmYcReESw7NUM12gdUboFpzqbq9KokUolyJGkA5JS8gSKnTr5LiLZ0-2OCCpvWDvlBRtQxLt7unpC1/s1600/Taco_basket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeNcJfyX-OokE63xRhTJqLx9QVtcCjHw5JnxjaLBQ1LE5YiedIQxeIj6QjR6iYvJmYcReESw7NUM12gdUboFpzqbq9KokUolyJGkA5JS8gSKnTr5LiLZ0-2OCCpvWDvlBRtQxLt7unpC1/s320/Taco_basket.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taco in a basket, just because he's cute.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<center><br /></center></div>
Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-40900746185645116172011-03-20T16:29:00.000-07:002011-03-20T16:29:03.797-07:00Homesick 3Today Aaron made hotel reservations for his trip to San Diego. Let me re-emphasize: HIS trip to San Diego. This breaks my heart so much I can't even talk about it on Facebook. I've lived in Milwaukee for nearly 3 years now. I have not been "home" in that entire time and I am homesick. There. I said it.<br />
<br />
Before I rant, let me emphasize that I love, love, love it here in MKE. The population is diverse, the restaurants are good, there are tons of things to do year-round. The winters aren't really that bad as long as you know your limits, and you still get 3 other seasons that more than make up for the cold and inclement weather. Having said that, I've found myself saying, "In California, we ... " and "Back in San Diego we used to ... " a lot lately. Way to make people grow tired of your conversation. So I'm just going to get it all out here.<br />
<br />
1. I miss my family. I want to go to Oregon and see my sister and her family more than anything. My parents and in-laws are in South/Central California, my closest friends are in Seattle and San Diego, but my cousin/best friend is near San Francisco. It's almost not worth going unless I get to see everyone. <br />
<br />
2. Winter sucks with a toddler. I know this will improve in two months, especially once we move into a better place. I could really use some shorts and Birks weather.<br />
<br />
In general, I don't miss San Diego's monotonous weather. I like that we're exposing LG to all four seasons. But dressing him for San Diego would be soooo much easier. There, if I underestimated the temperature by ten degrees it wouldn't be a big deal -- oh dear, I have to keep a pair of pants or a sweater in the diaper bag in case it's 59 degrees instead of 69. But if it's 15 instead of 25? We like to walk instead of drive so we're pretty adventurous and, I like to think, well-suited to this climate. But it would be nice if I didn't have to worry about his baby-soft cheeks getting chapped from sub-zero winds.<br />
<br />
3. Food. I want In n Out, fish tacos, a California Burrito, Thai food, and my favorite sushi restaurant. There's also <a href="http://regentspizza.com/">a deep-dish pizza place </a>in San Diego that's way better than any of the famous places in Chicago.<br />
<br />
4. The beach. I want to show my son the Pacific Ocean. I want to jump waves with him, prowl the tide pools, and dig for sand crabs. OK, he's probably too young for most of that, but it'd be fun to introduce him to everything.<br />
<br />
5. The zoo. There's a reason the San Diego Zoo is world-famous. 'Nuff said.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-20748122757581674202010-05-17T19:33:00.000-07:002010-05-17T19:33:24.192-07:00Oh What a Difference A Day MakesI just noticed this picture the other day. It's one of the few we haven't posted on Facebook or otherwise shared, but it's so sweet. This is the day we brought LG home from the hospital at three days old:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi81jsauTLetYx1fGBka09u47bRdKL8AzLhPq9AjBut6-wh1dSxGhat-wdzL2ZD_SJkNvzx44Jv1KpXMyexLRbuwQrlf-2BVxAMu7T2S-4-1u6ARuI9xKDBE64PTiTMgqfpN6DHR2jRzy3/s320/Home.jpg" width="320" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And here he is at one year old, having masticated his first piece of cake:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdBrV5r_uynIvgo61LkDJrrDnDCwCFfXRU_iV6R1iQkrpQwAENOFsMr4-v3fmaquCF6r0eYGCHuKslBYtPLrkCl9nueo4anI5db8FvsmXK0a4wN1tXV1InxOjc1u31hZ0q2mhK-nxsM2s/s1600/cake_boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdBrV5r_uynIvgo61LkDJrrDnDCwCFfXRU_iV6R1iQkrpQwAENOFsMr4-v3fmaquCF6r0eYGCHuKslBYtPLrkCl9nueo4anI5db8FvsmXK0a4wN1tXV1InxOjc1u31hZ0q2mhK-nxsM2s/s1600/cake_boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdBrV5r_uynIvgo61LkDJrrDnDCwCFfXRU_iV6R1iQkrpQwAENOFsMr4-v3fmaquCF6r0eYGCHuKslBYtPLrkCl9nueo4anI5db8FvsmXK0a4wN1tXV1InxOjc1u31hZ0q2mhK-nxsM2s/s320/cake_boy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>God, I love that boy.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-44153146908863759442010-01-08T17:57:00.000-08:002010-01-09T09:04:14.431-08:00Adventures with Crafts<div style="text-align: center;"></div>I am not a crafty person. When it comes to working with my hands, I don't have much patience or attention to detail. My Dad taught me how to crochet when I was 12, but I've only finished two crocheted projects. Because I get bored easily I'll put it away and then, when I return to it, I have to relearn how to work with the needles. I recently finished knitting a scarf that I began 3 years ago and the width grew by 30% by the time I finished because I didn't bother counting the stitches. Oops!<br />
<br />
But I think that craftiness comes with being a stay-at-home mom, or maybe I've been inspired because many of my new friends are so creative. My friend Jillian showed me <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Creative-Play-Your-Baby-Expertise/dp/1856752712/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1263000777&sr=8-3">this book</a> on making toys for your baby. It's based on Waldorf School ideas about creative development. I don't know much about the Waldorf School, but I do know they believe simple toys with fewer details help children develop their imagination. So their patterns are perfect for me because they're not very complicated and if I mess up it just stimulates my son's imagination even more, right?<br />
<br />
With that in mind, here are my first attempts: chicks made from yarn fashioned into puff balls.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDpviMP6WAGM1jj95Hbo0ZtRJJ-SwmD932Ul5hlSwsGkZernRz73haUbTRiSNVDodbRZjrj3OMctN6CUIeieixFyvRcDv-JYXwvrT_C_1yQF8pfA7yxHEbKvHgXxWEqEu1d-tHfFhyyV_/s1600-h/DSC_4243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDpviMP6WAGM1jj95Hbo0ZtRJJ-SwmD932Ul5hlSwsGkZernRz73haUbTRiSNVDodbRZjrj3OMctN6CUIeieixFyvRcDv-JYXwvrT_C_1yQF8pfA7yxHEbKvHgXxWEqEu1d-tHfFhyyV_/s320/DSC_4243.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>The one on the left is my first attempt. I think it looks the most like a chick. Aaron says the middle one looks like a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tribble">Tribble</a> from Star Trek:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLJRwhmU2rCytdRxHWQQ6nfkZ2g048XeoqMUu8UtCD7dQJqSpR9NV1omeqNOwVFTZAk-RKmKd8Y2VhFtb8mRCNJNewy7XBkLwre_GZoIpmwbV394OqHRRJO-vrHtAvKDLX8y4ioyp1pim/s1600-h/DSC_4244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLJRwhmU2rCytdRxHWQQ6nfkZ2g048XeoqMUu8UtCD7dQJqSpR9NV1omeqNOwVFTZAk-RKmKd8Y2VhFtb8mRCNJNewy7XBkLwre_GZoIpmwbV394OqHRRJO-vrHtAvKDLX8y4ioyp1pim/s320/DSC_4244.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The trouble with these is that I haven't figured out how to make them baby-proof because little ones can actually pull out the bits of yarn. Oops. At least I know my son has a developed pincer grasp.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was most excited about making a knitted sheep. Except I can't remember how to knit, so I crocheted it.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_0z5M9cv5s7FZ3POBwq-42qPlF2D_zafqQHA3JtGCBKK3gC3EpATJwA1yG6uK7101zxWNb7W_I5a-yM_Gxplup8pyQwkep-1Ppgf8zMg66ExbYLjQMTp6iVyAtIM0GZ2LWn1J__0M9u8/s1600-h/DSC_4281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_0z5M9cv5s7FZ3POBwq-42qPlF2D_zafqQHA3JtGCBKK3gC3EpATJwA1yG6uK7101zxWNb7W_I5a-yM_Gxplup8pyQwkep-1Ppgf8zMg66ExbYLjQMTp6iVyAtIM0GZ2LWn1J__0M9u8/s320/DSC_4281.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Since I don't really know how to sew, I had trouble following the pattern for making the head shape. I think the neck isn't supposed to be that long. But it turned out pretty cute anyway, kind of like Eeyore. I just didn't expect it to be so big! But see how it doesn't have any markings for the eyes or mouth? That's the sort of plainness that the Waldorf School advocates. Less work for me!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilawYgmd3TKfrOxEuIJs9EhlcQTAbR80k1ZPrllFSJg7pBLTBJzXDOPjWBFK_vUTewY8M91QAiZdtavCMiolalLN1tY7QTPhguiXX9wFPNjjd0Fp4i2PanUPYurRuO4WyZRyfboVcZHESz/s1600-h/DSC_4292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilawYgmd3TKfrOxEuIJs9EhlcQTAbR80k1ZPrllFSJg7pBLTBJzXDOPjWBFK_vUTewY8M91QAiZdtavCMiolalLN1tY7QTPhguiXX9wFPNjjd0Fp4i2PanUPYurRuO4WyZRyfboVcZHESz/s320/DSC_4292.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are some felt chickens I made. These were a lot of fun -- my clumsy, wide stitches will only promote my son's creative development!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And finally, here's a felt horse. I made up the pattern myself, basing it on the same pattern of the felt chickens. Looks like my imagination is being developed as well!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jCKl2IajncaWv3lfAq0LpDDTMIutpPQVpG-1o04V2d-jghYSi8Y9fVjSzSEKjD1M1kgMUNUXrDyWV02rxPgO5AFSL_YYDayytLH5BETCyZnPWNT1QpDTRSwk3LsXlhzxEPlDL0fCIFpN/s1600-h/DSC_4315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jCKl2IajncaWv3lfAq0LpDDTMIutpPQVpG-1o04V2d-jghYSi8Y9fVjSzSEKjD1M1kgMUNUXrDyWV02rxPgO5AFSL_YYDayytLH5BETCyZnPWNT1QpDTRSwk3LsXlhzxEPlDL0fCIFpN/s320/DSC_4315.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I should add that LG isn't very interested in any of these toys yet. I tell myself that he's too young for imaginative play. After all, I don't think he really understands what horses or chickens are just yet. He enjoys his plastic blocks more than anything else right now. I'm sure that's developing his imagination just fine. In the mean time, I think I'm going to make him some felt food next. He doesn't know what eggs or carrots really look like, either, but it's fun for me.<br />
<br />
Here's the tutorial for the felt food if you're interested: <a href="http://lyneya.wordpress.com/2009/04/30/tutorial-felt-banana-in-peel-or-corn-in-husk/">http://lyneya.wordpress.com/2009/04/30/tutorial-felt-banana-in-peel-or-corn-in-husk/ </a><br />
</div>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-2405126485572763152009-10-25T20:10:00.000-07:002009-10-25T20:17:04.896-07:00OctoberOctober is my favorite month, and not just because my birthday comes at the end of it. I love the colors and the cooler weather. Today we went out to capture the beauty of the fall leaves before they all blow off the trees or get snowed over!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NE6NKF0hpdlzhNb3fU26U2H9_OxDAUYea54d_u6an_y-4wDQZOfvftD5rAk0zbaAb1C_rXfewXaaVmBo8rbK4KhYT58HafDO-p2kUmMGqmIYOH6coWVtYn9o9AqutVOqBPX5CKhOd-YP/s1600-h/DSC_2959.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NE6NKF0hpdlzhNb3fU26U2H9_OxDAUYea54d_u6an_y-4wDQZOfvftD5rAk0zbaAb1C_rXfewXaaVmBo8rbK4KhYT58HafDO-p2kUmMGqmIYOH6coWVtYn9o9AqutVOqBPX5CKhOd-YP/s320/DSC_2959.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396741057737040274" border="0" /></a>This one reminds me of one we took <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11pH80I1iEZI4Vxyi24QX9CPgYFLQsj7-S1zkLh9YLdw6LUnn3eFU4GbEgMSgrw2zoQHKeEQOAWCQQonhRt0lk7PsMFlZW5tUYoDjbV9Sgv1ULO701e6EnrdrYFR0_lfvw9LIJ60mUeaC/s1600-h/DSCN2146.jpg">last year</a>. Oh what a difference a year makes!<br /><br />Here's LG's first experience with a public swing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBneltKTO4nMEkOWhZklLEprMVxGpO2mwzj1AGZhuzZNyjqel0EW8A9DUf1DAop7zuN_MdALun0AlOp2j2QQD6CAP6fWlSGIZxQqMcM7hiM3dvOqH8SjyegOpPw1JCau6gw0jrGXorK0v/s1600-h/DSC_2840.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBneltKTO4nMEkOWhZklLEprMVxGpO2mwzj1AGZhuzZNyjqel0EW8A9DUf1DAop7zuN_MdALun0AlOp2j2QQD6CAP6fWlSGIZxQqMcM7hiM3dvOqH8SjyegOpPw1JCau6gw0jrGXorK0v/s320/DSC_2840.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396741845216509682" border="0" /></a>Only after I downloaded these photos did I realize that those pants are navy blue, not black. Oh well.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPl5obxyYsWbUDeXThNqVnkOKLYQ9wivNougj9PjGzKSrDV6TzpwiNBLXXGPP6t9hVeQdpNNfUwlyUamDGD-I3Wowv68WwfCBggE-F3rrTQK68gfznwVN8-a8s0ZVm-s9LKiZnGKTjXW7W/s1600-h/DSC_2862.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPl5obxyYsWbUDeXThNqVnkOKLYQ9wivNougj9PjGzKSrDV6TzpwiNBLXXGPP6t9hVeQdpNNfUwlyUamDGD-I3Wowv68WwfCBggE-F3rrTQK68gfznwVN8-a8s0ZVm-s9LKiZnGKTjXW7W/s320/DSC_2862.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396741840698608962" border="0" /></a>I love the look on his face here. He loves his mama!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-85722710395103539152009-09-25T21:51:00.001-07:002009-09-25T22:04:52.128-07:00Parenting in PublicAs someone who was never particularly baby-crazy, it has come as a big surprise to me how much people loooooove babies. They want to coo over them and touch them (which freaks out ol' germaphobe me). Now, I don't deny that my little guy (LG) is absolutely wonderful and adorable, but really.<br /><br />This week I got some interesting remarks.<br /><br />1. From the middle-aged cashier in Walgreen's. After she cooed over how adorable he looked, sleeping in his wrap all snuggled against my chest, she said, "You're spoiling him!"<br /><br />2. From the elderly mason at the Scottish Rite Masonic Center. "He doesn't sleep in your bed, does he? That's a no-no!" I'd like to see him try and transfer LG to his bassinet. It's always easy to give advice when you don't have a squalling infant voting on your behavior.<br /><br />3. A random mom at the pancake house. "Does he sleep through the night?" When I admitted that he had, he just doesn't do it often, she practically burst into tears. "I need to hug you! You know my pain!" And we commiserated on hearing other parents of little babies talk about how their angels sleep for 12-hour stretches and agreed that they're all lying.<br /><br />Well, look at this sweet guy. Who wouldn't want to spoil him?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemsurj1Gi9oy-PJ86HxBZXHeeGBKjfLsQrtKQr0rOkG0wlroC1bp5Cbe_LpTh4PFQcu2GGfQwB-iea4uG0TjhYrfWmFPx4ijHJg2nUD0QTkcbkYpHJeLhBfoFyVOMexK8XqFDpcqT44tl/s1600-h/LG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemsurj1Gi9oy-PJ86HxBZXHeeGBKjfLsQrtKQr0rOkG0wlroC1bp5Cbe_LpTh4PFQcu2GGfQwB-iea4uG0TjhYrfWmFPx4ijHJg2nUD0QTkcbkYpHJeLhBfoFyVOMexK8XqFDpcqT44tl/s320/LG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385636917178498274" border="0" /></a>So as much as I would be suited to having a baby who really prefers some alone time, thank you very much, I am going to be taking the long view of infancy. He's only this small for a short amount of time, and if wearing him and snuggling with him in bed (safely!) are spoiling him, then we'll just have to deal with one very spoiled toddler. God help us.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-4672493291689016692009-09-04T16:04:00.000-07:002009-09-04T16:16:24.591-07:00Hiatus over, but I have some things to think aboutComing back to this blog after a respectable 4-month maternity leave, I can't help but laugh at my last post. All I can think is, "Wow, the pregnant woman in that picture had no idea what was coming!"<br /><br />But before I get back to posting pictures and such, I have a couple of issues to present:<br /><br />1. My child's privacy. My sister mentioned this to me once. She posts pictures of her kids on her blog, but not their names. She had read something about allowing your children a certain amount of privacy despite your own internet presence. Do I post my baby's pictures here with his name? I have other friends who do that and presumably they don't have any problems. Do I just stick to posting him on Facebook (which Aaron is better about doing -- feel free to friend him if you think you're missing the pics!)?<br /><br />2. I really, really wish I could sew or knit. Larger swaddling blankets could be done in a jiffy. I could knit that Santa hat that I've always loved so he could wear it in our Christmas cards. Or that pumpkin hat that I love. My sister and I have been saying how important it is to have a tangible skill in this economy, something you can do with your hands because you're all the more employable.<br /><br />3. I had all sorts of child-rearing theories before my baby was born. I was definitely one of those opinionated childless people who just KNOWS how to raise a child (and I probably owe apologies to all of my friends with children for suffering through any advice I gave, although I hope I didn't do it too often). What happened? Not just the reality of actually raising a child -- the sleep deprivation made me forget all of my ideas I'd gotten from my Psych classes, observing friends, etc. The only thing I remember came friend a friend I made in college. She was a 60-something woman who'd come back to finish her degree after dropping out 40+ years before to get married. She said that her friends spent too much time thinking about all the ways they wanted to be different from their parents, and all that negative focus turned them into their parents. She believed you should remember one way in which you want to emulate your parents and one way in which you don't. That I can handle.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-47419107943285630492009-05-05T14:02:00.000-07:002009-05-05T14:19:00.720-07:00Due Date!Baby Schiller is due today, Cinco de Mayo! Hopefully it won't be too long now. I'm doing really well, just feeling impatient to finally meet my baby.<br />Here's the latest picture of me, technically at 39.5 weeks:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4HRCjRXRl1TdZcXciVpQRxMa8k7myiFjLlT8_kvr0pdcsEPDrMsy5zrd7E9CdC-KaXFz5OwvqkBJL-iaruVZ3XsCBQ3KQxgMBPTi7-WBVO9Mt0Ex6ccDE4pQelciilVIvIK4WnS7SuTT/s1600-h/39weeks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4HRCjRXRl1TdZcXciVpQRxMa8k7myiFjLlT8_kvr0pdcsEPDrMsy5zrd7E9CdC-KaXFz5OwvqkBJL-iaruVZ3XsCBQ3KQxgMBPTi7-WBVO9Mt0Ex6ccDE4pQelciilVIvIK4WnS7SuTT/s320/39weeks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332448636123936578" border="0" /></a>I spent a lot of time walking last week to make sure I stay active and to encourage the baby to descend. This caused some concern with some semi-strangers I saw. Now, let me say that as much as I miss my friends in California and the West coast in general, one benefit of not seeing co-workers and friends regularly is I don't hear comments like, "You're HUGE!" and "Wow, haven't you had that baby yet?" (of course, none of my dear friends who read this blog would say those things anyway, right?). ;) However, on Friday, I went out walking and ran into an elderly woman who lives in our building. She took one look at me, laughed, and said, "Oh, bless your heart!" Then we went to the hardware store and an elderly man who works there said, "Get this woman a wheelchair!" I actually thought it was pretty funny. Milwaukee's elderly are concerned!<br /><br />Now, I've managed to avoid putting cute kitty pictures on this blog of a couple of posts, so I think I'm overdue. How's this for an adorable pic of two of my boys?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhac7ZbfPYwFmLWZ4oO29o8pqGijiXm9pHqWsJuUdSYaMk2TY2f6sAqMYv87hXb056GCvNMSLqDISVTNklh568DYkeGfkDN_gMqBQ_vaj9Folxgrbw-Y0P2sKYO1gH-lJdhjPXplkGN2v7T/s1600-h/AnPickle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhac7ZbfPYwFmLWZ4oO29o8pqGijiXm9pHqWsJuUdSYaMk2TY2f6sAqMYv87hXb056GCvNMSLqDISVTNklh568DYkeGfkDN_gMqBQ_vaj9Folxgrbw-Y0P2sKYO1gH-lJdhjPXplkGN2v7T/s320/AnPickle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332448643540972754" border="0" /></a><br />And I'm happy to say that my parents have made it to Wisconsin, safe and sound. They brought a ton of baby stuff with them. Here is my father, trying to tell Taco that the stroller is not his new bed.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwn_hYo9FF9468dywYCbbRn2vO3wHvvfIXU_HNrGpXe1_r0ac0roR2C_W5FZynbsL7tX6C4XDJXwHRZxsTTiL-jpopNKnxC_xPyqmvwAlxLjuh4Bz1T5BXZ9gcZqqyFgbSRjno51IAtAQ/s1600-h/Not4UTaco.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwn_hYo9FF9468dywYCbbRn2vO3wHvvfIXU_HNrGpXe1_r0ac0roR2C_W5FZynbsL7tX6C4XDJXwHRZxsTTiL-jpopNKnxC_xPyqmvwAlxLjuh4Bz1T5BXZ9gcZqqyFgbSRjno51IAtAQ/s320/Not4UTaco.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332448646056422690" border="0" /></a>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-20473941289568292172009-04-18T17:26:00.000-07:002009-04-18T17:40:54.345-07:0037 WeeksWow! Where has the time gone? April is nearly over. We're almost completely ready, and everything should come together very soon. I've had some minor swelling in my hands and legs, which means I can't wear my wedding ring any more, but at least my shoes still fit! I can still go on my walks, but I try to keep it to less than a half hour and my stamina is quite obviously less than it used to be. I also still sleep through most of the night, but I wake up around 5 a.m., starving! The cats are getting used to a little snack in the wee sma's. Anyway, here I am!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDaBucWu-YQ0yAQ_q8y3hvMMZJRLNLPzMLfX_szIBkPEt5_YUi1bb7hOqj4kwMRmlEOP-5iqrKzlxyEdokFILck8ICTNlbAVvsNBFju3SncTzRebTTeuXNCx74ZxswSCwpaoU8SdErdaP/s1600-h/37weeks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDaBucWu-YQ0yAQ_q8y3hvMMZJRLNLPzMLfX_szIBkPEt5_YUi1bb7hOqj4kwMRmlEOP-5iqrKzlxyEdokFILck8ICTNlbAVvsNBFju3SncTzRebTTeuXNCx74ZxswSCwpaoU8SdErdaP/s320/37weeks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326193059167573090" border="0" /></a>I swear my hair looked cuter before I went out on the balcony. It was a gorgeous, but windy day. I heard a weatherman say that winter is over in Wisconsin, but spring isn't quite here. Although I've noticed that Wisconsinites stubbornly abide by the calendar when it comes to the seasons. In California, we used to say that spring arrived when the trees started blooming (or the first Santa Anas hit, whichever happened first). Here in Wisconsin, once the spring equinox has passed, it's spring, even if it's still snowing outside!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-54587566570809918592009-03-06T09:44:00.000-08:002009-03-06T09:55:23.182-08:00I Don't Feel This BigI've gottten several requests for belly shots, so here I am at 31 weeks. Not much to see frontwise:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBasqtimHfzt8SjEIdbFBJd5nq5ZOMfbHD-P0ziGtmALA3CZ2g3Tk-laGm6gY4ahKUZwa3cBWdqM2pFO7p0hEas5b1jVsDdq9MtScXcnSc2hyphenhypheneLiLyZeJThwojSXwm_esA5u2f4hMZzfkw/s1600-h/DSCN2501.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBasqtimHfzt8SjEIdbFBJd5nq5ZOMfbHD-P0ziGtmALA3CZ2g3Tk-laGm6gY4ahKUZwa3cBWdqM2pFO7p0hEas5b1jVsDdq9MtScXcnSc2hyphenhypheneLiLyZeJThwojSXwm_esA5u2f4hMZzfkw/s320/DSCN2501.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310132476167742946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3swRvMb0G2BwPZxKh1KBD3nBdLYeYh3zW2EYuOiPUqhtKU_L4u-vBdpqE9A0ZIRZIvFW6Mfd1dkk-vyfiCDvOVwX7jQzRWHCjvqSpQXZ5aI7naWJ6WwAZiwScurYfZ3MGPL9RkQLltzB/s1600-h/DSCN2503.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3swRvMb0G2BwPZxKh1KBD3nBdLYeYh3zW2EYuOiPUqhtKU_L4u-vBdpqE9A0ZIRZIvFW6Mfd1dkk-vyfiCDvOVwX7jQzRWHCjvqSpQXZ5aI7naWJ6WwAZiwScurYfZ3MGPL9RkQLltzB/s320/DSCN2503.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310132573812365378" border="0" /></a><br />Whoa! Where did that belly come from? I get a surprise every time I look in the mirror, but that's nothing compared to seeing the photo documentation. I still feel like me, even though I can't sleep on my back or belly. A couple of weeks ago I caught a few acquaintances giving my belly suspicious looks. Just in the past week or two the cats have started stepping on my belly as they climb over me. I can't see my feet very well any more, and I've stopped trying to zip up my winter coat (until last week I was able to zip it before lunch, but not after lunch). The t-shirt I'm wearing in these pictures is not a maternity shirt, which also makes me want to reconsider some of my wardrobe once the baby's born and I've lost the baby weight. I mean, if I can wear something while essentially 8 months pregnant, do I really want to wear it normally?<br /><br />In all seriousness, we're very excited. Baby will be coming sooner rather than later!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-57818857575864986202009-02-13T15:19:00.001-08:002009-02-13T15:25:17.952-08:00AcclimatedI wish I could remember what temperature it was last winter in San Diego when I pulled out my wool pea coat, scarf, and mittens. I suspect it was in the 40s or 50s, I know it was January because I was still working at my old university job. Our receptionist always laughed when I arrived in the morning because she had just returned from a winter trip to Germany.<br /><br />I figured it would take me a full year to adjust to Milwaukee winters, but it ends up that I just needed a couple of arctic blasts. We had a major thaw this week with the warmest day getting up to 59 degrees. In San Diego I would have been pretty bundled up at that temperature -- at least a sweatshirt, probably a scarf and, in the evenings, maybe even fleece-lined jeans. Definitely socks.<br /><br />What did I wear here? A t-shirt, thin cotton capris, and sandals. And it still seemed too hot!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-20021666582095380512009-01-01T18:17:00.000-08:002009-01-20T18:28:50.319-08:00Polar Bears are CrazyMilwaukee has a long history of the Polar Bear Plunge. Apparently, 1916 was the first recorded year of people celebrating New Year's Day by swimming in Lake Michigan. We decided we had to see this for ourselves, so on New Year's Day we headed down to the beach (have you ever seen a frozen beach? I have!) to check it out:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTH-cV9U6ZEanJN_HOznxsHtFzz9IS6ZxaDrnHo4cq-RMF4UygdZjKLiqxQYJMk_ePgb58eNzEXvbNwTM3aSylqzm0wLV3u55CrV8iiHHykZhrECePsPS2SY1FCdEHXCsHPBYxLidRbI5g/s1600-h/DSCN2415.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTH-cV9U6ZEanJN_HOznxsHtFzz9IS6ZxaDrnHo4cq-RMF4UygdZjKLiqxQYJMk_ePgb58eNzEXvbNwTM3aSylqzm0wLV3u55CrV8iiHHykZhrECePsPS2SY1FCdEHXCsHPBYxLidRbI5g/s320/DSCN2415.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293566143656028514" border="0" /></a><br />See those big rocks out there? Those are chunks of ice. Can you see the dude in the red and black? He's the lifeguard. The funny thing was that the lake temperature was still about 10 degrees higher than the air temperature, but when you're talking about the difference between 27 degrees and 37 degrees, that's still cold. And you have to walk on the snow/ice just to get to the actual water!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-gyFHJX2xt1wl_udgyAfd-UrCvRF2KK7md7jXBwzxDQdsaH2H55lP-q07UtcnSjxX5sbbowp-ZyUj55Ofg8PiVAGw2OgmXUcoTJAegV-ANEBWVbi5PWjgtaihj7ZyauRWkdhZZer4sYX/s1600-h/DSCN2417.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-gyFHJX2xt1wl_udgyAfd-UrCvRF2KK7md7jXBwzxDQdsaH2H55lP-q07UtcnSjxX5sbbowp-ZyUj55Ofg8PiVAGw2OgmXUcoTJAegV-ANEBWVbi5PWjgtaihj7ZyauRWkdhZZer4sYX/s320/DSCN2417.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293566175246566210" border="0" /></a>Aaron models appropriate cold-weather gear. You can get a sense of the crowd behind him. Some people had erected tents and lit bonfires, but I wonder how long it really takes to warm up after something like that!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-31795120305533499722008-12-30T10:35:00.000-08:002009-01-02T09:18:49.816-08:00Why They're Called PeanutWe had our second-trimester ultrasound yesterday! We're having a boy! Here's the ultrasound picture, just to share:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44QahaKScsBCswUKk7jtHpUt9YtAZVEufgwlM7MN10MFRMU89uu-Fms15eJ_ZbdpOml4Aa8uh9Tf_fK8JdjgxgK1XLwqCf7NwKXNcAsaYzmI1vuhKjLuBeI80m9sdJxI_Dl6OfoZFnOd-/s1600-h/DSCN2350.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44QahaKScsBCswUKk7jtHpUt9YtAZVEufgwlM7MN10MFRMU89uu-Fms15eJ_ZbdpOml4Aa8uh9Tf_fK8JdjgxgK1XLwqCf7NwKXNcAsaYzmI1vuhKjLuBeI80m9sdJxI_Dl6OfoZFnOd-/s320/DSCN2350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285654210957516562" border="0" /></a>This is the baby's profile. That first bump is the nose, I assume it's followed by lips. It was a lot easier to tell yesterday when he was moving around.<br /><br />And here's our first-trimester ultrasound.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYfZ7KGUxVXl28Pk7lsOnU8lm2dw7fzLnq9TgE-vWd0cQftuzWQPmYHe2imc7yXB24luPI-6ZDTV64SXuhsV3yo-WAKi1qe9NurdQ1wn_B6DNALVyhXv0IgOKBLyBy5nmztVAR5LEY2D9/s1600-h/DSCN2354.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYfZ7KGUxVXl28Pk7lsOnU8lm2dw7fzLnq9TgE-vWd0cQftuzWQPmYHe2imc7yXB24luPI-6ZDTV64SXuhsV3yo-WAKi1qe9NurdQ1wn_B6DNALVyhXv0IgOKBLyBy5nmztVAR5LEY2D9/s320/DSCN2354.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285654216138405122" border="0" /></a>As I recall, he was actually on his side, but turned his face for this one. It was funny because he was in perfect position for the picture the whole time, but when it came time to take pictures, he rolled over. "Done!" So getting his little profile took a bit of prodding.<br /><br />Imagine, only another 15-20 weeks until we get to see him on the outside!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-13323410085617043182008-12-25T10:20:00.000-08:002008-12-30T10:50:26.869-08:00White ChristmasBeing in Wisconsin, you'd think that a white Christmas is a no-brainer, right? Well, on Christmas day Aaron sprung on me the following idea: that a truly white Christmas means that it actually snows on Christmas day. Now, I'm not sure whether I agree with this. After all, the only other time I've experienced anything remotely close to a white Christmas was in 1984: I was 10, living in Ridgecrest, CA, and it snowed on December 22nd or so. Snow in Ridgecrest is extremely rare, occurring every 4 years or so, and even then it usually shows up in February. Then it melts by 10 a.m.<br /><br />That year we'd built a snowman in the front yard and not <span style="font-style: italic;">all</span> of it had melted by Christmas. So for years I counted that as my (tongue-in-cheek, of course) white Christmas. I'll let you decide, based on the pictures below. After all, it snowed on Christmas Eve!<br /><br />Here we are, touring one of the lighted parks near our home:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeYZrt0Rl039S5STf5XQDQ8gP4eXniYhQamjOpohoABVbhYvH3kdp0QBmNGuA5Rpi3pAwYrr98lyqHwWVosMublFamGHY7gClMjOf2VJmng-tmQQ8ND4-aWi2-Qs-eWMk6n7HrxVqfoDK/s1600-h/DSCN2334.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeYZrt0Rl039S5STf5XQDQ8gP4eXniYhQamjOpohoABVbhYvH3kdp0QBmNGuA5Rpi3pAwYrr98lyqHwWVosMublFamGHY7gClMjOf2VJmng-tmQQ8ND4-aWi2-Qs-eWMk6n7HrxVqfoDK/s320/DSCN2334.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285652469301013138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kxC-4xUcBABed6t6GCHcZ2S_aIs9hahn9x-hLvXUMQs6nQcfXkKL4vbr4lMQr3RxSfjkzwR6GuDGiBZnDrIbNPBtY1uzFn74hiwMXUxjLfCWNxwQf4r2mZ9sScETVtDH9rUYp_GolFuj/s1600-h/DSCN2336.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kxC-4xUcBABed6t6GCHcZ2S_aIs9hahn9x-hLvXUMQs6nQcfXkKL4vbr4lMQr3RxSfjkzwR6GuDGiBZnDrIbNPBtY1uzFn74hiwMXUxjLfCWNxwQf4r2mZ9sScETVtDH9rUYp_GolFuj/s320/DSCN2336.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285652476192059810" border="0" /></a>You can see our building in the background of this picture. Every time we come home we look to see if the kitties are hanging out in the windows. :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kxC-4xUcBABed6t6GCHcZ2S_aIs9hahn9x-hLvXUMQs6nQcfXkKL4vbr4lMQr3RxSfjkzwR6GuDGiBZnDrIbNPBtY1uzFn74hiwMXUxjLfCWNxwQf4r2mZ9sScETVtDH9rUYp_GolFuj/s1600-h/DSCN2336.jpg"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh6G1ewkG5hI5w1mKCpcqRnuk2AsLXuWUhmMET99TGj3FvtKe0_qrzREV6nubcOJZV_VC6n2QRuFff6iTLhHrOZUBJwUmHMaA-6mzM4ciuLWLWvXIGO8pcWyWajhmTOtYpqeOz5xIkrhp/s1600-h/DSCN2338.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh6G1ewkG5hI5w1mKCpcqRnuk2AsLXuWUhmMET99TGj3FvtKe0_qrzREV6nubcOJZV_VC6n2QRuFff6iTLhHrOZUBJwUmHMaA-6mzM4ciuLWLWvXIGO8pcWyWajhmTOtYpqeOz5xIkrhp/s320/DSCN2338.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285652488454448770" border="0" /></a><br />And here's a sweet scene we saw on Christmas Eve. You can't really tell here, but if you click on the pic you can see that the guy had written "Will You Marry Me?" in the snow in red letters. I hope she said yes, but it was really funny because they were walking a dog, and he kept leading her back to the snow to admire his handiwork. It was all gone in a few hours -- the snow filled it in!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVho95mkUD7EoTWySH3rgexrbXtTu47mOCBQhCjCh4wWN2mjyUhEoZsHMxMRrUU8iKEMCnwmQ9a5WmiF4CD5of_isvESgCccnUOKn7Mz3VU5A-llOvx_iFLCzrU-2UTLq2GIEFt6zEBID/s1600-h/DSCN2331.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVho95mkUD7EoTWySH3rgexrbXtTu47mOCBQhCjCh4wWN2mjyUhEoZsHMxMRrUU8iKEMCnwmQ9a5WmiF4CD5of_isvESgCccnUOKn7Mz3VU5A-llOvx_iFLCzrU-2UTLq2GIEFt6zEBID/s320/DSCN2331.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285652493511375202" border="0" /></a>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-38348579005031889602008-12-09T19:34:00.000-08:002008-12-09T19:46:02.897-08:00Cute KittiesI have way too many cute pictures of my cats to post here -- I don't want this to become a cute cat blog! But I had to share these photos:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1BFmg_TUWmsD0anx5gwJ_dWT_X4BFPCFcfW8xhSwB90Ocxh4c1nW9aUSgbXsX9foKBMcH9f8sSfXmaC94QkxmT0YrC6BF85zEpF3rgnvZE3XqTagbyr1QpdSq1rUIOxniObD-k3vPDnk/s1600-h/DSCN2262.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1BFmg_TUWmsD0anx5gwJ_dWT_X4BFPCFcfW8xhSwB90Ocxh4c1nW9aUSgbXsX9foKBMcH9f8sSfXmaC94QkxmT0YrC6BF85zEpF3rgnvZE3XqTagbyr1QpdSq1rUIOxniObD-k3vPDnk/s320/DSCN2262.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278000172171058434" border="0" /></a>This is Taco, fascinated by the snow falling. Sometimes he tries to catch the flakes. Oh, that darn window always gets in the way!<br /><br />Taco has always been a "window cat;" in San Diego he loved to sit by the window and watch the birds, or hang out on the balcony and watch (or attack) the birds. Our new apartment doesn't have a balcony and we were really worried he'd be too bored. But we haven't had much of a problem, and the snow helps! I wonder if he'll still be interested in spring?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodv_DQ7LPrPCQNB-U7NIJP1DEO-GXKscS1eO1UoErL7-JujhslsTLabMN_XnN00s5tD4xdkfWLBXMkNRpxpCsvZ6BvrJLsDJig8obHcx7y3Fo6MB5YfS3JQ3LG7ZUfuMshH6E58bkNWcv/s1600-h/DSCN2261.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodv_DQ7LPrPCQNB-U7NIJP1DEO-GXKscS1eO1UoErL7-JujhslsTLabMN_XnN00s5tD4xdkfWLBXMkNRpxpCsvZ6BvrJLsDJig8obHcx7y3Fo6MB5YfS3JQ3LG7ZUfuMshH6E58bkNWcv/s320/DSCN2261.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278000021829831218" border="0" /></a>No real story to accompany this one, I just love that our kitties are hanging out in their matching beds. Plus the look on Taco's face is priceless.Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-9939317099390906972008-12-06T07:43:00.000-08:002008-12-06T07:50:20.853-08:00VentI hate it when you can only communicate with someone via email. Here's what happens:<br /><br />Me: Hey, I'm really interested in doing this thing. You're in charge of assigning people, so let me know what I can do.<br /><br />Her: Great! I think there's something coming up real soon. I'll check with the others people, but we may be good to go.<br /><br />*silence for 1 week*<br /><br />Me: Just wanted to check in, is that assignment available?<br /><br />Her: I thought you were assigned.<br /><br />Me: Um, no. At least, no one told me.<br /><br />*silence*<br /><br />Me: Hey there! Am I assigned?<br /><br />Her: Hey, I'm attaching this document that will help you with your assignment.<br /><br />Me: Thanks, that will be helpful. <span style="font-style: italic;">Once I actually have an assignment.</span> Can you let me know when I'll be assigned?<br /><br />*silence*<br /><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">sigh</span>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-25983241597211156162008-11-05T16:11:00.000-08:002008-11-28T16:16:03.211-08:00Autumn LeavesAutumn is my favorite season. It's a fairly short season in Wisconsin, but certainly beautiful. I managed to convince Aaron to put down his work for a few hours and check out the colors with me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYAHH3e4mqTnxs-owf-60y_ENZ30nnkfVTJRF_V2W96EGzwgjV3PkgMYbLH8rm5tKq7PV2Yd5aSVpuF4GLA98l7znuq2QlglyaWNsyUZA8kQBkLDynf3G3GK3XnnDBJtmWIreOot9MI1z/s1600-h/DSCN2140.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYAHH3e4mqTnxs-owf-60y_ENZ30nnkfVTJRF_V2W96EGzwgjV3PkgMYbLH8rm5tKq7PV2Yd5aSVpuF4GLA98l7znuq2QlglyaWNsyUZA8kQBkLDynf3G3GK3XnnDBJtmWIreOot9MI1z/s320/DSCN2140.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273866073438903938" border="0" /></a>I think the orange leaves are my favorite.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11pH80I1iEZI4Vxyi24QX9CPgYFLQsj7-S1zkLh9YLdw6LUnn3eFU4GbEgMSgrw2zoQHKeEQOAWCQQonhRt0lk7PsMFlZW5tUYoDjbV9Sgv1ULO701e6EnrdrYFR0_lfvw9LIJ60mUeaC/s1600-h/DSCN2146.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11pH80I1iEZI4Vxyi24QX9CPgYFLQsj7-S1zkLh9YLdw6LUnn3eFU4GbEgMSgrw2zoQHKeEQOAWCQQonhRt0lk7PsMFlZW5tUYoDjbV9Sgv1ULO701e6EnrdrYFR0_lfvw9LIJ60mUeaC/s320/DSCN2146.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273866310611252530" border="0" /></a>Aaron really got into the season after we hiked a bit -- here he is making leaf angels! It won't be long before he gets a chance to do this in snow!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-514000097803822692008-11-01T07:34:00.000-07:002008-11-24T07:36:50.142-08:00Halloween Downtown<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv0u2W6TE86GV5o8H2oDPIa9eZXUCF4rJxB5ppQJToCYNBZKOXYX9T1baxUHKLboAQG97XdjIurxlRMAV7MdsWKh5pEsd4BfU55G9VEwyHIDDbNteIwhi-cUip3ILE_uFutbiBwct-oW8/s1600-h/Jack.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv0u2W6TE86GV5o8H2oDPIa9eZXUCF4rJxB5ppQJToCYNBZKOXYX9T1baxUHKLboAQG97XdjIurxlRMAV7MdsWKh5pEsd4BfU55G9VEwyHIDDbNteIwhi-cUip3ILE_uFutbiBwct-oW8/s200/Jack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272248344905719458" border="0" /></a>Just a little bit of Halloween spirit from our apartment. :)Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-47012290401158621262008-10-15T08:24:00.000-07:002008-10-22T16:24:45.148-07:00Flashback: 5th AnniversaryWe celebrated our anniversary in August this year even though the big date was June 28th. Why? Well, in preparation for moving, we basically had no time to celebrate such a big event. Of our final 8 weekends in San Diego, we were out of town visiting family for 6 or 7 of them. On our actual anniversary, Aaron was with his parents and brother, visiting his one surviving grandmother -- in fact, his sole surviving grandparent -- up in Washington state.<br /><br />Of course, it was all worth it. And we got to go someplace new for our anniversary this year. I booked us a nice at a B&B in Door County, Wisconsin.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrW_q8xZLmJft0g_RmlDmnoyNvexn3muV_5EPssRzEWvSYlGqyu0I1Pz0C9OUXn-Y-84vToBCx5Ra1TK0BUgfgsvXFJ1HwkxoTt_2xP57exrfk6-L0k3r6aX8ETjJ8R8Ambw_O8WS-NMmW/s1600-h/DSCN1947.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrW_q8xZLmJft0g_RmlDmnoyNvexn3muV_5EPssRzEWvSYlGqyu0I1Pz0C9OUXn-Y-84vToBCx5Ra1TK0BUgfgsvXFJ1HwkxoTt_2xP57exrfk6-L0k3r6aX8ETjJ8R8Ambw_O8WS-NMmW/s320/DSCN1947.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257402981696972114" border="0" /></a><br />You say you've never heard of Door County? We hadn't either, but it's known as the Cap Cod of the Midwest. If you look at the state of Wisconsin, notice that it's shaped like a catcher's mit. Door County is the thumb. And it's beautiful. I can see why it's so popular for summer homes (and such expensive ones!).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA2ykjcpIDu9hHUy-0LFRJrTk-zYWAAc59_089pk8Q5tM5TerUrjnCcXGgtM104fGSVXcZT8qhRClvBsJQ5GwtXlyM83pV-frTs2xfYTXbPk9DZEeytVMqp5OWAbTOhz7sqTWGlHu8xuY/s1600-h/DSCN1986.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA2ykjcpIDu9hHUy-0LFRJrTk-zYWAAc59_089pk8Q5tM5TerUrjnCcXGgtM104fGSVXcZT8qhRClvBsJQ5GwtXlyM83pV-frTs2xfYTXbPk9DZEeytVMqp5OWAbTOhz7sqTWGlHu8xuY/s320/DSCN1986.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257403324972614402" border="0" /></a><br />The most important feature of the B&B was our isolated room with a whirlpool tub. The second most important feature was that they allowed pets in our room. We wanted to bring the cats because we'd only had Pickle for about 3 weeks at that point. And we have more fun when we're not worrying about them. We'd rather take pictures of them like this:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dGjAHkK2twQzSQhMYtO26-jTomsVHk0zdb-C8f-RF3_LxYlkOPPW-ADQfp5Qf0244zV5s0cPqes8yPS5pHxd42r7gqMVhbvsjjRIdsmuhjWYZL37Qunvj0VmZNzM1SLdNugloiH5dzGp/s1600-h/DSCN1965.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dGjAHkK2twQzSQhMYtO26-jTomsVHk0zdb-C8f-RF3_LxYlkOPPW-ADQfp5Qf0244zV5s0cPqes8yPS5pHxd42r7gqMVhbvsjjRIdsmuhjWYZL37Qunvj0VmZNzM1SLdNugloiH5dzGp/s320/DSCN1965.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257403230142502978" border="0" /></a><br />Here is a very contented Taco lounging over the fireplace.<br />Now, I haven't been to Cape Cod since I was ... 11? And I don't remember if they have all of the fun and bizarre sights that Door County does. Working dairies? A farm museum? Awesome pies and soft serve ice cream? Goats on the sod roof of a restaurant?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghV3eA-qwJI5lPIrf5YAV9Rr0OqooX-_pWQbmNVLsKfOsgimNfxGOdEdFJMtfzAK1Eqw_fJ5weuNSAxt01GdMXXgLWkyqoKvnHNxdwG0GogF76zwpFLKr1knm8pJcwXuMI4mucouZ9OPk5/s1600-h/goats.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghV3eA-qwJI5lPIrf5YAV9Rr0OqooX-_pWQbmNVLsKfOsgimNfxGOdEdFJMtfzAK1Eqw_fJ5weuNSAxt01GdMXXgLWkyqoKvnHNxdwG0GogF76zwpFLKr1knm8pJcwXuMI4mucouZ9OPk5/s320/goats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257403400680272978" border="0" /></a><br />You read that right. <a href="http://www.aljohnsons.com/">Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant</a> in Sister Bay pastures goats on their sod roof from May to October. Apparently it started as a joke on Al's wedding day about 35 years ago, but it caused such a commotion and a rise in customers that Al kept them up! As you can see from this picture, the line for the restaurant is around the building.<br />In all, it was a wonderful anniversary. Thank you, Aaron, for making it so, and for making the past 5 years the happiest of my life! Let's go for 75 more!Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-16947133854311788722008-10-14T06:46:00.000-07:002008-10-14T06:55:25.733-07:00Kitten Teeth!Our kitten, Pickle, is about 4 months old and our vet told us that he's teething. At his last visit she noticed that he'd already lost two teeth. My friend Nikki found one of her kitten's teeth and she said that kittens usually just swallow their teeth so you usually never see one. So I was not prepared when I found this on my desk chair last night:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51pMq0R-XAW_-3GuoUDB7jsbqLj2NXtGwwHPnoYas3kA2Mw6boEQMT3Q-pH7kC2qHniBvBzJejueLdFMlAH6PNCRtrG1wDnbpTBpmDhfxWimSnQCw8pLYgmWLXwISfIqvbIqpEuAsNo-M/s1600-h/DSCN2136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51pMq0R-XAW_-3GuoUDB7jsbqLj2NXtGwwHPnoYas3kA2Mw6boEQMT3Q-pH7kC2qHniBvBzJejueLdFMlAH6PNCRtrG1wDnbpTBpmDhfxWimSnQCw8pLYgmWLXwISfIqvbIqpEuAsNo-M/s320/DSCN2136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257006892903604626" border="0" /></a><br />It was so big I thought he'd lost one of his claws! I put it on ol' Abe there for reference.<br /><br />Don't worry, Pickle is fine. He doesn't seem to want a frozen toy or washcloth to chew on, and is still tearing around the house, chasing his favorite toys (which includes our other cat, Taco).Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-87527981353600886012008-09-21T15:48:00.000-07:002008-09-21T16:12:16.311-07:00Flashback: Cross-country tripNow that I'm unemployed I have no excuse to neglect this blog, so I thought I'd fatten it up a little by going down memory lane. Specifically, our cross-country move.<br />We left San Diego the Monday after the 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> of July, feeling like we'd made it out by the skin of our teeth. The previous two months were primarily spent on family visits and reunions, which was great, but really put us behind in terms of packing. Honestly, I think we'd still be there if it weren't for a group of friends who helped us move boxes, and one particular friend who packed our kitchen. You all know who you are, and Aaron and I are indebted to you for the rest of our lives.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqkQjH-7_-Y8tqmxOlSeIICeJX_EqCX_8KLCB_ia3Jr8lXc47SD618yKWRchZDNj2bS9JtB6JkYkw0QiJHkMKfog8dk7EhBw80J2u0dPGsG3LXjrJaBcuzpG6Hv-AYsxE1Nm0j_N079c6/s1600-h/DSCN1501.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqkQjH-7_-Y8tqmxOlSeIICeJX_EqCX_8KLCB_ia3Jr8lXc47SD618yKWRchZDNj2bS9JtB6JkYkw0QiJHkMKfog8dk7EhBw80J2u0dPGsG3LXjrJaBcuzpG6Hv-AYsxE1Nm0j_N079c6/s320/DSCN1501.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248610667523322834" border="0" /></a>However, after much chaos and cleaning, we were ready to hit the road. Here's Taco, planning our route. It didn't do much good because this was his attitude for most of the trip:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNkEoffIQr2Mx2V3Z7TAUel0jl15uA87shl2i2NqRlEDIX7pqKMyQXUaui1uVXZDI2AqEwcD4pHg1qtOmoaYbhyphenhyphenectidNsYh-QZvk5g2xsbp0Uvk82IfwMIzAwV_WgAb7O7_eobtPZN-X/s1600-h/DSCN1518.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNkEoffIQr2Mx2V3Z7TAUel0jl15uA87shl2i2NqRlEDIX7pqKMyQXUaui1uVXZDI2AqEwcD4pHg1qtOmoaYbhyphenhyphenectidNsYh-QZvk5g2xsbp0Uvk82IfwMIzAwV_WgAb7O7_eobtPZN-X/s320/DSCN1518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248611282479986178" border="0" /></a>Can't you just hear the fury? We did let him out of the car in Nebraska and he climbed all over us, staring out of the windows before deciding it was best to just get back in his cage and go to sleep.<br />I have extremely fond memories of traveling cross-country with my family when I was 10 and 11, and I've wanted to recreate that trip for a long time now: a leisurely drive scouting out the unusual and uniquely American, collecting stories about small towns and rest stops. Never in this scenario did I imagine gas at $4 a gallon, a shrieking cat in the backseat, or only having about a week to move and get set up because my job was waiting for me. So we avoided most of the sightseeing. However, we saw some incredible scenery from the car. Here I am at Devil's Canyon in Utah.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jghBN4J_EBtBEdu06rR1PiBNVa5WPosqqdNIr3FrRbmDPLW2Lg2s9bc5xkxnLhXHAlIvchXtIhqMjJxMrfKHRjrrPlei42q8WRxpuQ6c5eyD3fBuhyvuoGodfMt1zY2ZbxAbjQjXK7CA/s1600-h/DSCN1505.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jghBN4J_EBtBEdu06rR1PiBNVa5WPosqqdNIr3FrRbmDPLW2Lg2s9bc5xkxnLhXHAlIvchXtIhqMjJxMrfKHRjrrPlei42q8WRxpuQ6c5eyD3fBuhyvuoGodfMt1zY2ZbxAbjQjXK7CA/s320/DSCN1505.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248610916399129874" border="0" /></a>I love desert scenery -- especially from an air-conditioned car.<br />Nebraska was probably the most eventful part of the trip. We saw a brush fire on the highway median, goats being milked at a rest stop, and part of the Oregon Trail. It was weird to read about pioneers seeking their fortune by heading west when we were doing the same thing, but heading east!<br />Oh, and if you are trying to work on a laptop while driving through the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">midwest</span>, be sure to plan your route through Iowa. They have free wireless at nearly every rest stop!<br />Just when we thought we'd never get there, we made it to Wisconsin. It was too late to move in to our new apartment, but we managed to stay in a motel in our new home state. Here's a picture of our reflections and Taco.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoVyjcFpr1cPMjflOEMi4Ntj-X5j3E1zkMgNPX_VDZYKsh-QdnkI_TyOn4JyRYnYuKzs-Nu1PWIKXNDAJF2WoW8-koyQCDCbpy3XnbloXk1BxQC3klqepy6gdM6IbGqEMq37oO3M9NHz8/s1600-h/DSCN1532.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoVyjcFpr1cPMjflOEMi4Ntj-X5j3E1zkMgNPX_VDZYKsh-QdnkI_TyOn4JyRYnYuKzs-Nu1PWIKXNDAJF2WoW8-koyQCDCbpy3XnbloXk1BxQC3klqepy6gdM6IbGqEMq37oO3M9NHz8/s320/DSCN1532.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248611010903584370" border="0" /></a>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1617559704793657964.post-19709710154130495502008-09-17T09:20:00.000-07:002008-09-17T20:17:28.359-07:00The Art of Being UnemployedWell, I received a surprise phone call last week from my boss's boss. A really nice guy, he went on at length about the great job I've been doing even though I've been working remotely, but how the company needs to do some reorganizing and so ... I've been laid off!<br />My friends are all being very sweet and sympathetic, but I have to say that I'm not that disappointed. I prefer steady paychecks, but I will receive a bit of severance. And while I love working from home, never being in the office had its drawbacks, as did trying to live in two time zones at once.<br />My family, however, are pretty excited for me. They know I'm working on my third (unpublished) novel and that this is my chance focus on that and live the writer's life, a lifelong dream of mine. Even if I remain unpublished, at least I'll have had this time.<br />So when you're wondering what I'm doing, here's a sample. Me at my desk with Pickle, who is a very helpful office-mate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNp-ZxsQiuXDSRNKpFfNyQZmJ7unLAMjjneKzo9gBullUK37pQRg_720lGtCJbsgP8BZIpsuIy7IOy2uWM2OV0mfOaamIxy7HeppVsbXPhyphenhyphenm80STARxtTaQHTaYwO0daOxit0v4YeD2bx/s1600-h/atmydesk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNp-ZxsQiuXDSRNKpFfNyQZmJ7unLAMjjneKzo9gBullUK37pQRg_720lGtCJbsgP8BZIpsuIy7IOy2uWM2OV0mfOaamIxy7HeppVsbXPhyphenhyphenm80STARxtTaQHTaYwO0daOxit0v4YeD2bx/s320/atmydesk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247033320450608866" border="0" /></a>Denise Schillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09035475878523613914noreply@blogger.com1