<?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-6101927975737778450</id><updated>2011-07-08T08:31:12.497-04:00</updated><category term='Rose'/><title type='text'>The Story of Our Lives</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-5328515762178432894</id><published>2010-05-26T21:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T21:49:52.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>another word for webster</title><content type='html'>Rose's new word "lasterday" has become a hit with many of our friends (see my earlier post if you missed it).  Now John has coined a word of his own that I think I'm going to like equally as well.  The word is "snactivity".  It's any activity that includes a snack along with it.  The opportunities are endless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk to the park with some Reese cups&lt;br /&gt;A bikeride on the towpath with some gatorade and a bag of granola&lt;br /&gt;A trip to zoo with a can of pringles or some "gummies"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try it out and let me know what your favorite "snactivity" is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-5328515762178432894?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/5328515762178432894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=5328515762178432894' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5328515762178432894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5328515762178432894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2010/05/another-word-for-webster.html' title='another word for webster'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-8226344662223235258</id><published>2010-05-26T21:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T21:43:48.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the girl who cried poop</title><content type='html'>I'm sure you've heard of "the boy who cried wolf". My Mom told me the story many times, along with others like "the little red hen" when she wanted to make a point that she didn't want us to forget. Think of this as a modern day twist to the old classic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, the babysitter was at our house watching John and Rose while Laurel and I were gone. Rose was getting a bath while the babysitter was in the living room changing her own baby's diaper. From the bathroom, Rose called "Jocelyn, I need you." To which Jocelyn replied, "just a minute...I'm changing the baby's diaper". Rose immediately came back with "I need you now...I'm going to poop in the bathtub." Jocelyn ran to the bathroom as quick as she could, but upon entering the bathroom, she saw Rose smiling at her and she said, "I'm not really going to poop, I just wanted you to come now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is coming from my daughter at the age of three, I'm a little concerned thinking about what it will be like to have a teenage daughter in the house someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-8226344662223235258?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/8226344662223235258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=8226344662223235258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8226344662223235258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8226344662223235258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2010/05/girl-who-cried-poop.html' title='the girl who cried poop'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1152643981658520784</id><published>2010-02-17T22:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T22:37:18.104-05:00</updated><title type='text'>made from scrap</title><content type='html'>Laurel and I went away overnight to Amish country last weekend to celebrate Valentine's day together.  On the way home we stopped and had lunch at the Amish Door in Wilmot.  We brought home leftovers and last night I gave John one of the rolls to eat as a snack because he was hungry at bedtime (what else is new?).  He informed me that he really likes the rolls from Amish Door because they're "made from scrap".  Well maybe not quite as appealing as "made from scratch" it was still pretty cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1152643981658520784?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1152643981658520784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1152643981658520784' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1152643981658520784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1152643981658520784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2010/02/made-from-scrap.html' title='made from scrap'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-7686593513122924047</id><published>2010-02-05T21:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T21:29:40.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Webster material?</title><content type='html'>Every so often, Webster adds new words to the dictionary. I'm not sure if this one will make it or not, but I would definately vote for it. The word is "lasterday". Here's the story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, when Rose got up early (as she normally does) she asked me for some "cootie crackers". I do the majority of the grocery shopping at our house, but I must admit that I wasn't familier with this particular item. She told me they were in the pantry in the kitchen. After several minutes of trying to guess and offering various items from our pantry, I was about to give up, because my search for "cootie crackers" was unsuccessful. Then came Rose's comment "they were in there lasterday" (more on this later).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the "cootie crackers" could not be found in the kitchen pantry, Rose suggested that we check the pantry downstairs where we keep some of the extra items that we buy ahead. After playing the guessing game down there for a few minutes, I finally hit on the right item. Any guesses? Okay, I'll tell you....vanilla wafers. Turns out, I think "cootie crackers" was actually "cookie crackers".  (Kind of like her swim soup and slip slops that she wears at the pool.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, once I realized that it was vanilla wafers, it occured to me that we had been out of them for about a week. So, it turns out that "lasterday" means the last day that a paticular thing occured. It is not necessarily the same thing as yesterday. For example, if you're talking to a friend that you haven't seen in a few months, you might say, "wow! I haven't seen you since lasterday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and give it a try. Who knows, if it catches on, maybe it will eventually make Webster's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-7686593513122924047?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/7686593513122924047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=7686593513122924047' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7686593513122924047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7686593513122924047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2010/02/webster-material.html' title='Webster material?'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-9083417672302133252</id><published>2009-11-23T20:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T21:08:50.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kids grow up fast</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SwtACutjwlI/AAAAAAAAAII/F4rCj7mMhvk/s1600/j0182645.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 131px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407486193231446610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SwtACutjwlI/AAAAAAAAAII/F4rCj7mMhvk/s200/j0182645.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm wondering when a kid stops being a kid. It seems like they grow up fast anymore. A couple of nights ago while I was getting John's inhaler ready for him,, he opened the bottle for his other asthma medication and got one out. I didn't realize he knew how to get the child proof bottle open. When I asked him about it, he said "you just push down on it and turn it...they give you arrows to show you which way. It's really not that hard." So much for being child proof. He's only 5 years old, but he constantly amazes me.&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/6101927975737778450-9083417672302133252?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/9083417672302133252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=9083417672302133252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/9083417672302133252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/9083417672302133252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/11/kids-grow-up-fast.html' title='kids grow up fast'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SwtACutjwlI/AAAAAAAAAII/F4rCj7mMhvk/s72-c/j0182645.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-3857721126007585570</id><published>2009-10-09T11:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T14:14:20.934-04:00</updated><title type='text'>word problem</title><content type='html'>Remember word problems from when we were back in school?  You know..."if a train leaves New York at 3am heading East at 40mph, and another train leaves..."  Bringing back memories (or nightmares)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a word problem for you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a family leaves a blue case full of CDs and DVDs on a plane in Denver, Colorado and the plane is cleaned after every flight and all items found are taken to a huge lost and found room as soon as they are found...then where is the blue case full of CDs and DVDs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer?  No one knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been 6 weeks since we left the case on our Frontier flight to Denver, Colorado and they still claim that it has not been found.  Kind of makes you wonder...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-3857721126007585570?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/3857721126007585570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=3857721126007585570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/3857721126007585570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/3857721126007585570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/10/word-problem.html' title='word problem'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-3627652291596948612</id><published>2009-10-08T18:05:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T18:14:59.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>which one of these things is not like the other?</title><content type='html'>The other afternoon I was sitting at my desk doing some work on my computer, when Rose walked u&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Ss5j5V9VzoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/xrIXDVWk9yA/s1600-h/chapstick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 124px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 93px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390355640807181954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Ss5j5V9VzoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/xrIXDVWk9yA/s200/chapstick.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;p to me and handed me my chapstick. She smiled and said "Daddy, here's your &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Ss5kCDkOjkI/AAAAAAAAAH4/f9mLJ_SmARc/s1600-h/gluestick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 116px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 116px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390355790488833602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Ss5kCDkOjkI/AAAAAAAAAH4/f9mLJ_SmARc/s200/gluestick.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;glue". I guess to her it looks a lot like her glue stick that she sometimes uses for crafts. My only concern is that if she sees me one too many times using my chapstick, that she will eventually try it herself and glue her lips together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-3627652291596948612?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/3627652291596948612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=3627652291596948612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/3627652291596948612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/3627652291596948612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-sticks-are-not-created-equal.html' title='which one of these things is not like the other?'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Ss5j5V9VzoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/xrIXDVWk9yA/s72-c/chapstick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-2437917954021997289</id><published>2009-09-24T08:16:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T20:57:52.745-04:00</updated><title type='text'>itching, leaking and streaking</title><content type='html'>We're in Gatlinburg, Tennessee attending the Timothy Barnabas retreat with Pastor Johnny Hunt from First Baptist Woodstock. We had a great drive down and thankfully that was uneventful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, we checked in at the conference and they had hors'deurves set up on a long table. It was almost time for dinner, so we only sampled a few. Turns out that one of the small quiche things that I chose had seafood in it. I don't like seafood, but not wanting to have bad manners, I chewed it a few times and swallowed it, followed by something that tasted a whole lot better. The only problem was, as it turns out, I have a slight allergy to shellfish (in this case it was shrimp). Since I don't like seafood, I hardly ever eat it, and had never had a reaction before. Thankfully, the kitchen staff had benedryl that they gave to me and the itching and red spots began to be less noticable throughout the course of the evening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the conference, we went back to our room and being somewhat doped up from the benedryl, I was tired and headed to bed pretty quickly. Laurel was watching something on TV and I was drifting in and out of sleep. Suddenly, the air conditioner kicked off and we both heard something that sounded like water running out on the floor of our room. The culprit? Water running out on the floor of our room. Long story short...the AC had issues and wasn't draining outside as it should. It was draining on the floor of our room. The solution? They moved us next door to the suite, which has a king bed, jacuzzi tub, and fireplace.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SrtmxlZgBPI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qnnsAioAYuw/s1600-h/DSCF7466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385010781490250994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SrtmxlZgBPI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qnnsAioAYuw/s200/DSCF7466.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SrtmnyHoTuI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Huk64L_z9nU/s1600-h/DSCF7465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385010613106265826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SrtmnyHoTuI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Huk64L_z9nU/s200/DSCF7465.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, it wasn't quite so bad I guess. Especially compared to the guy we sat with at dinner last night. He got to the conference and realized that he had forgotten all of his clothes at home. Since streaking would obviously be frowned on a pastor's conference, they ran to Wal-mart and bought a new shirt and pair of jeans for him. After checking out, he went into the restroom to remove the tags and put the clothes on. The only problem was, that as he was changing, he heard what sounded like a couple of youngs boys talking in the bathroom stalls next to him. Then the reality hit home. Four stalls is a lot of stalls in a men's bathroom. Turns out, he was changing clothes in the woman's bathroom!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-2437917954021997289?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/2437917954021997289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=2437917954021997289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2437917954021997289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2437917954021997289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/09/itching-leaking-and-streaking.html' title='itching, leaking and streaking'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SrtmxlZgBPI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qnnsAioAYuw/s72-c/DSCF7466.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1112625403585094017</id><published>2009-09-14T22:25:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T22:58:43.387-04:00</updated><title type='text'>garden of the gods</title><content type='html'>It's pretty much a given. Every year when we're in the Springs, at some point, we make our way over to garden of the gods to walk around. It's beautiful and it's free, so it's pretty hard to resist. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381517330537531890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq79f-dMSfI/AAAAAAAAAGY/958iIXu3zeA/s320/DSCF7390.JPG" /&gt; Not to mention...it's the only place that I know of where you can see "kissing camels".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8ACuFCCJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/5mQnZWAhR1k/s1600-h/DSCF7404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381520126459906194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8ACuFCCJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/5mQnZWAhR1k/s320/DSCF7404.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8ACuFCCJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/5mQnZWAhR1k/s1600-h/DSCF7404.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8ACuFCCJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/5mQnZWAhR1k/s1600-h/DSCF7404.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John and Rose both really enjoyed walking around and climbing on some of the smaller (and not so small) rocks. We spotted some guys climbing with ropes on the really big rocks &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq7_AX5JagI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2c12GbOISvQ/s1600-h/DSCF7394.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381518986633112066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq7_AX5JagI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2c12GbOISvQ/s320/DSCF7394.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and the kids wanted to try it, but I tried to explain that it was not an option for us. John wanted to know when he is a few years older, if we can get some equipment and a rock climbing permit so we can try it. Hmmm...it sounds like fun, but as someone who is scared of heights, I'm not too su&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8BWXGy_BI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t5cVSRv5edU/s1600-h/DSCF7407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521563402304530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq8BWXGy_BI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t5cVSRv5edU/s320/DSCF7407.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;re.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1112625403585094017?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1112625403585094017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1112625403585094017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1112625403585094017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1112625403585094017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/09/garden-of-gods.html' title='garden of the gods'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq79f-dMSfI/AAAAAAAAAGY/958iIXu3zeA/s72-c/DSCF7390.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-4071144867642785722</id><published>2009-09-13T21:17:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T21:43:05.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>an inside look at station #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381131488041921938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2ek_JobZI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/yv9tqX-__7s/s200/DSCF7372.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not everyday that you're invited to see things up close and personal at a fire station. While we were in Colorado Springs on vacation, we had the opportunity (through a friend) to do just that. Richie, one of the fireman at station 1, invited us down for a personal tour.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2bm5BQrvI/AAAAAAAAAFw/iYXvJsJJ7GU/s1600-h/DSCF7374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381128222221053682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2bm5BQrvI/AAAAAAAAAFw/iYXvJsJJ7GU/s200/DSCF7374.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2bYZvXw1I/AAAAAAAAAFo/FDe4b-NHsBw/s1600-h/DSCF7360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381127973306352466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2bYZvXw1I/AAAAAAAAAFo/FDe4b-NHsBw/s200/DSCF7360.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thought it was pretty cool that they let us get into the fire truck and put on the headsets so we could hear each other talking, and could even hear stuff that dispatch was saying. (We can only assume and hope that they couldn't hear us talking to each other).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, they even let us suit up in their fire gear. John wasn't sure he wanted the whole outfit on, but he did like the hat. They dressed me up in the full gear and even strapped on the 40 pound tank of compressed air and had me breath through the mask. The kids thought that was pretty cool, and to be honest, the big kid inside of me was pretty excited &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2db1LmjSI/AAAAAAAAAGA/r91DKEhp44Q/s1600-h/DSCF7385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381130231235382562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2db1LmjSI/AAAAAAAAAGA/r91DKEhp44Q/s200/DSCF7385.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;too.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2drVhZrFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/PpchXDK32Xc/s1600-h/DSCF7386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381130497614785618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2drVhZrFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/PpchXDK32Xc/s200/DSCF7386.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if that wasn't enough, they also let Laurel and I each go on two separate 911 calls with them that came in while we were there. We strapped ourselves in the truck with four other firemen and off we went with sirens wailing and lights flashing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-4071144867642785722?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/4071144867642785722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=4071144867642785722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/4071144867642785722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/4071144867642785722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/09/inside-look-at-station-1.html' title='an inside look at station #1'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sq2ek_JobZI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/yv9tqX-__7s/s72-c/DSCF7372.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-4167787476537830467</id><published>2009-09-12T22:05:00.026-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T21:17:03.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>talk about a lot of hot air...</title><content type='html'>This is the first in a series of posts about our recent trip to Colorado. Although we went out primarily to visit with Laurel's grandmother and to help take care of her during our time there, we were also able to sneak in a few really fun outings here and there for an hour or two. (Laurel's grandmother broke her hip about 4 weeks before we arrived and ended up getting out of rehab the day before we arrived. We saw a big improvement in her during the 10 days that we were there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following are some pictures from the Colorado Balloon Classic in Colorado Springs, which takes place every Labor Day weekend and is one of the largest in the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380770867662356754" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxWmHjJARI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XfyqlkfWDH8/s320/DSCF7265.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night, they have a "balloon glow" which is pretty amazing. They inflate the balloons and fire them, but don't actually take off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30am on the other hand is a very different story... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380775584748953346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s320/DSCF7285.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sqxa4sEOXwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/jVnd2gKHWZ0/s1600-h/DSCF7285.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Balloons of all colors, shapes and sizes take to the Colorado blue sky in flight. We were in utter amazement at the size of the Energizer bunny balloon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxXfEz69UI/AAAAAAAAAEw/vSfWyRtNnZk/s1600-h/DSCF7281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380771846179976514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxXfEz69UI/AAAAAAAAAEw/vSfWyRtNnZk/s320/DSCF7281.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxZQEVcwrI/AAAAAAAAAFI/hP0oVGdkbao/s1600-h/DSCF7338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380773787377386162" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxZQEVcwrI/AAAAAAAAAFI/hP0oVGdkbao/s320/DSCF7338.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Rose really liked to look at all of the balloons and watch them take off, her personal opinion was that the "firing" of the balloons was too loud. (Especially when you are surrounded by them on every side).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the long standing traditions at the Colorado Balloon Classic is to dip the baskets of the balloons in the lake at Memorial Park just after takeoff. It looked like some of the passengers actually got a little wet, but I'm sure the cheers of the crowd must mak&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxZ8lxHIcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/sy3x_VLmwEs/s1600-h/DSCF7354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380774552266023362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxZ8lxHIcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/sy3x_VLmwEs/s320/DSCF7354.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e it worth it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-4167787476537830467?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/4167787476537830467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=4167787476537830467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/4167787476537830467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/4167787476537830467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/09/talk-about-lot-of-hot-air.html' title='talk about a lot of hot air...'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SqxWmHjJARI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XfyqlkfWDH8/s72-c/DSCF7265.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1253166064994690989</id><published>2009-08-31T09:08:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T10:04:17.182-04:00</updated><title type='text'>day 1</title><content type='html'>The backpack has been ready for more than a week and John has been looking forward to this day for even longe&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvO74v1X1I/AAAAAAAAAEI/qzZZTb9r01E/s1600-h/DSCF7227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376118108437438290" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvO74v1X1I/AAAAAAAAAEI/qzZZTb9r01E/s320/DSCF7227.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r. Thankfully he slept well last night, but woke up a little nervous this morning. His first words were "Mom, I can't spell words". (This evidently just occurred to him). Laurel reassured him that they would teach him that at school and that it is all part of the plan. Other kids in his class will be facing the same hurdle. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvPGMR0tdI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/wt7bksP-t0s/s1600-h/DSCF7230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376118285478966738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvPGMR0tdI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/wt7bksP-t0s/s320/DSCF7230.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a big breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon (John got to use the "celebrate" plate of course), we loaded up into the car and all made our way to Northwest Elementary School for the first day of kindergarten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvPlOBLfNI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3q_552TyJwY/s1600-h/DSCF7232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376118818521971922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvPlOBLfNI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3q_552TyJwY/s320/DSCF7232.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inside the classroom, he found his "cubbie" and hung up his backpack and jacket (since it was just barely 50 degrees this morning). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvVaoXEm4I/AAAAAAAAAEg/3s-VbeMEvGA/s1600-h/DSCF7233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376125233684323202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvVaoXEm4I/AAAAAAAAAEg/3s-VbeMEvGA/s320/DSCF7233.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was greeted by his teacher, Mrs. Cocklin and began settling in for all of the experiences that day 1 will offer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're looking forward to a full report this evening...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1253166064994690989?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1253166064994690989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1253166064994690989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1253166064994690989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1253166064994690989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-1.html' title='day 1'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SpvO74v1X1I/AAAAAAAAAEI/qzZZTb9r01E/s72-c/DSCF7227.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-5062831545016694977</id><published>2009-08-28T22:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T23:02:05.442-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All you can eat fish buffet</title><content type='html'>This evening we were cleaning the house and getting ready for some out of town guests to arrive.  We were upstairs working on some things when all of the sudden I realized that Rose was back downstairs by herself.  Since she is 2 years old and was being quiet (not usually a good combination) I thought I should go check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw Rose standing by the fish aquarium.  When I got closer I discovered that she had climbed up on a chair, gotten out the bottle of fish food, and dumped the entire container into the aquarium.  Obviously not very happy with this discovery, I said "Rose Derry, why did you do that?"  Her reply, "they were hungry, Daddy".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-5062831545016694977?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/5062831545016694977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=5062831545016694977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5062831545016694977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5062831545016694977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/08/all-you-can-eat-fish-buffet.html' title='All you can eat fish buffet'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-6026588757359571061</id><published>2009-08-20T10:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T11:00:20.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Through the eyes of a child</title><content type='html'>It's funny sometimes to realize how children think about or see things.  Reality in their world is not always the same as it is in our adult world (and I think that's often a good thing). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few nights ago, I was putting Rose to bed while Laurel was doing the same with John.  After going through the other bedtime rituals that are the standard at our house, it was time to pray.  Rose now likes to add bits and pieces of thoughts to the prayer.  For example, she likes to say things like "tanks for da milk, an for my plate".  Another thing she likes to request prayer for also is "for grampa, cause he feels sick".  This night was no exception.  She asked prayer for grandpa and then I added "and we pray for Grandma as she helps take care of Grandpa".  To which Rose, in a voice most sweet added "yeah....he's heavy". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a few seconds to try and figure out what she meant by her comment, but then I realized that all she has ever known about being sick, is that we carry her around in our arms, while she hugs our neck and snuggles close.  I guess that must have been the picture she had in her mind of Grandma taking care of Grandpa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-6026588757359571061?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/6026588757359571061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=6026588757359571061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/6026588757359571061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/6026588757359571061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/08/through-eyes-of-child.html' title='Through the eyes of a child'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-7946200256400302653</id><published>2009-03-12T21:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T21:44:17.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>desperate for food</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yet another adventure of a stay at home Dad...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other day Laurel got called in to work for the afternoon. They were short handed and we were short funded, so it seemed like a win win situation for everyone involved. I was on a very important phone call and it was time for Laurel to leave for work, so she put a movie on for the kids, knowing that I would be up soon to check on them. Well the call took a little longer than I had planned and I was getting a little nervous because the kids were being so quiet and apparently well behaved. I was hoping that they weren't coloring on the walls or something even worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got off the phone, I called Laurel to touch base with her on a couple of things, as I headed up the stairs to the kitchen. She informed me that she had made me a sandwich for lunch (which I had missed) and she had left it on the kitchen table. At this point in the conversation, I had already peeked into the living room, very pleased that there was no sign of coloring on the walls. I had also looked for my sandwich, but couldn't locate it, so I asked Laurel again where she had put it for me. She said on the table. I explained that all I saw on the table was a plate with a partially eaten sandwich and what was left of it was somewhat mangled. It looked like one of the kids leftovers that they hadn't finished. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I discovered in a moment that both things were actually true. This was in fact my sandwich, but it had now been reduced to simply the leftovers after Rose had finished with it. She looked up at me with a happy face and announced "Aarrr...I bite it!" How can you argue with a cute face like that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312482027485163650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sbm6QdvmcII/AAAAAAAAADw/dU6szsE5rkY/s320/rose+581.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-7946200256400302653?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/7946200256400302653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=7946200256400302653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7946200256400302653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7946200256400302653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/03/desperate-for-food.html' title='desperate for food'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/Sbm6QdvmcII/AAAAAAAAADw/dU6szsE5rkY/s72-c/rose+581.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1592326381179333918</id><published>2009-03-09T22:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T21:47:57.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>rose bowl parade</title><content type='html'>In my last post, I mentioned that my status is now officially listed as "missionary". As such, I am working on raising the financial support needed so I can serve here in NE Ohio. With the economy currently being a little less than desirable, this is a somewhat slow process as you might imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my current support level is way below that of the poverty line and my kids like to eat every day, Laurel is currently picking up about 2 days a week with her nursing job and I am staying at home on those two days to take care of the kids. It is somewhat of a challenge for me because I'm not really cut out to be a "stay at home Dad" but it is also a joy to get to spend extra time with the kids while they are small. In addition to pulling my hair out on some days, I also laugh and smile a lot at the things that they do and the memories we are making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One smile I got last week was from the "rose bowl parade" which took place in our living room. As you can see in the picture below, Rose grabbed a bowl from the kitchen, put it on her head and proceeded to parade around the house humming a happy tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311381847528484402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SbXRpkBkrjI/AAAAAAAAADo/kJHC8i60Xl8/s320/rose+537.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1592326381179333918?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1592326381179333918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1592326381179333918' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1592326381179333918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1592326381179333918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/03/rose-bowl-parade.html' title='rose bowl parade'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SbXRpkBkrjI/AAAAAAAAADo/kJHC8i60Xl8/s72-c/rose+537.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1286654404317668234</id><published>2009-02-24T16:16:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T21:51:41.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>missed the boat again</title><content type='html'>Laurel and I flew to Savannah, Georgia this past weekend to be commissioned as missionaries through the North American Mission Board. (This is part of the process we're going through as we plant a new church in Canal Fulton, Ohio). We stayed at the Westin Savannah Harbor Resort which was across the river from the hisoric riverfront of Savannah. We had a beautiful view from our room and the motel was one of the nicest that we have ever stayed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSvK3hbt_I/AAAAAAAAADQ/s-wjAg6Az4g/s1600-h/savannah+feb+2009+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306558862187018226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSvK3hbt_I/AAAAAAAAADQ/s-wjAg6Az4g/s320/savannah+feb+2009+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSvX1JeMNI/AAAAAAAAADY/Sxv3DMO23Ik/s1600-h/savannah+feb+2009+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306559084887945426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSvX1JeMNI/AAAAAAAAADY/Sxv3DMO23Ik/s320/savannah+feb+2009+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numerous times during our stay we took the free water taxi across to the other side to eat in one of the many local restaurants or to explore the historic district of Savannah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306559810398517874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSwCD4q-nI/AAAAAAAAADg/ASN1WK_OHR8/s320/savannah+feb+2009+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It ran on a schedule (more or less) and we enjoyed it as part of our overall experience. However it became a little frustrating to us on Monday when we went down to get on the water taxi and cross over to the other side for lunch. We walked out the door only to discover that the water taxi was already pulling away, a minute or two ahead of scheule. Since it takes about 30 minutes for it to make one complete trip (there are a total of three stops) we decided to go pack the rest of our stuff, check out early and check our bags at the front desk. Then we would catch the next taxi across the river, have lunch, and head straight to the airport when we got back to the motel. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All went according to plan until we headed out to catch the water taxi again to go across and have lunch. You guessed it. We missed the boat again! It was just pulling away, once again a minute or two ahead of schedule. So we headed to the airport early and had lunch there with another couple from our group before flying to Atlanta and making our connection to continue our trip home. Thankfully we did NOT miss our flight (they were on schedule).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1286654404317668234?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1286654404317668234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1286654404317668234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1286654404317668234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1286654404317668234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/02/missed-boat-again.html' title='missed the boat again'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SaSvK3hbt_I/AAAAAAAAADQ/s-wjAg6Az4g/s72-c/savannah+feb+2009+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1299493702248013825</id><published>2009-02-01T15:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T18:40:54.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>more is not always better</title><content type='html'>No matter how old I get, there are still lessons to be learned. One particular lesson that I am learning recently is that more is not always better. This is a common misconception among most people today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my case in point. A year or so ago, John got a box of crayons. It's not a box of 8 or 12 or even 24. I'm talking about the box of 96 crayons with the built in sharpener on the back. This is for those children who are really serious about coloring. And it comes in really handy during those moments where you need burnt umber or chartreuse. At the time we got John the box of crayons it seemed like a good idea. But here-in lies the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose is a few weeks short of being 2 and she does not fully comprehend that crayons are for paper. No, in her mind, crayons were created to draw all over any empty space that you might encounter. The wall, the table, the floor, and most recently the front of the microwave in our downstairs kitchenette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm realizing is that it is nearly impossible to keep track of 96 crayons. Just when you think you have them all safely stored away, she finds a stray one and decorates something with it. I'm pretty sure I could keep track of 8 crayons...maybe even 12. And you can make a decent picture with those basic colors, right? The sky is blue, the grass is green, the trees are brown. In this case, maybe simple is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1299493702248013825?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1299493702248013825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1299493702248013825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1299493702248013825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1299493702248013825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-is-not-always-better.html' title='more is not always better'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-8495485056750404567</id><published>2009-01-30T18:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T19:09:07.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>forward thinking</title><content type='html'>John is at that stage where he is always thinking, and always thinking up new things. For example, the other night, he was playing with his legos before dinner and built this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297241986645169842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SYOVhVdFFrI/AAAAAAAAADI/wbZdwr4feMM/s400/blog+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean "what is it"? You can't tell? It's a mobile cell phone tower. This is the very thing that will make it possible in the future for you to never miss another call because you're in a remote area, or drop a call because of a weak signal or a dead spot. "Can you hear me now" will be a thing of the past.  All because of John who is a forward thinker.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, I know what you're thinking. It's a little large to hook on behind your car, and a little too high to go under the underpasses on the highway. There's always at least one sceptic in every crowd.  But are you forgetting that the first computer took up an entire city block? Now you can fit one in your pocket. Keep in mind that this is just the first prototype. The design will keep being tweaked and redesigned over time. And before you know it, everyone will have one. And you'll be able to say that you knew John when....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-8495485056750404567?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/8495485056750404567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=8495485056750404567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8495485056750404567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8495485056750404567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/01/forward-thinking.html' title='forward thinking'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SYOVhVdFFrI/AAAAAAAAADI/wbZdwr4feMM/s72-c/blog+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-327222866765193106</id><published>2009-01-22T14:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T14:20:41.759-05:00</updated><title type='text'>two words...sticker back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Rose isn't quite talking in full sentences yet (after all she's not quite 2 yet) but she is definately talking. She communicates in broken sentences making all of her wants and wishes known. She's so darn cute and polite (always saying please and thank you) that it's hard not to give in to her every request. Rose stopped by my office (in our basement) yesterday, as she often does when she's in the area, just to say hello and give Daddy a hug. When she came in yesterday, she pointed to my pad of post it notes and said "sticker". She repeated this a few times, until I ripped off the top note, which had a phone number I no longer needed, and handed it to Rose. To which she replied, "no...back!" She wanted me to stick it on her back, which is what they do in the church nursery and at the YMCA when she's in childcare. She wore the post it on her back until it was time for her nap, and then I peeled it off without being detected and snuggled her into her crib to drift off to dreamland.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294199741712470002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SXjGnX68j_I/AAAAAAAAAC4/w40kRZD-aRM/s400/rose+534.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-327222866765193106?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/327222866765193106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=327222866765193106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/327222866765193106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/327222866765193106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/01/two-wordssticker-back.html' title='two words...sticker back'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SXjGnX68j_I/AAAAAAAAAC4/w40kRZD-aRM/s72-c/rose+534.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-8759595789890772832</id><published>2009-01-10T22:23:00.038-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T21:36:53.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>snow fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289887641935972962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWl0yIdSimI/AAAAAAAAACA/OGfbQDITTdY/s320/family+177.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The first words out of John's mouth when he got up this morning at 7:30am were "can we go sledding&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWqqdgJtGOI/AAAAAAAAACI/Hc97zvr1tZs/s1600-h/family+156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290228136123635938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWqqdgJtGOI/AAAAAAAAACI/Hc97zvr1tZs/s200/family+156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;?" He has been waiting for enough snow to go sledding ever since the first flake fell a couple of months ago. But until today, we hadn't gotten more than an inch or so at a time. Never enough for sledding...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to sledding (and shoveling our long driveway) we also made snow angels and a big honkin' snowman. Then when we came back inside, we all had a cup of hot cocoa. Today was one of those days that good old fashioned family memories are made of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWlyk_h-OUI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-umdQWMOB6E/s1600-h/family+157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289885217178138946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWlyk_h-OUI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-umdQWMOB6E/s200/family+157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago (on Thursday) on the other hand was not one of those days. I took Rose to the YMCA for her parent/baby swim class only to discover that I had forgotten my swimsuit. I left the "Y" and went to the grocery store and then back home...only to discover when I got home that I had left my groceries at the store. I guess it's a good thing that I don't have dentures or a hair piece yet, or I probably wouldn't be able to remember where I left those either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the kids will still have a few more fun days and good memories with Dad before they have to put me in the nursing home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-8759595789890772832?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/8759595789890772832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=8759595789890772832' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8759595789890772832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/8759595789890772832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2009/01/snow-fun.html' title='snow fun'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SWl0yIdSimI/AAAAAAAAACA/OGfbQDITTdY/s72-c/family+177.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1417600534641826487</id><published>2008-12-29T12:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T22:20:24.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never call 911 unless it's an emergency</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SVkNSxfBqRI/AAAAAAAAABA/9HeDxhJSaHQ/s1600-h/j0387943.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285270253868263698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 142px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SVkNSxfBqRI/AAAAAAAAABA/9HeDxhJSaHQ/s200/j0387943.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rose is still a little too young to understand, but we have talked with John more than once about this. "Never call 911 unless it's an emergency".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well sooner or later it happens to many of us. Today was the day. I heard a knock at the door and went to answer it, only to discover a policeman at our door. As I opened the door (to a friendly Canal Fulton policeman that I know personally) I had a funny feeling I knew why he was at my door. You guessed it. Someone had called 911 from our phone and then hung up. The culprit? Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my great friend Monk would say, "here's what happened". Moments earlier I had picked up the phone to call the motel in Savannah, Georgia where we will be staying when I go to be trained and commissioned by the North American Mission Board. The area code in Savannah is 912. (Do you see where this is going?) I dialed "1" and then "9" "1" but my phone hiccuped (for the lack of a better word) and accidently dialed another "1". I guess I held it down for a nano-second too long. Not realizing immediatly what had just happened, I hung up because I knew it would be a wrong number and I redialed using the correct area code and the rest of the number. As I was waiting for an answer on the other end, it did occur to me though, that I had actually dialed "1911" and I wondered if it would trigger a 911 call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now you know the rest of the story. We chatted for a few minutes and he left smiling. As slow as things are in Canal Fulton, he may have been glad to have something to go check out. I just hope that his coffee didn't get cold while he was responding to my call. Sorry Officer Tickerhoof and Chief Frisone. I'll try to be more responsible next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1417600534641826487?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1417600534641826487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1417600534641826487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1417600534641826487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1417600534641826487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/12/never-call-911-unless-its-emergency.html' title='Never call 911 unless it&apos;s an emergency'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SVkNSxfBqRI/AAAAAAAAABA/9HeDxhJSaHQ/s72-c/j0387943.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-823280036014286222</id><published>2008-12-26T08:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T12:31:12.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean</title><content type='html'>We have a little one in the house who likes to clean and be clean! Rose loves baths, washing her hands and brushing her teeth! If we'd let her she'd be washing her hands and brushing her teeth everytime we go in the bathroom! :) Unlike many kids who are attached to their favorite stuffed animal, she actually encourages us to wash her Sleepy Bear that she sleeps with all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas Eve we found out that she had actually attempted to wash it all by herself. It had just been washed at her request the day before so when she inquired again I told her he was clean and didn't need cleaned again. Shortly thereafter she came out to me and kept saying, "Bear, wet!" I thought she had just spilled a little water on it or something, but when I felt it a little later I realized that the one half of the bear was quite wet. We finally got her to show us where Sleepy Bear had gotten wet and she took us to the toilet! Yep! She had tried to dunk and clean it all by herself! LOL! Thankfully she didn't leave it in the toilet or try to flush it! Needless to say Sleepy Bear did go in the wash again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also discovered that she likes to clean up trash. For Christmas she was staying more busy cleaning up the wrapping paper then she was opening her own presents! :) She kept picking up the wrapping paper saying, "Trash, trash." :) Hopefully all of this bodes well for a clean room as she grows up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-823280036014286222?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/823280036014286222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=823280036014286222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/823280036014286222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/823280036014286222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/12/clean.html' title='Clean'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-5769206934691811713</id><published>2008-12-22T20:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T20:37:57.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a little perspective goes a long way</title><content type='html'>Laurel was at work the other day while I was running "daddy day care".  I was preparing lunch for the kids, when all of the sudden John declared that he was starving.  (From the looks of it, he will most likely take up my interest in drama).  I told John that while he might be hungry, he was not starving.  He insisted that he was in fact starving, so I quickly made my way to the bookcase and pulled out one of our photo albums that contained pictures of one of my mission trips to Haiti about 10 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and I sat down at the kitchen table and I showed him what kids who are starving look like.  I showed him the types of houses that they live in (if you want to call it that) and I showed him the street that they live on, and how they take their baths naked right next to the street.  He looked at the pictures with awe in his eyes and seemed to reconsider the whole starving idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to forget how good we really have it and sometimes all we need is a little perspective to help bring us back to reality.  Like most of the rest of the world, we will celebrate Christmas in just a few days.  While money is in short supply at our house and we don't have many gifts to give, I am reminded that we still have more than most of the rest of the world.  I am also reminded that Christmas is all about one gift in particular and I already have that one.  It's Jesus, who came to this world over 2000 years ago to be our Savior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-5769206934691811713?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/5769206934691811713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=5769206934691811713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5769206934691811713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/5769206934691811713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/12/little-perspective-goes-long-way.html' title='a little perspective goes a long way'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-2225008564019153636</id><published>2008-11-26T10:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T23:03:05.534-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rose'/><title type='text'>"Hoag"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SUXW2u63qSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Q51R-gSwC9o/s1600-h/rose+511.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279862373958002978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SUXW2u63qSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Q51R-gSwC9o/s320/rose+511.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now you might not recognize this word, but it's become one of my favorites. Rose says it to David and me numerous times a day. A couple of months ago she combined Hug and Hold and came up with Hoag when she wants to be picked up and cuddled. It's fun to add new words to your vocabulary when they come from your 21 month old!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-2225008564019153636?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/2225008564019153636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=2225008564019153636' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2225008564019153636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2225008564019153636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/11/hoag.html' title='&quot;Hoag&quot;'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SUXW2u63qSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Q51R-gSwC9o/s72-c/rose+511.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-1927696002918581092</id><published>2008-11-21T19:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T19:27:34.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we're doing WHAT for Thanksgiving?</title><content type='html'>When I dropped John off at preschool today, the teacher gave me a booklet they had made telling what each child in his class is doing for Thanksgiving. As I was getting in the van I glanced at John's page, and thought WHAT? That's not what we're doing for Thanksgiving! Then I realized that they had asked each child for their answers and compiled a hilarious book full of stories from a child's perspective. Here is John's...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"John will be going to the Amish Door for Thanksgiving dinner. he said that Grandma and Grandpa and Mamo and Poobah (who live far away) will join them. They will have grapes along with turkey for dinner and candy from John's candy bucket for dessert. He said that Mom and Dad will cook the turkey by putting salt and pepper on it and baking it in the oven for one hour. John is thankful for the Christmas tree and lights".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;While we will have turkey for Thanksgiving and we will see both sets of Grandparents, that's about where the similarity ends, and John's imagination begins...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-1927696002918581092?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/1927696002918581092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=1927696002918581092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1927696002918581092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/1927696002918581092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/11/were-doing-what-for-thanksgiving.html' title='we&apos;re doing WHAT for Thanksgiving?'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-2458500372951224511</id><published>2008-11-20T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T13:39:15.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks-living</title><content type='html'>Like all parents, we try to raise our children to the best of our ability (and still we know that we fall short). There are moments that we can't believe our children would do or say some of the things they do. But there are also plenty of other moments where we are so proud of them for what they do and say. Of course, we want to take credit for it, but if we're honest we know it's really God at work in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at bedtime was one of those moments. After I had tucked John into bed and prayed with him, I was getting ready to leave the room. Of course like most kids, he tries to think about things to talk about in these moments, so he can stall for a little more time. Last night what he said to me was "Dad, can we make a list of things that I'm thankful for, so I can take it to Heaven with me and give it to God?" Wow! Where did that come from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, it would be great to make list of things you're thankful for and then we can share the list with God when we pray and we can thank Him for all of those things. I told him that I'd be happy to help him with his list tomorrow, but for now he needed to get to sleep. He thought for a brief moment and then asked again if he could take the list to Heaven to give to God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without getting into a deep theological conversation...with a 4 year old...at bedtime (actually past bedtime now) I told him that when we go to Heaven we don't take anything with us. He was okay with not taking toys, stuffed animals or other things that he really liked, but he still didn't see why he couldn't take the list.  Oh well, maybe he'll understand that when he's five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prayer is that we can all remember to be this thankful. Not just at this time of the year, but every day of our lives. It's what I like to call "Thanks-living".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-2458500372951224511?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/2458500372951224511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=2458500372951224511' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2458500372951224511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/2458500372951224511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanks-living.html' title='Thanks-living'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101927975737778450.post-7575256344919368511</id><published>2008-11-18T20:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T19:55:40.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 1</title><content type='html'>This is the place I hope to record our funny, interesting and unusual moments. I've missed so many already with John and Rose. So often we don't get to share their funny comments, questions or actions with more than one or two people before they are forgotten. I'm hoping this will be a way to share with our friends and family more of the day to day and week to week adventures and story of our lives. It will also help record this story so John and Rose will be able to learn about their early years.  I was inspired in this journey by my brother-in-law and sister-in-law as they started a blog when they adopted their daughter Lily this summer and have continued to keep us updated with the whole family. We hope you enjoy the story as it continues to unfold... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101927975737778450-7575256344919368511?l=derryheir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/feeds/7575256344919368511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101927975737778450&amp;postID=7575256344919368511' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7575256344919368511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101927975737778450/posts/default/7575256344919368511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://derryheir.blogspot.com/2008/11/chaper-1.html' title='Chapter 1'/><author><name>David and Laurel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03437880918660569315</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7KqJDe7u4nQ/SSOHFRmZ4CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qQETgPWjbu4/S220/DSCF5875_875_251.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
