tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22118553207665076572024-03-19T09:07:45.908-04:00i tell you what!THE GARRISON PERSPECTIVECristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.comBlogger252125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-69356799475294247692012-06-30T14:32:00.001-04:002012-06-30T14:32:29.033-04:00new blogthere is a new blog in town. this current one decided to be lame and not allow me any more space for pictures. and pictures are key.<br />
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so i hope you will all follow me over to the new blog:<br />
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<a href="http://whambamgarrisonfam.blogspot.com/">whambamgarrisonfam.blogspot.com</a><br />
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you'd be surprised at how many different names i had to try before blogger accepted this one. i guess there's quite a few garrison families out there.<br />
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so pleeeeeaaasse, follow me at the new blog. xoxo.Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-38881696816070517202012-06-13T12:48:00.002-04:002012-06-13T12:49:52.039-04:00CATALINA ROOMMATE RETREAT///MAY 2012<br />
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colette, lora, afton, cristine, brittany</div>
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college days with these girls were fun. but what's even <i>more</i> fun is now we can take trips together and reminisce about all that fun! and create even <i>more</i> fun memories! the fun-ness is astounding. and as collette so eloquently announced to everyone at karaoke: "we're just moms on vacation." we lived it up yessiree bob, as only five, young, married, mormon, non-drinking moms can. we shopped, we ate, we drove the golf cart, we escaped would-be attackers/hitchhikers on <i>multiple</i> occasions, we over-dramatized our near-death experiences more than once, we talked, we laughed, we tanned and we took pictures. by golly did we take pictures. here's to the next reunion girls!<br />
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<br /></div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-80971662543709656402012-06-11T13:27:00.000-04:002012-06-11T13:27:05.453-04:00THE ELEVENTH MONTH<div style="text-align: center;">
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this is it. freak out time. it's the last month before the big change. and now, just two more weeks til scott and i have a 1 year old, and officially start crying over how fast time goes and how much he's grown and all that he's accomplished. you'd think the kid was about to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. but he's kind of a big deal so i'm allowed to be dramatic. he's like the Justin Beiber in my life. i just can't get enough. i got the fever. "baby, baby, baby, oh!"<br />
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he said Mama for the first time a couple weeks ago. actually he whined it. he crawled up to my feet, pulled himself onto my legs, nearly yanking my pants down and pathetically pleaded, "Mama...Baba!" it was so sweet. and sad that he was that hungry he felt he needed to break the communication barrier. now i hear "mama" a million times a day.<br />
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and boy is he a ham! he loves to blow raspberries on my legs, try and playfully bite my toes, dance (his trademark move is the pelvic thrust), shriek so high-pitched that dogs have been deafened, growl as he plays with his dinosaurs, bang on his eating tray, feed <i>me</i> bits of food, and crazily crawl around in circles. i absolutely love it.<br />
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and on June 25th you can bet i'll be singing this special little classic (click below)... along with happy birthday of course. <br />
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super blurry. but had to be added. its the seventh inning stretch. mom was worried jake might fall over the edge :)Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-70456194536516782492012-06-01T16:47:00.001-04:002012-06-01T16:47:12.441-04:00THE NEXT JUSTIN BEIBER<div style="text-align: center;">
sometimes you just gotta give yourself up to the music.</div>
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video courtesy of my awesome cousin Chloe.</div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-5511187481499979272012-05-09T10:41:00.001-04:002012-05-09T10:42:15.533-04:00LINA LOUso because she is gorgeous i must share some pictures of my littlest sis' mormon prom a couple weeks ago. but lets be honest, it's really all about the dress. and let me be more honest, i'm bragging here. because I picked out the dress. :)<br />
story time:<br />
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have you ever been to the Fashion District in LA? well, it's scuzzy. pretty dirty. yucky-city. BUT...there is one shop there that is amazing. two stories high and packed, let me repeat that, <i>packed</i> from floor to ceiling with prom and pageant dresses ranging up to well over a thousand dollars in price. (a thousand dollars was not our budget :) but of course every dress i swooned over was at least $1,200. again, a little much to spend on a mormon prom :)<br />
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because the place is so popular and because their dresses are so expensive (i imagine) there is a very strict rule kept in force: you can only try on 5 dresses. max. and not one more. if you don't find your dress in those 5 you picked, then you have to come back another day. it's major pressure and a big stress-inducer. especially for little lina--who, now lina let's be frank, gets a titch irritable while shopping. so we go through the five dresses we picked. nada. there was one...but no....not the one. lina was getting irritable. a wee bit cranky-pants.<br />
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i thought it was all over. i was depressed because lina didn't choose the little form-fitting, marigold, runway-worthy number. but in hindsight, it was too mature for her. so we head over to the original store location across the street where it was quiet and deserted. just to check. it wasn't as glamorous as the new location. there were no chandeliers and plasma tvs airing fashion week. but it felt a little more relaxed in there without a consultant counting the dresses in our arms or pushy, jersey shore entourages ramming their way down the aisles.<br />
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mom, lina and i split up. we scoured the racks quickly because we weren't sure how much time we had left on our parking meter! mom would show lina a dress, "this one?" no. then i'd show her a dress, "how about this one?" no. no, no. no, no, no, no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. get the picture? i get to the <i>very</i> last rack tucked close to the back wall. <br />
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"oooooooo! lina, what about this?"<br />
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"that looks a little crazy, cristine." lina was not too into it. but i was persistent. it looked different and fun. very age-appropriate :)<br />
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i made her try it on. i helped lina into the dresses this time, and when mom saw my skills she said, "why didn't we have you help her in the other store?!" they forget i <i>did</i> work in a bridal store for heaven's sake!<br />
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the dress slips over lina's cute bod and................"(big intake of breath) i think this is the one!"<br />
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i rest my case. i am the master dress-picker. never doubt me again, sister. (plus it's a confidence booster to know that maybe you're still with it and a high schooler likes the dress you picked out :) and what's even greater, the dress had two long sashes at the back. perfect for adding sleeves. <br />
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and she is gorgeousness. a water-colored, Caribbean, curvy beauty. and all dramatizing aside, i feel grateful that i was in california to shop with her. to see her eyes light up and witness her happiness. thanks, lina lou. i love you!<br />
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sparkly TOMS. the only way to complete an outfit :)<br />
and thanks <a href="http://www.jordanmelissafamily.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">melissa</a> for inspiring me to share my sister's proms pics too! miss you gurl. <br />
<br />Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-10850746189378136052012-05-07T15:41:00.001-04:002012-05-07T15:41:50.224-04:00LEAVE IT TO BEAVERa certain little someone has developed a hankerin' for crib wood chips.<br />
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<br />Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-84389446527495700322012-05-02T13:25:00.003-04:002012-05-02T13:25:51.135-04:00JAKESTER'S EASTER///2012<br />
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easter was...what...like 3 weeks ago, you say? yeah, i know. let's just say a horrific diaper change ruined our family easter pic. and since scott was the one who changed him (i was teaching YW) the details of the experience were pretty dramatic. it left scott traumatized, me agitated and jake in a back-up outfit that didn't match. our family pic plans under the humungous oak tree in the church's lawn were foiled. <br />
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but c'est la vie. oh bla dee. oh bla dah. life goes on. and you take the easter pics three weeks later. plus, i think jake's grown even more stud-muffinly since easter. so it's a winning situation.<br />
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jake received books, shoes, his easter quilt, an animal sound puzzle and lots of candy that was more for decoration and mommy and daddy. his favorite thing that day, hands down, was the easter basket itself and the cardboard wrapper around my See's Bordeaux egg. he went to town on that thing. the kid loves paper.<br />
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happy belated easter everyone! <br />
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jake is a very good sharer :)<br />
<br />Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-80149770089934846632012-05-01T10:34:00.004-04:002012-05-01T10:41:23.839-04:00FARMER'S WIFE SAMPLER QUILT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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so i'm addicted to quilting, remember? that's old news. the new news is that i'm feeding my current obsession by dedicating myself to making 111 different quilt blocks by the end of the year. it's all *<a href="http://fussycut.blogspot.com/p/shop.html">this blog's*</a> fault. fussy cut is hosting a quilt along (cool right?) from the book, "the farmer's wife sampler quilt." a compilation of letters from 1920's farm wives and the 111 blocks that their letters inspired. again, cool right? i'm totally into the romanticism of the "olden days." so it's right up my alley. i live for this kind of stuff.<br />
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each block is different and so i figured it would be a good way to practice different patterns and learn a bit of history along the way. plus i'm trying my hand at being patient and having a long-term quilting goal. i'm piecing this together by machine because hand piecing every little part of this quilt just seems ri-donk-ulous. <i>but i am</i>, as of right now, planning on hand quilting the whole dang quilt--adding to the long-term-ness of my project. we shall see. it's quite ambitious and maybe a little too patience-required for my liking. <br />
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so here are my first four blocks. that basket handle was a beast. i wanted to go scrappy like fussy cut--using lots of different fabrics and not necessarily matching. but alas, i am a newbie, and so i don't have as many cool-io, designer fabric options as she does. hers just looks awesome. see.<br />
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i covet her fabric selection.<br />
it makes me hate my blocks.<br />
but the good news is i'll be in LA in less than two weeks and plan on raiding Michael Levine's.<br />
aka fabric heaven.<br />
perhaps fabric heaven will help me earn the title of honorary farmer's wife. </div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-445553806485091322012-04-28T11:05:00.002-04:002012-04-28T11:05:29.451-04:00JAKE IS 10 MONTHS, BABY!there are times when i look at him and think, "slow down! stop growing up!", but more and more i have the thought of, "i can't wait to see what you'll do next! i can't wait to see you as a little boy!" his hair is starting to curl at the ends and he's pulling himself up on his feet and tugging on my pants when he wants to be picked up and it is all so wonderful. it's a marvel to watch him grow into my little boy and become less and less of a baby. yes, sometimes i shed a tear or two when i watch home videos of him cooing at me and just sitting still in my arms cuddling, but then i remember how fun life is with a shrieking 10 month old crawling at my feet, getting in the trash, pulling down the hand towel for the 1,387th time, and staring up at me with those inquisitive, darling blue eyes. he makes life an adventure and we are so happy he is ours.<br />
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<br />
hah. oh man. caught red-handed. i fear this boy will be veeerrrryyyy mischievous. <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">**and is anyone else ultra-depressed that picnik is gone?**</span>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-83478757537908388532012-04-24T15:53:00.003-04:002012-04-24T15:58:42.640-04:00THINGS I LERNT LIVIN' IN THE SOUTHi tell you what! i love the sayings and phrases around these parts. i love the country accents, the food like lemon catfish with hush puppies and the church-going, God-fearin' lifestyle. never, in all my girlhood dreamings and fantasies of married life, did i envision myself here in tennessee. but i truly love it. and it's good for jokes, too. because tennessee and the tennesseans that live here crack me up constantly. <br />
<br />
where else would you hear a fellow young woman leader say, "halleluJER!"? i can barely stand to write it, it's so hilarious.<br />
<br />
where else could you go and have farm fresh eggs sold to you by one of your young women? and have her call the money she earns "egg money"? i thought that only existed in Little House on the Prairie.<br />
<br />
where else could you go and have a visiting teaching lunch date that centered around horses and their varying personalities and food preferences? i tell you what, i learned a lot about the difference between hay and straw that day. <br />
<br />
my parents recently forwarded me an email titled, "Things I Lernt Livin' in the South." now, i don't usually read forwards. they usually get sent to the deleted folder faster than you can say, "darn tootin'." but this one i curiously read with an "oh geez what" kinda attitude. and i'm glad i did, because it made me realize the funny things i hear around town. here is a sampling:<br />
<br />
Things I Lernt Livin' in the South:<br />
<ul>
<li>It is not a shopping cart, it is a BUGGY! --totally true and especially funny when you hear mothers yelling at their kids to, "mind the buggy now.".</li>
<li>If it grows, it'll stick ya. If it crawls, it'll bite cha. --hoping this doesn't happen anytime soon.</li>
<li>Onced and Twiced are words.</li>
<li>Fixinto is one word. It means, "I'm going to do that." -- example I hear: "I'm fixinto go to the store." love it. </li>
<li>Iced Tea is appropriate for all meals, and you start drinkin' it when you're two. --so true. though here, it's all about Sweet Tea. one day i was shopping in Wal-Mart (classy right?) and a group of college guys were all discussing the menu for a party they were having that night: "....ok, we got chicken, we got salad, we got beans...did somebody get the Sweet Tea?" "yep, right here." i don't know about you, but hearing these college guys worry about whether or not they got enough Sweet Tea was just hilarious. gotta have that Sweet Tea, and you better believe it is found in every restaurant, fast food joint, party and mechanic shop lobby around town. the only place it isn't found is among us mormons! :) we tend to stick to root beer which no restaurant carries.</li>
<li>Y'all is singular and All Y'all is plural. </li>
<li>Fried catfish is the other white meat. --tasty. not scary.</li>
</ul>
and some that we've personally heard around town:<br />
<ul>
<li> It's not pronounced mirror. It's pronounced mirra. --that cute charlotte again.</li>
<li>That don't mean a hill o' beans. --scott's boss said that to him.</li>
<li>Well, he's a big 'un. --brother butler at church referring to jake.</li>
<li>Can I have the fa-Gi-tas?" --mexican food names are downright impossible to say here. </li>
<li>and......I tell you what. --this proceeds every declaration, opinion, story, etc. you name it.</li>
</ul>
again, never in my wildest dreams did i imagine cookeville, tennessee as my place of address. but we enjoy it.<br />
and i tell you what... <br />
<br />Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-74659474850168985392012-04-23T18:34:00.003-04:002012-04-23T18:35:58.432-04:00A PAJAMA WEEKa pajama day is fun. a pajama week...not so much. we've been sick. and it's the first time jake has ever been sick-sick, not just teething-sick, but stuffy-nose-runny-nose-puffy-eyes-fever-cranky-clingy-sick. poor guy sounds like Darth Vader and can barely breathe while drinking a ba-ba. and i've tried using the booger sucker, but it makes me fearful that Child Services are gonna come a-knockin' because of neighborhood complaints that they hear a child being tortured. seriously, why do babies hate that thing so much??<br />
<br />
so we've watched a lot of tv and movies. and done hardly anything. just sat and stared. literally nothing. i may go crazy soon. and the never-ending handfuls of pistachios aren't helping. i'm going nutty.<br />
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</div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-57800329026428237872012-04-17T12:55:00.000-04:002012-04-17T12:55:36.668-04:00i got me the quilting bugit's in my skin. stuck fast like an imaginary tick. shall we call it a quick? (quilt + tick. get it?) well, this quick makes me impatient. yet another meaning! when i get a project going, by golly, i want it done. fast and quick-like. :) (i really love my made up word. ha!) they say quilting is supposed to be a slow process. a slow, magical art form. i simply don't have the patience. i like seeing the fruits of my labors not in a year, but tomorrow. and with quilting i may have met my match. all-nighters won't get a quilt done. it's horrible. it's killing me. i'm like a quilting version of Veruca Salt: "don't care how, i want it NOW!" <br />
<br />
this all began in Livingston, Tennessee. say it with me. not LivinGstOn. but Livin'stEn. and it was at Charlotte's house (a fellow young women's leader.) she fed me homemade soup and rolls and gushed over jake like he was another one of her grandbabies (which are all girls.) on the couch lay her quilting hoop and a beautiful quilt. i asked about it. she showed me many of the quilts she'd made.<br />
<br />
"And this one I've been working on for about 7 years," she said. i about died. she must be the Mother Teresa of patience. i simply don't understand it. it horrified and fascinated me all at once. she is a marvel.<br />
<br />
and so she is to blame (lovingly, of course) for this "quick" of mine. i had decided to make a quilt for Jake for Easter. i had visions of grandeur in my head as i walked into the quilt shop and asked the dear, sweet owner to help me match some fabrics to a picture i had found online.<br />
<br />
"do you have a pattern for this quilt?" she asked looking at me hard behind her spectacles. (i want glasses.)<br />
<br />
"no......?"<br />
<br />
"oh honey," she said. crap. "you'd be setting yourself up for failure."<br />
<br />
"...."<br />
<br />
i didn't say anything to that because half of me was devastated i couldn't make this quilt i loved and the other half of me was totally offended! she doesn't know the mad skills i have! (and by skills, i mean i'm a total beginner. i have no clue what i'm doing. but if impatience was a skill i would be unbelievable.) <br />
<br />
so she steered this doe-eyed quilt dreamer towards the quilt patterns and showed me the ones that would help me "succeed" at quilting. i hated them. she may as well have just said, "you're too little to go on the big ride. why don't you go sit on the see-saw." i hate being told what to do and that i can't do something. i <i>hate</i> that. <br />
<br />
but as she talked and showed me a sample quilt made from one of the "i'm a baby quilter" patterns, i began to lighten up and realize-- dang it-- she was probably right. so with a pattern, some fabrics and a harsh dose of reality i left the shop.<br />
<br />
and i finished the quilt by Easter. and nestled it by his basket. and i am pretty pleased. first quilt ever, and i think i did a pretty darn good job. it took me about a month. from the ironing to the measuring to the re-measuring to the cutting to the piecing to the sewing to the ironing to the re-ironing since jake would crawl all over it, to the pinning, more cutting, more sewing, more measuring, and a heapful of impatience and quilting mental madness where i wouldn't eat for hours and my hands would start to shake (very reminiscent of finals time at BYU-Idaho)........ sigh........breath......i finished. and may or may not have brought it to church to show it to Charlotte. <br />
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they were right. it is a PROCESS. and i think it's supposed to be slow to ward off the hysterics and mental breakdowns. you live and learn. but i love the quilt. i love that i made it for my Jake. and maybe he'll carry it with him wherever he goes. maybe he'll take it with him on his mission and to college. maybe he'll wrap his own babies in it and my posterity will hug it and say, "great-great grandmother Cristine made this. isn't it precious."<br />
<br />
ha. hopefully. maybe. it's a dream. but for some reason i'm thinking Jake will <i>not</i> want a baby quilt on his dorm room bed when he's 19 years old. go figure right? whatever, i'm totally stuffing that quilt in his suitcase.<br />
<br />
and maybe he'll get the "quick" too. my little Jake a quilter. ha. wow. someone quick, get my kid a basketball. Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-16384296530874782372012-04-14T20:17:00.002-04:002012-04-14T20:19:30.333-04:00jake's a talker<span style="font-size: large;">and a babbler, and a screecher, and a squeaker.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and quite the delectable lil' dude. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">i suspect he may have been a </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="fn">Pterodactyl</span> in a previous life. (and who knew pterodactyl started with a "p"?!)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">*oh and please ignore my paint-chipped mom toes.*</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/30cXCe2KdEA" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yG_8U042VuM" width="560"></iframe></div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-69163291680004395192012-04-13T17:54:00.004-04:002012-04-13T17:57:45.084-04:00my boys are cuddlerssometimes i think i don't write enough about my better half. he's not home with us during the day, but he <i>is</i> at work, slaving away, bringing home the bacon, so that i can be a stay-at-home mom. he is one in a million. and jake adores him. in fact, scott is his new favorite cuddle buddy. which scott loves! let's just say i love me some space at night and to have the cold spots in the bed all to myself. so finally having a cuddle buddy, even if it starts at 6 am every morning, is a dream come true for scott. he lays there as jake tugs on his ears, slaps his face, rests his hands on his arm in a tender little hug, and even lays there patiently and calmly when jake sneezes loud and wet right on his face.<br />
<br />
they're just two peas in a pod. two bugs in a rug.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwL8wYdNMyOF-S7TiZaWthkePwnNDgn1uyPkTT_lOTtFYM4hL1KmL17aHKsO43MwDrVeOLeYrO-8AeHtM4NrMBVq-9lUe1Fyc_kQ4f9ztD1Td5xOBFRJt7W3YgIzeYgJx-YVaGKuj0tWZ/s1600/CUDDLES" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwL8wYdNMyOF-S7TiZaWthkePwnNDgn1uyPkTT_lOTtFYM4hL1KmL17aHKsO43MwDrVeOLeYrO-8AeHtM4NrMBVq-9lUe1Fyc_kQ4f9ztD1Td5xOBFRJt7W3YgIzeYgJx-YVaGKuj0tWZ/s640/CUDDLES" width="640" /></a></div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-65925499557041590922012-04-12T12:48:00.000-04:002012-04-12T12:48:41.355-04:00I DON'T WANT TO GO TO GIRLS CAMP ANYMOREno. i don't. one word: chiggers. one more word: ticks. i was looking forward to girls camp, wholeheartedly. i was looking forward to hanging with my beehives, snipe hunting, s'more eating, wreaking havoc with all sorts of good-natured pranks. that was the dream. cue first aid certification last night at mutual. then talk of insect bites. then horrific panic inside my head. no, no, no, no, no. i was the only one who didn't know what chiggers were. cue, "sister garrison, you've never had chiggers!?" what the heck is a chigger!? it sounded like scabies, which i don't really know what that is either but it sounds undesirable...and scary. maybe they're actually spelled scaries? anyways, my beehives dive into stories of never-ending itchiness, swelling, redness and tales of horror and woe that lasts for weeks that i don't even want to remember. i was about to wave it off. you know, beehives and their enthusiastic stories. but then my fellow leaders chime in. "yeah, they're <i>horrible</i>. worst thing ever." perfect. just fantastic actually. i was queasy listening to how to stop a wound from gushing blood at camp, now i'm totally freaked. "so how do i avoid these chiggers?" i ask. response, "you can't sister garrison. they're invisible." and they're not kidding. they sound like something voldemort would use. i don't think i have what it takes to be a cabin mom. i don't do blood. i don't do chiggers. i do s'mores. that's it. and so i rounded up my beehives and told them we would assign chigger and tick buddies. and all of them are my buddy. they get to check me over every time we come back to the cabin and get the chiggers off. oh wait, they're freakin' <i>invisible</i>! that's it. i'm going to die. killed by itchy, invisible chiggers. that's what my tombstone will read. and they'll bury me at girl's camp using their 1st year camping skills--so my grave will be shallow--and i'll be eaten even further into death by more chiggers, then wolves. it's morbid. why did i ever say i would go!<br />
<br />
oh at the end of the certification last night,"you do know, sister garrison, they're aren't chiggers at camp. they're only found in tall grass and camp's mostly dirt and gravel."<br />
<br />
beehives.<br />
<br />
kumbaya, my lord. kumbaya.Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-80475502334678806722012-04-11T11:14:00.000-04:002012-04-11T11:14:24.998-04:00foodie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy2STW4xqWKLgP23zMrgCeAdveh87jdCVzftdaxHVEAdoZgs86qhYJWXaCmCTqK7qpT3qW_AXOo7LRzRUWrHKKCuNTJRYT0f6JESOap96jv7aMotuYnj_hxNjvs8lR2ExpMQKzwNnMHQO/s1600/eating1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy2STW4xqWKLgP23zMrgCeAdveh87jdCVzftdaxHVEAdoZgs86qhYJWXaCmCTqK7qpT3qW_AXOo7LRzRUWrHKKCuNTJRYT0f6JESOap96jv7aMotuYnj_hxNjvs8lR2ExpMQKzwNnMHQO/s1600/eating1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">i love those sticky crumbs on his curled, little fingers</div><div style="text-align: center;">and the squishy, chubby rolls at his armpits.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">i love his small, sweet, puckered mouth </div><div style="text-align: center;">and the six teeth that relish those bread bits.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-58871273689482027392012-04-10T20:01:00.002-04:002012-04-10T20:03:41.596-04:009 monthsdid i mention jake is 9 months! and there's so much to say about all that he is into/doing/learning that it makes my fingers hurt. so here's the gist (if you want a full read-out of every teensy tiny detail than i can xerox a copy of his baby book :): still twirling those pigs of his (mostly when he's excited or wants something cool that you have in your hand), crawling, feeding himself cheerios, following the cat, always wanting to pick off dust bunnies from the broom (ick), going nuts when his blue ball bounces, in size 18-24 months (he's a big 'un), six teeth, pinchy fingers, more blonde hair, chubby toes, squawks like a bird repeatedly, been bopped on the head by the broom handle, bumps head several times a day, kneels against the crib waiting for me to come get him, plays a peek-a-boo with me, eats table food, mesmerized by Tangled, hates diaper changes, waves his pointer finger at things which means "no-no."<br />
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he totally cracks me up. especially with the finger pointing. yesterday at church I was talking to a friend and I said to Jake, "Say hi to Mandi." and he proceeded to shake his pointer finger at her. i think he's morphed "hi" and "no-no" together. which is probably my fault because whenever he bumps his head or gets hurt by something, i take/point at the item and wave my pointer finger at it saying, " No-no coffee table. Don't you hurt our Jakey's head!" he loves it. he'll just grin and grin at me. so i think i'm the instigator.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvl7_4c3xFrSm3B1sG8cJqbhd_pOf57h4JTxjm9mN8S1_WHSWdhXXW-mdsIpJgktdIhyphenhyphenCqtsSgTY8eut5oC-OPcxvCC9h4boMAGnSY0hUOXPFAWUgIFSc5T_jqOwIsMAvrf0bZoPhNb6r/s1600/P1011528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvl7_4c3xFrSm3B1sG8cJqbhd_pOf57h4JTxjm9mN8S1_WHSWdhXXW-mdsIpJgktdIhyphenhyphenCqtsSgTY8eut5oC-OPcxvCC9h4boMAGnSY0hUOXPFAWUgIFSc5T_jqOwIsMAvrf0bZoPhNb6r/s1600/P1011528.JPG" /></a></div>oh and one last thing. if anything else has developed by leaps and bounds the past month or so, it's the personality. let me be more specific. it's that darn <i>independent spirit</i> part of his personality. wow. you know, the one they get when they've realized they're mobile. now that he knows he can get from point A to point B whenever he likes, by golly there is no stopping him unless you want a writhing, back-arching, screeching, whirling dervish on your lap. he's worse than the cat. and it's pretty darn hilarious. for now.Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-75271882081425652092012-04-09T11:36:00.004-04:002012-04-09T11:40:49.260-04:00general conference april 2012jake loves general conference. scott loves general conference. i love general conference. nothing better than pajama church, naps on the couch between sessions, snacks, and sacred family time listening to the prophet's words.<br />
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<b>some of my favorite talks this general conference were by:</b><br />
--Jeffrey R. Holland, Robert D. Hales, Donald L. Hallstrom, Larry Y. Wilson. Neil L. Anderson, M. Russell Ballard & of course, Thomas S. Monson.<br />
<br />
<b>some of my favorite quotes/teachings/words (i may be paraphrasing here):</b><br />
--"Follow the 13th article of faith. Be optimistic. Have sunshine in your heart." --Thomas S.Monson<br />
-- "The ultimate end of all activity in the church is to see a husband and his wife and their children <i>happy at home</i>, protected by the principles and laws of the gospel, sealed safely in the covenant of the everlasting priesthood." --Boyd K. Packer<br />
-- "Teach your children the doctrine. Teach them <i>to understand</i>. Get it into their hearts." --Cheryl A. Esplin<br />
-- "It is possible to be active in the church and inactive in the gospel." -- Donald L. Hallstrom<br />
-- "Do not be envious when someone else receives a blessing. Envy is a mistake that keeps on giving. Why eat a quart of pickle juice every time someone around you has a happy moment? (hah) Don't dwell on old issues. We cling too much to trivial issues. God thrills in being merciful. You are never too far from divine love." -- Jeffrey R. Holland (my favorite talk from conference. amazing.)<br />
-- "Come to yourself." & "It is difficult for youth to understand how present decisions affect them eternally--help them become spiritually and temporally self-reliant." --Robert D. Hales<br />
-- "Wise parents must weigh when children are capable of choosing wise decisions--don't do it all for them. Wise parents prepare their children to get along without them. Let them have spiritual responsibility. Let them make choices--even if they are wrong. Teach them how to establish their own connection with heaven. Let your children feel that you have confidence in them." --Larry Y. Wilson<br />
-- "Write your children letters." -- David F. Evans<br />
-- "Recognize, remember and hold sacred that light you receive." --Paul B. Pieper<br />
-- "What thinks Christ of me?" & "<i>Discipleship is not a competition</i>." -- Neil L. Anderson<br />
-- "A perfect body is not required to achieve your divine potential." -- Russell M. Nelson<br />
-- "Stop it!" & "Don't judge me because i sin differently than you." -- Dieter F. Uchtdorf<br />
-- "Don't live in spiritual rags, trade your rags for robes." -- Julie B. Beck<br />
-- "Eternal truths see us home. Lay up treasures in heaven." -- Thomas S. Monson<br />
-- "There is no greater service than the home reformed into a divine place." & "Do things in the right order: marriage first, family second." & "The most important cause of our lifetimes is our families." -- M. Russell Ballard<br />
-- "May your homes be filled with love, courtesy, and the spirit." -- Thomas S. Monson<br />
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for me, the theme of conference was two-fold: let your families be your treasure & let go of envy, contention and unrighteous judgements. i am always amazed by the words and the whisperings of the spirit that come as i watch conference, and am so grateful for the answers they bring in response to my inner thoughts and prayers. i am grateful for continued revelation and for modern-day prophets and apostles. As in Biblical times, God still speaks to man!Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-50686732581446378582012-04-09T11:36:00.003-04:002012-04-09T11:39:31.079-04:00a midnight premiere, mother hens & a rockercalifornia is always a smorgasbord of fun. lina and i went to the midnight premiere of The Hunger Games, complete with camping out in the bitter cold, shivering under a blanket eating pizza on the corner of McBean and Magic Mountain Pkwy. good times. but never again. i'm not cut out for midnight premieres anymore sadly. staying up til 3:30 am messed me up for the next several days. i was a zombie. but hanging out with Lina--who is such a fun, caring, hilarious, beautiful little sister--was wonderful. good sisterly bonding.<br />
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jake's every whim was cared to by his "little mother hens" aka the girl cousins. i think he was totally digging all the attention. such a ladies man :)<br />
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and the icing on the cake: jake proved he bleeds blue and sat smiling in his totally legit Dodgers rocker that the grandparents got him. my dad is so proud and is itching to take him to a game and feed him Dodger dogs.<br />
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a million other little memories and moments always make up our trips to california: shopping for lina's prom dress in the Fashion District, visiting jake's grandma and grandpa great at the temple, going out to lunch with Aunt Heather, Lora's baby shower, being with family on Sunday, talking, shopping, eating, crawling, crawling, crawling. always a good time. see you in May california!Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-44758536258292079382012-04-05T17:15:00.001-04:002012-04-05T17:17:05.307-04:00oh disneylandoh disneyland. you did not disappoint. especially when it came to wigging jake out a bit. he was bright eyed and captivated wherever we went and i swear, he did not move a single muscle during the entire show at the Golden Horseshoe. he was completely riveted in what was going on around him. and he only cried when the scary and loud bank robber bursted through the crowd outside the theatre (so says my mom and dad). he was a trooper all day and didn't even make a peep when he awoke from his nap on Pirates of the Caribbean to the sqwauky noises of "dead men tell no tales!" yep, a total trooper. he was rewarded with churros and a mickey mouse hat. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">quote of the day award goes to jake's auntie lina: "I used to make hot dogs."</div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-57417030227022126932012-03-14T10:29:00.001-04:002012-03-14T10:30:25.955-04:00outside<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9ztPpkSnCXlJJxtNSinU-l0YM4Oa66s4JEIQwGk8BZRBbqUFxXpmkFj6oVwZRHqULAfmj7qVP51eyBaj7kkd7wVY-Ia-JPwRMTil8L3xgOupN6e_5K9PHnY4yZ64oTEmytX0NjftMY3r/s1600/P1011402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9ztPpkSnCXlJJxtNSinU-l0YM4Oa66s4JEIQwGk8BZRBbqUFxXpmkFj6oVwZRHqULAfmj7qVP51eyBaj7kkd7wVY-Ia-JPwRMTil8L3xgOupN6e_5K9PHnY4yZ64oTEmytX0NjftMY3r/s1600/P1011402.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHa9TMlEFIYHHvyeToNul_chDyFCHJkttsnKPwPHx9WQjyo4Vi02b_ma8ZgakEeZeQF-3Inafa6d72Gc4rmydKZVmvl02B_jHHWf4b8WJWyPMMvbTjXAbrZLAwmouyDhJSGc_lMdWjcMXI/s1600/P1011417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHa9TMlEFIYHHvyeToNul_chDyFCHJkttsnKPwPHx9WQjyo4Vi02b_ma8ZgakEeZeQF-3Inafa6d72Gc4rmydKZVmvl02B_jHHWf4b8WJWyPMMvbTjXAbrZLAwmouyDhJSGc_lMdWjcMXI/s1600/P1011417.JPG" /></a></div><i>it's fun to eat grass. </i>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-85604012852828622432012-03-13T19:22:00.001-04:002012-03-13T19:25:33.375-04:008 months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhZRswgpJzWuZcmL1jmQC6AZZv8_LPcKbgH5nj_VgWtPN8QSPL_K-Vg-nOBNoqueEKPD040BIgfFBImbwkxP9YzpP7WoEjfY_zNkSmzOr_xQKPvMi8Js2aBflphOtXz-k33dD_enV11FZM/s1600/8+months+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhZRswgpJzWuZcmL1jmQC6AZZv8_LPcKbgH5nj_VgWtPN8QSPL_K-Vg-nOBNoqueEKPD040BIgfFBImbwkxP9YzpP7WoEjfY_zNkSmzOr_xQKPvMi8Js2aBflphOtXz-k33dD_enV11FZM/s1600/8+months+1.jpg" /></a></div>8 months old and still a jolly old soul. he's squirming and arching and going red in the head these days with all the personality that is bursting out of that cute bod of his. he is so close to crawling. though he <i>has</i> perfected the backwards crawl. he just needs to switch gears so he doesn't have to ninja side somersault to get where he wants to go.<br />
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and he's already into everything: chewing on computer chords, finding bits of paper on the floor, grabbing the cat's tail, rolling off the bed. yes sir. jay-bird is on the move. and feisty. oh so feisty. he had his first breakdown in Pueblo Viejo the other night. you know...that shrill and out of nowhere, tantrum scream that only comes from losing a beloved straw to the fake terracotta depths below. scott and i just looked at each other telepathically communicating: <i>was that <b>our</b> son!? so <b>this </b>is why people usually bypass bringing their kids to restaurants. ah. </i>and it will just get better.<i> </i>maybe jacob will even follow in his cousin Charlie's footsteps and ralph in a Red Lobster one day. ah, what exciting memories will be made.<br />
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but for now, we relish the simple, non-dramatic moments of simply being best buds and hanging out all day. today, for example, was gorgeous. the warmest its been so far. spring, glorious spring. jacob slobbered on the windows in his excitement then ate some grass just to digest the wonderful sunshiny-ness of it all. i don't think it tasted very good. but our mini picnic was fabulous nonetheless. i love his intense curiosity and furrowed brow as he examines the world around him then giggles in approval. he's the best. and getting too big too fast.<br />
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<i>i'm seriously going to have to beat the girls off with a stick. this smirk cannot be ignored. <br />
</i>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-9524666471662284222012-03-09T16:48:00.001-05:002012-03-09T16:52:56.282-05:00treehouse<div style="text-align: justify;">we ain't got much by way of entertainment around these parts, but what we do have is the world's largest treehouse. or should i say the world's sketchiest treehouse? how about creepiest? craziest? religious-ist?<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">whatever adjective you choose, it was also pretty cool. i mean, who does this kind of thing? (answer: a minister who believes he was told to build it by God. hence the crosses, pews, nativity, and twelve disciple all made out of wood. craaaazzzzy.) but hey. it was free.99 to go and visit and it did lead us to an awesome fudge shop. </div><br />
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and no church treehouse is complete without a basketball hoop above a cross.<br />
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you see that tippy top belltower? scott climbed into that. literally. and wow, up on the 8th story with scott inside that sketchy tower, i really felt the whole treehouse shaking and swaying. i doubt it passes any building codes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8j4KTlIXxToOBAMxahay2spXhcybFqGHYArfK3j8Xk5dDDVScV2iL9EHIWFNZxtBrp3VATmIIsc2wcMNwGrfJpzuCv4EUOy0-fSc4gHDkpUls2Stp76wT1uTyLr2OzlKmjLzkKn5BRxk/s1600/photo%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8j4KTlIXxToOBAMxahay2spXhcybFqGHYArfK3j8Xk5dDDVScV2iL9EHIWFNZxtBrp3VATmIIsc2wcMNwGrfJpzuCv4EUOy0-fSc4gHDkpUls2Stp76wT1uTyLr2OzlKmjLzkKn5BRxk/s1600/photo%25282%2529.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9bv60-xjOdAKC2quo-bWD9v4fzRGNwSeLaaw9BHEsrhrpxYnimJhqvWqhnd0pIg8wKFm_I6IfpSG-W7Ei_j9hNIoG__E5tsSROGA73iL4s2_7PL61B731DQSfOKhOZ-e3FfB5hfLrDNg/s1600/photo%252811%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9bv60-xjOdAKC2quo-bWD9v4fzRGNwSeLaaw9BHEsrhrpxYnimJhqvWqhnd0pIg8wKFm_I6IfpSG-W7Ei_j9hNIoG__E5tsSROGA73iL4s2_7PL61B731DQSfOKhOZ-e3FfB5hfLrDNg/s1600/photo%252811%2529.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">proof that we are in god's country now: the good ol' south. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQ_Bg607THNqVVbOoJ_ugBX05TiXg0rYgv-ZtMmqMJWCE5-XcnEJ0jSz6AQXTBgn7r8vqy6tRNWTQHrg9QJwj5BMIku43byOMKgPHhBPmRn5o2uhl6MaGkwnUcw8os0znwCiBP3Rlett-/s1600/photo%25284%2529.JPG" /></div><br />
how scary would this place be as a Haunted House? BYU-I people: it could be the Haunted Mill's cousin: the Haunted Treehouse. scaaarrrryyy.Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211855320766507657.post-75960585564133108942012-03-08T12:46:00.002-05:002012-03-09T16:54:35.887-05:00chattanooga...fo real<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">zoo, mall, aquarium, tennessee riverwalk, pizza crust. jake did it all. and it left him quite tuckered out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZemuCzg-gh31u2dQdYjDB6yYkg3DMeu5LgrgUkihJxGiCjbGkT3gLqkAJ3mr2_DbYLTMKKgGaquZ1nDFALCXwvMT8hc2dvjVfjU_Ao4J1IqVYtNP6nb3r8uZWhX_5GreyekMIgxBCCtZ3/s1600/photo%252817%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZemuCzg-gh31u2dQdYjDB6yYkg3DMeu5LgrgUkihJxGiCjbGkT3gLqkAJ3mr2_DbYLTMKKgGaquZ1nDFALCXwvMT8hc2dvjVfjU_Ao4J1IqVYtNP6nb3r8uZWhX_5GreyekMIgxBCCtZ3/s1600/photo%252817%2529.JPG" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***i took a zillion pictures over our little trip. i was a little camera-happy. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">might want to grab your eye drops and prepare yourself for an eye-strain.***</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">the aquarium</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGinUy2jmg0PU8cRFWRDsfqcbAYoG9yVYIRJUYjhyphenhyphen-GHVvYMiYYB8zZfcxP_T409v-zqFIOML3vp20wUbWiLADMs54zUfThm7UxOZmTIXojmfmRviIbL_cTs9wBsHq1p3uVSqiASMjlKU/s1600/chattanooga+collage+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGinUy2jmg0PU8cRFWRDsfqcbAYoG9yVYIRJUYjhyphenhyphen-GHVvYMiYYB8zZfcxP_T409v-zqFIOML3vp20wUbWiLADMs54zUfThm7UxOZmTIXojmfmRviIbL_cTs9wBsHq1p3uVSqiASMjlKU/s1600/chattanooga+collage+2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3i0VdxoI2rTClFY45Nrseg7-dLytCFfCm4qp9Jctg7dSCJa0pSFVETsN6PEhI10miNflDWoWReJrxULU1FOwCaylI-dk9TO5Ckk5eYrEwgLP7-EW2LUa0y4ZPO-C_zd4h4GN2P20DetI/s1600/chattanooga+collage+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3i0VdxoI2rTClFY45Nrseg7-dLytCFfCm4qp9Jctg7dSCJa0pSFVETsN6PEhI10miNflDWoWReJrxULU1FOwCaylI-dk9TO5Ckk5eYrEwgLP7-EW2LUa0y4ZPO-C_zd4h4GN2P20DetI/s1600/chattanooga+collage+3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
is it possible to have a spiritual experience looking at japanese sea nettles? i think yes. i may have gotten teary eyed watching those beautiful--and oh so deadly--creatures float around their tanks so gently and gracefully. and i may have screamed like a little kid and persisted to show everyone around me the HUGE--and i mean ginormous here--turtle that arose out of a bed of coral and scared the pants off of me. it swam away into the murky mists and unknown watery realms of the tanks, possibly looking for its lunch...a shark. honestly, it was that big. it totally could have eaten a shark. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the creatures were all gorgeous (or scary--jakey and i no likey giant octopuses. their little suction cup tentacles are honestly terrifying to me. remember <a href="http://scottcristinegarrison.blogspot.com/2010/01/lost-sheep.html">this dream</a> i had? i do. always.)<br />
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jake's expression was pretty much like this the entire time. he totally dug it--especially in the butterfly habitat--but also kept a sharp eye on all the critters while telepathically telling them, <i>"you do your thing in there, and i'll do mine out here, k?"</i></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOJ456-xTqZPU0lFsSImgVJHaBEXJaZND4wzJH8CExW3XlOwDODQ1pkr27-UuwOoZNJFGGZQGIq4PJwXVtvKCSMCN1NsSAhNwRt-rzx9iisTe9rx1LTPNaR0pgF6rxkzqECbw-3eYLTGx/s1600/P1011324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOJ456-xTqZPU0lFsSImgVJHaBEXJaZND4wzJH8CExW3XlOwDODQ1pkr27-UuwOoZNJFGGZQGIq4PJwXVtvKCSMCN1NsSAhNwRt-rzx9iisTe9rx1LTPNaR0pgF6rxkzqECbw-3eYLTGx/s1600/P1011324.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"> the zoo</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nZQY4O0EScj4hP-vIeXpY87PVbTmJiHqBxNr0h7D0SyUH4-s9xAdI407Dj4aZD24A3rH0zcQpuvhfa1TpU-tzPZylIIhUjPr5gSYpRwkYlnyiFGmaVeceY8IU7jXqbjO9fekiCoOzzlt/s1600/chattanooga+collage+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nZQY4O0EScj4hP-vIeXpY87PVbTmJiHqBxNr0h7D0SyUH4-s9xAdI407Dj4aZD24A3rH0zcQpuvhfa1TpU-tzPZylIIhUjPr5gSYpRwkYlnyiFGmaVeceY8IU7jXqbjO9fekiCoOzzlt/s1600/chattanooga+collage+1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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not sure how much he loved the zoo. he liked the prairie dogs and spider monkeys but the sqwuaky, super-loud macaws kind of pushed him to the breaking point. but it was a fun excursion nonetheless.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">down by the river</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGDVtJxuUENy-Vmfpvmg5-hfrGz4wgoVRiRm-_wbMItdVjnR7Ah2B-nWDPcE4Q7oY0NBfpN11J7fg-ccAXTx8NB2Yl5sWQe6Ga-wYeG5OYfNCaq8mpf39ohgkH74v6qSleVO04mULnexb/s1600/chattanooga+collage+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGDVtJxuUENy-Vmfpvmg5-hfrGz4wgoVRiRm-_wbMItdVjnR7Ah2B-nWDPcE4Q7oY0NBfpN11J7fg-ccAXTx8NB2Yl5sWQe6Ga-wYeG5OYfNCaq8mpf39ohgkH74v6qSleVO04mULnexb/s1600/chattanooga+collage+4.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogpFhNJbOfOoLE5Y5Ku86FFybA6D7I6q9A0vW17x3VCgb9I7m2roua-BbvKPuqTfZfFdzPz2l994XUws2G7Mcy1tz5fIYsdzoOrlvy9rZ8OpqHvfKfdIfoidL02_VGZoVN9rgjcIFlBQ2/s1600/chattanooga+collage+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogpFhNJbOfOoLE5Y5Ku86FFybA6D7I6q9A0vW17x3VCgb9I7m2roua-BbvKPuqTfZfFdzPz2l994XUws2G7Mcy1tz5fIYsdzoOrlvy9rZ8OpqHvfKfdIfoidL02_VGZoVN9rgjcIFlBQ2/s1600/chattanooga+collage+5.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">walking around downtown chattanooga was perhaps my favorite part of the trip. i like the whole vibe there. the weather was gorgeous, the breeze was sweet, and the company was ultra-cute. we sat on a bench on the pedestrian bridge and looked out at the tennessee river and i just felt awesome! don't know how to explain but it felt good to be out and about and doing something in the city amid the hustle and bustle and architecture and natural scenery. there were plenty of places to push the stroller around to. we ate at the Mellow Mushroom where jake de-vour-ed some pizza crust. then we strolled up to the Ice Cream Show (not shop) and licked away the chocolate ice cream that melted under the sunshine. it was just...great. really. i wish i could do it everyday. only thing that would have made it better would be having scott there with us (he had a training for work). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">we didn't make it to Rock City which i hear is fabulous. but it is definitely on our to-do list. who knows...maybe a move to chattanooga is in our future... cuz you know...we seem to like to move around a lot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> ta-ta for now chattanooga!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Cristine Garrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13298373379131388903noreply@blogger.com2