<?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-585783054989619660</id><updated>2011-10-10T22:04:21.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alaska</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>104</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3358579128571116446</id><published>2011-01-23T11:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T11:43:50.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunshine</title><content type='html'>An amazing thing has been happening here in San Francisco. We've seen the sun! I wanted to share this miracle with everyone. Because warm (by warm I mean over 60 degrees), sunny days never happen here. And I'm enjoying every second of it. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3358579128571116446?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3358579128571116446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3358579128571116446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3358579128571116446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3358579128571116446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2011/01/sunshine.html' title='Sunshine'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5251694262391430773</id><published>2011-01-10T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T19:59:33.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>Home. I miss it. I miss coming in and kicking off my shoes and just relaxing. I miss being able to leave doors open and have it be warm and quiet. I miss having it be clean all the time. I miss the silence and the solitude and the serenity. I wonder if I'll ever have it back again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5251694262391430773?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5251694262391430773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5251694262391430773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5251694262391430773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5251694262391430773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2011/01/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2161911745532742448</id><published>2011-01-02T18:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T18:56:54.285-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm sitting in the SLC airport waiting for my delayed flight to leave for San Francisco. Since I really don't want Christmas to be over and don't want to go back to SF (although I love the city tons!), I guess I don't really have a choice. I don't want to go back to SF because things have to be different.I need my own apartment. But by April, I should have one, so that will be good. Also, I need to have some friends in SF. Like, real friends, not people I talk to every now and then at church or a party, if there's ever a party. (I miss my friends in Virginia.) The caveat to all of this is that Braden will be there, and that's the one thing I have to look forward to in going back to SF. So, in order to change things up, here are my goals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Financial: &lt;/b&gt;Set up a budget and stick to it. Save. Save. Save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Social: &lt;/b&gt;Be more involved in what's going on in SF and get people together to go do stuff. I'm also going to ask different guys to go do stuff. I need some good guy friends to hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Physical: &lt;/b&gt;Finish Insanity, lead climb more, climb outside more, and run a couple marathons, limit junk food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Spiritual: &lt;/b&gt;Study the life of the Savior and his teachings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Emotional: &lt;/b&gt;Take some classes, read some good books, practice the piano and guitar, keep myself busy with these activities or making friends with the SF people, not give myself time to think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I've made myself accountable to, well, I guess to the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, side note, there are some SERIOUSLY hot guys here at my gate! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2161911745532742448?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2161911745532742448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2161911745532742448' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2161911745532742448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2161911745532742448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2011/01/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-560289709371567777</id><published>2010-04-26T16:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T16:30:12.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another prayer to the Baby Gods</title><content type='html'>Oh no, dear Baby Gods! The crying baby has stopped by our gate. No, dear Baby Gods. Please have mercy on us all - especially the poor mother of the crying baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-560289709371567777?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/560289709371567777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=560289709371567777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/560289709371567777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/560289709371567777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2010/04/another-prayer-to-baby-gods.html' title='Another prayer to the Baby Gods'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-6568082827549457885</id><published>2010-04-26T16:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T16:29:07.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A prayer to the baby gods</title><content type='html'>Please, please dear Baby Gods. PLEASE don't let the screaming baby be on our flight! PLEASE!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-6568082827549457885?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/6568082827549457885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=6568082827549457885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6568082827549457885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6568082827549457885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2010/04/prayer-to-baby-gods.html' title='A prayer to the baby gods'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2128861357046558181</id><published>2010-04-26T16:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T16:28:21.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gum</title><content type='html'>Doggone it. I forgot to buy gum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2128861357046558181?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2128861357046558181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2128861357046558181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2128861357046558181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2128861357046558181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2010/04/gum.html' title='Gum'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-735792187546837564</id><published>2010-04-26T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T16:26:56.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airports</title><content type='html'>I love airports. I don't love bathroom doors that swing inward when you have luggage with you 'cause then it's really hard to get in and out of the stall. Well, more out than in, I guess. But I still love airports. Mostly because I love flying and being in an airport means I'm going somewhere cool. I also want to get my pilot's license. I hear it's very expensive. But wouldn't that be cool?! I think I need to make it happen. At least, I need to find out what it takes. In completely unrelated news, I'm discovering the wonderful, blissful joy of communication. Of resolving things. Of handling your business. The problem is, I'll let something build up and not say anything and it makes me super tired and then I finally break down and say something, and then I feel way better. And totally exhausted! Like I just want to lie down on the nasty floor I'm sitting on and sleep. When the stress starts to dissipate, I realize just how truly tired I am. Then I realize why I had such a hard time with my long run. Not that a long run is easy, anyway. But it doesn't need to be harder. So, now that I've communicated and promised to find an answer to my concern, I wonder what the response will be. Hmmm...well, I have three days to figure it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-735792187546837564?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/735792187546837564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=735792187546837564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/735792187546837564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/735792187546837564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2010/04/airports.html' title='Airports'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2033102558186155305</id><published>2010-04-20T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T20:24:44.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A quiet evening at home</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting at home waiting for the dishwasher to finish washing the dishes. I hope it actually cleans them this time. This is the second round with the new dishwasher. I think the problem is that the hot water in this house runs out after about fifteen minutes. Which totally messes up my long, relaxing showers. :( I'm also waiting for the dishwasher to finish so I can wash the cake pan so I can make a cake. I'm going to make a cake because I have a ton of leftover frosting. And I need something to put it on so I won't eat it all. ha ha - I've always said it, the cake is just there for the frosting. I also want to climb and Steve is in Arizona and I wish he were here because I didn't realize how much climbing relaxes me. I love it! But I can't climb without my belayer. :( Steve, hurry up and come home! In totally unrelated news, my walls are totally bare and I need to hang up some pictures. But I don't know what pictures I want to hang up. Well, I guess I'll go work out so I can go to bed early. I can't wait for Thursday afternoon to get here! I just have to get through Wednesday and Thursday morning. I can do it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2033102558186155305?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2033102558186155305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2033102558186155305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2033102558186155305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2033102558186155305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2010/04/quiet-evening-at-home.html' title='A quiet evening at home'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-9046093939139097401</id><published>2009-12-22T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:49:10.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>M&amp;Ms are good</title><content type='html'>Remember how I brought the bag of mint M&amp;amp;Ms into work so I wouldn't eat them all by myself? Remember how I'm the only one eating them? And it's not even 10:00 in the morning? Do I have absolutely no self control whatsoever?? I think we all know that the answer to that is a resounding no. I have no self control. Sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-9046093939139097401?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/9046093939139097401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=9046093939139097401' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9046093939139097401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9046093939139097401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/12/m-are-good.html' title='M&amp;Ms are good'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1718822679893880923</id><published>2009-12-02T21:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T21:55:02.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>McDonalds</title><content type='html'>I'm so tired that even McDonalds food sounds good. SOMEONE SAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1718822679893880923?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1718822679893880923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1718822679893880923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1718822679893880923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1718822679893880923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/12/mcdonalds.html' title='McDonalds'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4640789397365822654</id><published>2009-12-02T21:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T21:54:30.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still midnight</title><content type='html'>I can no longer take responsibility for what is posted on this blog since I am way super over tired. I'm really lucky that I've had such amazingly cool people to work with while I've been in DC. I thought it was going to be horrible. I thought I was going to hate it. But it's been okay. I wish I could have traveled more, but other than that, and one unexpected, unwanted boy problem, it's been a good experience. Speaking of boy problems, and I have to admit that this problem seems bigger than it is because I'm so tired, but what do you do with a super cute boy that you really like that you can't have because it would be a bad idea but you'll probably end up working with at some point in the future and you don't want to see because then you'll just be reminded of how much you like him. What to do ... what to doooo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I spend $1200 a month for a two bedroom, one bath house that is really old but would be my own and I need the extra, empty bedroom? Is it worth it? I really don't want to have to live with girls anymore. Yes, I know "live with boys." Yeah, 'cause my parents would be THRILLED about that! And no, getting married isn't an option. Hellooo...I'd have to give up my super cool job! Why in heavens name would I want to do that?! But $1200 is so much money! That money should be going into a savings account. Hmmm...I guess I'll have to think this through a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I don't have anything else to write about, unless I write about super cute awesome boy that I can't have, but that's kind of pointless, so I won't. So, I guess I'll sign off and decide what I want to do about this housing situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4640789397365822654?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4640789397365822654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4640789397365822654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4640789397365822654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4640789397365822654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/12/still-midnight.html' title='Still midnight'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2805646013189404241</id><published>2009-11-30T00:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T02:19:07.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work</title><content type='html'>It's five o'clock in the morning. I'm not awake by choice. I'm awake by requirement. So, now I'm looking for ways to entertain myself. I was laughing a few minutes ago to myself thinking of the wardrobe ... hold on - now I'm laughing because I heard Paula Dean got hit in the face with a ham during one of her shows. To quote the guy sitting next to me, "You just can't write that stuff." Anyway, since I'm pretty sure no one actually reads this, I'm going to share my wardrobe emergency from this evening. I was wearing a dark blue shirt all day and when I grabbed my suit to change into later in the evening, I grabbed a pink shirt to go with it. Well, I was wearing a certain dark article of clothing that showed up brilliantly underneath my pink shirt. Thanks to a friend with a white undershirt, disaster and embarrassment were averted. PHEW!! I don't think I would have lived that down. I'm working with all men this evening. (Have I mentioned how much I LOVE my new job??!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hardest thing about working all night is that when the cleaning staff at the hotel comes around to clean the rooms, I'm sleeping. And I don't want to be woken up so I can get fresh towels. Except I want fresh towels. Or at least I want someone else to hang up my dirty towels. I have such a hard life. I hope they have nice, fresh fruit cut up for me for breakfast. I don't want to have to eat unripe fruit for breakfast. :-) (No, I'm not actually such a diva. I just like to make fun of myself when I complain about stupid things like having to hang up my own towels.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Christmastime! Christmas lights are going up everywhere! I've been listening to nothing but Christmas carols since Friday. I LOVE Christmastime! It's my favorite time of the year! I can't wait to get back and decorate for Christmas. Oh wait, except that I found out that my roommate is moving back to Utah so either I have to move or I have to find someone new to live in the house. Ugh. I don't really want to do either. Maybe I should just move into my own apartment. Sigh...I don't know what to do. I'm tempted to move out of the house because I think it has a mold problem. Ever since I moved in, I've had a sore throat. The day - and I mean literally the DAY - I left to come to DC, I haven't had a sore throat since. (Well, except for Thursday and Friday, but they don't count because I think I was fighting a cold.) So I guess I can go back to finding housing but I just fought this fight and I don't know that I want to fight it again. Plus, I won't have movers so I'll have to move everything myself. I don't want to repack. I just unpacked a few weeks ago! Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just rambling so I'm going to end this before the filter really doesn't kick in and I totally embarrass myself. Night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2805646013189404241?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2805646013189404241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2805646013189404241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2805646013189404241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2805646013189404241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/11/work.html' title='Work'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5075153857219743350</id><published>2009-11-17T04:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T04:34:20.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>San Francisco</title><content type='html'>Ahem. I'm back. Somehow, I have failed to blog in six months. And so much has happened. I graduated and started a new, awesome job that I love. I ran the Nike Women's Marathon in 3 hours 56 minutes 27 seconds. Could I, maybe, just possibly, qualify for Boston someday?? Maybe!!! I can't wait to do another race! This week is my first week back from recovering from the race. I've been running but I can run my full mileage now. I've also moved from Idaho to Virginia to San Francisco. SF is a super cool city. I've been there since the end of August and I've been gone almost every weekend so I haven't really gotten to explore the city yet but hopefully I will. I'm actually not even in SF right now. I'm back in Virginia until December 5. I just got back from Singapore, which was AWESOME!! Now I get to spend a couple weeks in Virginia before I get to travel again and then its back to San Francisco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5075153857219743350?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5075153857219743350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5075153857219743350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5075153857219743350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5075153857219743350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/11/san-francisco.html' title='San Francisco'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-6202724357254271936</id><published>2009-05-07T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T14:00:47.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, DUH!</title><content type='html'>How COULD I forget to mention that Anne and I got into the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco in October. A girl was telling me that they have chocolate fountains and pedicures and all sorts of fun, girly stuff set up. I don't think I'll be doing this race for time but I'll definitely be doing it for fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking through some of my older posts. I blogged that I started training for the National Marathon. Well I ran it on March 21 and I shaved 37 minutes off my first marathon time. Yippee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-6202724357254271936?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/6202724357254271936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=6202724357254271936' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6202724357254271936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6202724357254271936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/05/oh-duh.html' title='Oh, DUH!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-6890516190599148954</id><published>2009-05-07T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T13:42:50.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bored</title><content type='html'>I eat junk food when I'm bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-6890516190599148954?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/6890516190599148954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=6890516190599148954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6890516190599148954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6890516190599148954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-bored.html' title='I&apos;m bored'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5430580041358791185</id><published>2009-05-07T13:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T13:39:31.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pedicures are the bomb</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Aren't my feet cute? Okay, why is this underlined? Annoying! Well, this will be a short post because I can't figure out how to make my text not be underlined anymore. In an unrelated story, I really need to get on the flight to Boise because there's a chocolate shop in this airport and I can't stop thinking about it! Anyway, how cute is the toe ring and anklet? Super cute! And my toes are pink, but you can't tell that from the picture. And I love them! And they're still pink! And they were pink for my courtroom testimony class. But no one said anything so I guess it didn't matter that my toenails (no, not my toes) are pink. I really needed a pedicure and my only question is, why in the world didn't I go get one sooner!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SgNF7KAurSI/AAAAAAAABhA/H_UAC9g62TI/s1600-h/My+Pedicured+Feet+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SgNF7KAurSI/AAAAAAAABhA/H_UAC9g62TI/s320/My+Pedicured+Feet+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333183266338811170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5430580041358791185?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5430580041358791185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5430580041358791185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5430580041358791185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5430580041358791185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/05/pedicures-are-bomb.html' title='Pedicures are the bomb'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SgNF7KAurSI/AAAAAAAABhA/H_UAC9g62TI/s72-c/My+Pedicured+Feet+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7654802591127576769</id><published>2009-05-07T13:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T13:26:54.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping in an airport</title><content type='html'>First, I would like to say how happy I am I broke down and bought the aircard. Salvation!!! If it wasn't for the aircard, instead of sitting on this cold, hard floor checking my email and catching up on stuff I need to get done, I'd be sitting on this cold, hard floor watching a movie or reading a book. It's freakin' expensive but it's totally worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I was in need of some items when I got to the airport here in Seattle. *Guys, you might want to stop reading here.* So, I go into a Hudson's News Stand Whatever to grab some important girl items and as I reach down to grab them, I knock over a whole stack of tampon boxes, which make a terrific crash as they tumble to the floor. Of course, I had to restack them all. Since no one was there to laugh with me and witness my humiliation, I thought I would go ahead and share it with the world. Because, I do in fact have absolutely no shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Okay, guys, you can start reading again.* I love Seattle. It's a great city. I love the Seattle airport. Not because it's a great airport, but because when I fly through here I'm either flying home to see my family or I'm flying to Alaska, one of my favorite places in the world. Speaking of Alaska :-) I ran into two tour directors on their way up to Anchorage. Can I just mention for the hundred millionth time how much I miss Alaska and how much I wish I were going there this summer?! It's a good thing I have such an awesome job or I don't think I could stand it. Speaking of my job :-) my job is super cool. I love it a lot. So far. I guess I haven't actually been out in the real world yet so I don't know what it's really like, but the training has been way cool. Well, okay, so the Georgia portion sucked but the stuff we learned was cool. And now we're going to go learn more super cool stuff. Really, my life is super cool. I am really very much amazingly blessed. And can I just say how nice it is to be back on the West coast? I left Georgia yesterday afternoon and it was around 90 degrees and humid. I got to Virginia and it was a little cooler, but it was also two thirty in the morning and raining. I got to Seattle and the sun was shining and the air was nice and cool. It was refreshing! Mmmmm....I'm getting more and more excited for San Francisco everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think that sitting in an airport, I'd have more interesting things to write about than my job and Alaska. I could tell you about the little girl to my left that keeps saying "something something something dooogggg" in a singsongy voice, but you don't want to read about that. I could talk about how SUPER AMAZING Anne is for on the spur of the moment, not only forgiving me for cancelling my dinner plans with her but for taking me to the airport at six thirty in the morning and being willing to come pick me up on Sunday night really, really late. Isn't she AWESOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six thirty reminded me that I've been getting up at five thirty every weekday morning for the past three months. That really does something to you. Now, sleeping in is 7 and I can't nap during the day. And come nine thirty at night, I'm exhausted! It's kind of sad and at the same time, I've sure been able to get a lot done. And now I'm kind of in the habit and I sort of like it. That's sick. Anyway, I've spent the past three months living fifteen minutes from the beach. I'm really going to miss that. It's been nice. We had a great time on the beach a couple weeks ago. Emily, Jace, Bria, and Bronson all met me on the beach and we played in the ocean. Good times. I'm not going to miss the nasty food I've been eating and I'm really hoping that since I'm heading home, I'll get to eat some of my mom's amazing homemade food. It doesn't matter what she makes. It's always good. Okay, the wheat bread and beans wasn't so tasty, but everything else is always really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you haven't figured out by now, if you've actually read this far, I'm just rambling because I'm bored. People think I'm very quiet when they first meet me. HA! I have them fooled. What they don't know is that it's actually nearly impossible to get me to a)talk about anything important and b)shutup. Yep. I'll talk non-stop until you wish you had some duct tape or earplugs. Or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's 1:30 and so I'm down to an hour and 45 minutes to kill. *fingers drumming* I guess I won't put you through any more of this pointless blog. Oh, can I say before I go how happy I am to be away from the little no-see-ums. The little flying gnats whose whole purpose in life is to tear away the biggest chunks of flesh they can. If they don't take it from you, you'll itch your own skin off. Ew, that's kind of gross - but it's true. Well, I'm going to sign off now. But don't fear! You're not done with me yet! I'm just going to sign off so I can put the pictures of my pedicure up. See ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7654802591127576769?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7654802591127576769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7654802591127576769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7654802591127576769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7654802591127576769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/05/shopping-in-airport.html' title='Shopping in an airport'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8978804780783747848</id><published>2009-04-29T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T12:23:31.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On blogging and who knows what else</title><content type='html'>Since Jules called me out on rejoining the blogging world, and since I have a twenty minute break to fill, I decided that I would  blog again. Yes, I know. Two blogs in two days. What is the world coming to? I have five minutes to post my innermost thoughts to the outside world. So let's see. Well, boys are still dumb. Really, really dumb. Ummm...what else. I bought two new books because rather than studying for a test, I have been reading. Not the smartest choice. But whatever. Ummmm....believe it or not, I'll actually be sad to leave Georgia. I'll be REALLY happy to be done with my training, but I'm going to miss the area. There's a lot here to enjoy. Plus I'm sad to leave my friend Emily. She's very cool and she has two adoreable kids that she let's me play with. But to make me feel better, I can go ask Hot Guy if his sister has delivered her baby yet so that he can ignore me. That's always a self-esteem boost. Not ignore me, just shut down on me because he has a problem with me that he won't address. But I've already been through the whole "boys are dumb" issue. So let's move on to something more positive. This weekend Jules and I are going to see Wicked in Jacksonville! How amazingly cool is that?! I'm so looking forward to it. It'll be a great weekend. *laughing* Gosh, I'm certainly being pissy today! My goodness! I just reread my blog and it sounds so catty! My apologies, dear readers. I am feeling a little bit that way today but I didn't know it would be so blatant in my post. So I will buck up and exude a better attitude. Life is good! As I was saying, I get to go see Wicked for the second time. It was AMAZING the first time and I think it'll be even better the second time. Well, my time is up so I better go. Happy afternoon to you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8978804780783747848?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8978804780783747848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8978804780783747848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8978804780783747848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8978804780783747848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-blogging-and-who-knows-what-else.html' title='On blogging and who knows what else'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1528522195170191751</id><published>2009-04-28T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T13:02:53.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tall Dark and Handsome</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh. I'm actually back. It's true. I haven't blogged in ... well, I don't actually know how long it's been. But I actually am posting today! I'm sitting in class and I can't read through the scenario I was given anymore. It's making my head hurt. So I decided to reconnect with the world. So, what to talk about. Hmmm...well, first, I started a new job so I'll start with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love not teaching. Let me say that again. I LOVE not teaching! I heard on the news that some superintendent was saying something to all professional educators and some other people (I stopped listening) and I felt this warm, fuzzy feeling inside because it DIDN'T apply to me! I'm not a teacher anymore! Happy happy day! (To all of you who teach, I'm impressed. I truly don't know how you do it. I'm amazed by you. I'm humbled by you. I respect you. I just couldn't do it anymore.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...what else should I blog about? How about boys! The joy and bane of every girl's existence. Have you ever met that guy that's tall, dark, handsome, smart, funny, sweet, and has a really sexy voice? You know that guy? The one that makes you go weak at the knees? Yeah, I met that guy. And he's all that and more. And I'd wrap him up and take him home if I could. (For you Twilight fans, this guy could give Edward Cullen a run for his money!) If only he'd be honest with me. Why do boys have to complicate things so much? It's not hard. Isn't it simple and logical to simply discuss a problem then move on? What's emotional or irrational about that? I've come to the conclusion that because guys don't feel things the same way girls do, they view us as "emotional" and "illogical." (I don't know what's illogical about feeling things. Maybe someone could explain that.) But it seems extremely emotional and illogical to lie to someone, get mad at them, and not simply state the problem and work out a solution. Call me crazy, but that whole state the problem/work out a stolution thing seems pretty logical to me. Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of boys, I had a couple guys on my floor invite me to watch the fight with them the other night. By the time I got there, they were fairly drunk. Yeah, so one of them tried to hold my hand. And then he asked me if I was married and I thought to myself, "You just tried to hold my hand and NOW you're asking if I'm married? And why are you hitting on me if you think I could be married?!" And then he hit me with (drumroll please) "I'm married and I have two kids. My wife doesn't care if I sleep around as long as I don't bring another woman home with me." I mean, what do you say to that? "Oh, that's nice. She sounds like a great girl."?!?!? HELLOOOO! She does NOT sound like a great girl! She sounds like a floozy! (I never thought I'd get to use "floozy" in one of my posts. Cool.) So then he goes on about how he can only sleep with a girl who is somewhat intelligent. I'm thinking to myself, "Yeah, well one of you should have some intelligence." Except that any halfway intelligent girl ISN'T GOING TO SLEEP WITH HIM! So I guess he's SOL. It was weird. And then last night a guy asked if he could take me to get some hot chocolate and he was nice and intelligent and funny and so I said yes. Hold the phone! He tried to kiss me! He'd known me all of 45 minutes and he tried to kiss me! SOMEONE PLEASE COME SAVE ME FROM THE MADNESS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my one question is, why won't Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome ask me out? Do I have, "Hi I'm Rachel and I'm easy" tattooed in some invisible ink on my forehead that only the super aggressive guys can read and I'm not even aware of? Seriously! I'M NOT EASY!!! Why doesn't hot guy with the great voice and great personality to boot ask me out?! Why do all the good ones have to be shy? :-( Does anyone have any answers to these age-old questions? If you do, please help me out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's time for me to go get in my daily workout. Swimsuit season is coming and I'm not ready! Heck, my physical fitness test is coming and I'm not ready. Yikes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1528522195170191751?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1528522195170191751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1528522195170191751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1528522195170191751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1528522195170191751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2009/04/tall-dark-and-handsome.html' title='Tall Dark and Handsome'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2262010484556838656</id><published>2008-12-27T14:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T14:55:06.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A shameless plug...</title><content type='html'>...for my friends' business. But it's actually really, really cool. I went out to Calico this summer to stay at Kate and Andy's cabin. They're friends of mine that I know through Holland America. Andy was one of the captains on the boat. He retired at the end of the summer and now he and Kate are starting their business. So if you or someone you know are looking for a really cool adventure in Alaska, I would totally recommend them. They're really amazing and here's their website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://alaskayukonadventure.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss them! I had so much fun with them! Their cabin is so beautiful and they are definitely living the true Alaska lifestyle!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2262010484556838656?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2262010484556838656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2262010484556838656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2262010484556838656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2262010484556838656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/12/shameless-plug.html' title='A shameless plug...'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1118473539255773078</id><published>2008-12-27T14:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T14:42:45.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been forever since I updated this. Do I start every blog post with that? Probably. Anyway, so Christmas was basically awesome. Our whole family was together this year. It was CRAZY! But it was crazy fun! Everyone left yesterday and it was sad. Our house is so quiet now. My sister and her baby live here so at least they're still around. My niece is so funny to watch! Especially when she gets tired like she is right now. Seriously, if she was 20 I'd think she was drunk. She's quite entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took family pictures yesterday. Have you ever tried to keep seven children under the age of six happy for an hour? Wow. The photographer finally got the kids to pay attention (mostly) by bouncing a rubber basketball off his head and saying "Ow!" My nephew Jace laughed and laughed until he was practically rolling on the ground. Which didn't really work for the picture. Sadly, I didn't go with my gut instinct when I got ready and ended up HATING the picture. So if any of you think the picture's going to end up on here....think again!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1118473539255773078?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1118473539255773078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1118473539255773078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1118473539255773078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1118473539255773078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1543023316941915078</id><published>2008-11-17T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T20:07:38.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh yes...</title><content type='html'>I TOTALLY forgot to mention that I started training for the National Marathon today. I'm SO excited! It feels really good to be in a training schedule again. The ironic thing is that today was my cross training day, so I didn't even run today. But it just felt good to pick up my old Hal Higdon training schedule. It felt like meeting up with an old friend. (Albeit, an extremely demanding, difficult but eventually AWESOME friend.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1543023316941915078?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1543023316941915078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1543023316941915078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1543023316941915078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1543023316941915078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-yes.html' title='Oh yes...'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3551817608738901852</id><published>2008-11-17T19:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T20:00:52.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate</title><content type='html'>Today was my first day working at Sarah's Candy Cottage in Idaho Falls. (If you're ever in IF, check out Sarah's. They make really good chocolate and they give out free samples. But beware, you might get hooked!) I got to make candy bars today. Crazy, huh? I'm working at Sarah's for the Christmas season. I felt like I was in the movie "Chocolat" - minus Johnny Depp, sadly. It was so fun! Hopefully it will be fun throughout the entire holiday season!! I had on my little apron and I was pouring and stirring chocolate then I trimmed off the edges because I overpoured so many of the bars. Ooops! They forgave me, though, since it was my first day. Hopefully tomorrow I'll do much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3551817608738901852?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3551817608738901852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3551817608738901852' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3551817608738901852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3551817608738901852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/11/chocolate.html' title='Chocolate'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2166817202238474977</id><published>2008-11-02T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T20:46:01.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Save the date!</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh! I just registered for the National Marathon. March 21st! I'm so excited! I can't wait to get out and race again. I had no idea what I was missing out on! It's so hard but it's such a rush to do a marathon. I'm excited for every aspect. I think that training for this race will be easier because I'll be able to envision what the race is like. I guess every race is different but I can't wait to feel that energy and excitement the racers have. I always played team sports and I love feeling like I'm part of a group again. Part of a group of people out trying to push themselves and their limits. I'm not out there to win - obviously, I'm not even close to that level - but I love the feeling of setting a personal goal and then doing it. It feels amazing! This time I'm going to try to beat my time on my first marathon. Eventually, I want to qualify for Boston and I also want to start doing some triathlons. Of course, someday I want to do an Ironman but that's still a ways away. For now, I'm just going to focus on improving for this marathon and cross training with weights, biking, and swimming to start phasing in the triathlons. It should be exciting! Well, for me, anyway. It might be painfully boring for you to read about. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2166817202238474977?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2166817202238474977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2166817202238474977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2166817202238474977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2166817202238474977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/11/save-date.html' title='Save the date!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-147705344468248004</id><published>2008-10-26T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:24:12.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I ran a marathon today</title><content type='html'>I ran the Marine Corps Marathon today. What a rush! It was my very first official marathon and I was nervous. I felt much better once we actually started running. It was challenging because on my long training runs I knew the trail really well so I knew exactly where I was going and how long it would take me to get there. I didn't know the course for the marathon. I'd looked at the map but it didn't really mean much until I was actually out there. In the past, when I've run shorter races, I found the spectators kind of annoying. When they shouted out "Keep going! You can do it!" it seemed redundant because I run everyday so of course I knew I could do it. I did it everyday. But my last 20 mile training run had been really tough and I wasn't sure I could do the marathon. So I found the spectators extremely encouraging and at times - highly entertaining. I also learned a lot about running a marathon. These lessons were what mostly occupied my thoughts as I was running. So here are a few highlights from the marathon as well as some lessons I learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest highlight were the spectators. Here are a few spectator highlights:&lt;br /&gt;A sign: "May the Course be with you"&lt;br /&gt;A sign: "Chuck Norris wouldn't quit"&lt;br /&gt;A lady yelling "you're almost there" at mile 2&lt;br /&gt;the men - and some of the women - peeing along Spout Run Parkway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons I learned if you're a spectator:&lt;br /&gt;The sign "Run Forest (insert actual name of runner) Run" is WAY overused! Come up with something more original.&lt;br /&gt;Bring signs. Even if they say "Run Bronwyn Run"&lt;br /&gt;Yell. Clap. Scream. Encourage the runners. They really, really appreciate it. It really makes a difference. It's easier to run when the spectators are encouraging you.&lt;br /&gt;Dress up. It's fun and adds some variety to the race.&lt;br /&gt;Clap for everyone. Every runner needs the encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;Start at the beginning and then move to different mileposts. Your runner will appreciate your encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;Set up shop between mileposts. It can get pretty quiet which makes it harder to run - especially at the end.&lt;br /&gt;Bring candy for the runners. A quick boost of energy is really helpful and it's no fun to have to carry stuff with you while you're running.&lt;br /&gt;If you can't make it to the whole race, meet your runner(s) at the end. Even if they don't see you, knowing you were there makes an incredible difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons I learned if you're a runner:&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter who you pass or -more importantly -who passes you. It matters that you've set goals for yourself and that you're working to accomplish those goals.&lt;br /&gt;Be aware of the runners around you. Someone may need your help and everyone needs everyone's courtesy and thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;Do your long runs. This gets you used to how your body reacts to running a lot of miles. You'll know what may go wrong and can fix it before the race. You also develop the mental toughness that you'll desperately need starting around mile 20. Or before.&lt;br /&gt;Do hill work - even if you think the course will be flat. You never know when a hill will be waiting for you around the next corner!&lt;br /&gt;Please, please, please don't pee into the bushes along the course. One word: awkward! (Okay, I understand that when you gotta go you gotta go and you either can't wait for the nearest porta potty or you don't want to wait in the line. But still!)&lt;br /&gt;Eat bananas.&lt;br /&gt;Do your cross training. I'd recommend weights. If I'd lifted more weights, I don't think my quads would have hurt so much.&lt;br /&gt;Stretch really well before, during, and after the race. Actually, stretch a lot during the race. Stretching made a huge difference to me finishing.&lt;br /&gt;Drink a lot of water. And walk through the water breaks so you can actually drink the water. I had the hardest time on long training runs when I didn't have water and I couldn't believe the difference drinking water throughout the race made. I think that and stretching actually made the biggest difference to finishing.&lt;br /&gt;Cheer on other runners when you finish. If you're still standing, that is.&lt;br /&gt;Dress up if you can stand it. (I don't think I could run a marathon in a Kermit the Frog bodysuit, but that's just me.)&lt;br /&gt;Don't carry anything extra with you that you won't need. They'll provide water so unless you drink A LOT of water, the water they provide should be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, these are the lessons I learned for me. Everyone is different. But I'm so glad I ran the marathon and I can't wait to run another! I'm going to - just as soon as I can walk again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-147705344468248004?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/147705344468248004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=147705344468248004' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/147705344468248004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/147705344468248004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-ran-marathon-today.html' title='I ran a marathon today'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2501390329956731012</id><published>2008-10-02T06:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T07:03:10.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ultimate Road Trip</title><content type='html'>First, if you haven't listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack, you should. It's fun music. Now, on to what I was really thinking about this morning. So, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with my life. But I felt really good about quitting my job and I've felt all along that things will work out as they should. So, I'm thinking that in the interim between this blissful state of unemployment and jumping back into the rat race, I need to see this great country. So I think I'm going to do a road trip around the US. There are so many places I haven't been. There are so many things I haven't seen. I figured that if it came to the end of the summer and I hadn't found a job, I would go backpack around Europe. And  maybe I still will. But I think it would be terrible if I had the chance to explore my native land and didn't take advantage of it. So if anyone has suggestions of what I should see, where I should go, and what I should do, let me know! If anyone wants to come along, let me know! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2501390329956731012?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2501390329956731012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2501390329956731012' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2501390329956731012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2501390329956731012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/10/ultimate-road-trip.html' title='The Ultimate Road Trip'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2033341694113920524</id><published>2008-09-30T16:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T16:43:13.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do we like the change or should I go green?</title><content type='html'>So, I was feeling like a change and so I inflicted this desire for change on my blog. What do you think? What is the general consensus here? Should I keep it or should I go back to the green?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2033341694113920524?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2033341694113920524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2033341694113920524' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2033341694113920524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2033341694113920524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/do-we-like-change-or-should-i-go-green.html' title='Do we like the change or should I go green?'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4295093396305887540</id><published>2008-09-29T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:22:11.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Borrowing from Darin</title><content type='html'>I was reading through Darin's blog and reading through his lists of things that must go. I was thinking about things that must go while I was sitting in the airport this weekend. I came up with two things that must go:&lt;br /&gt;1) People rushing up to the counter and hovering like buzzards over a kill to board the plane. People, it's assigned seating. You're going to get a seat. This isn't Wal-Mart on Black Friday. You're going to get on the plane. Chill. Yes, let's hurryupreallyfastto    &lt;br /&gt;sit   &lt;br /&gt;for    &lt;br /&gt;four&lt;br /&gt;    or     &lt;br /&gt;five   &lt;br /&gt;hours.&lt;br /&gt;Zzzzzzzzz......&lt;br /&gt;2) People rushing to get OFF the plane. First, I must qualify this because if you have a tight connection you have a very real and validated need to hurry off the plane. However, that's the only reason to be knocking people over trying to get off the plane. If you need a bathroom, you should be heading towards the back, not the front, of the plane. And why didn't you go while the plane was in flight? Again, folks, they won't ALLOW you to stay on the plane. You're going to get off the plane so relax. Standing up and glaring at the person next to you only makes you somewhat of a schmuck. It won't make them let you off any sooner. If anything, it will make them want to move slower and hold you up because you're being a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go. My list of two things that must go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4295093396305887540?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4295093396305887540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4295093396305887540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4295093396305887540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4295093396305887540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/borrowing-from-darin.html' title='Borrowing from Darin'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2953601529693680613</id><published>2008-09-25T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:23:24.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On jumping off cliffs</title><content type='html'>I did something today that was scary. It was really, really scary. I can't go into details because it involves other people and so unfortunately, I have to be very vague. I've debated for a couple days about whether or not I should do what I did. I went back and forth on the issue. Sometimes it seemed like a good idea and sometimes it seemed like a very, very bad idea. But this afternoon I was reading my friend Rochelle's blog and she had written about taking risks. She made the great point that if we never take risks we can miss out on some of life's greatest opportunities. So, I decided to take the risk. I still don't know the outcome of the risk but I realized some very important things. 1) I may not get the outcome I want. And if I don't, my life will not have changed at all. I'm not out anything. My life will continue on exactly as it is right now. If I do get it, great! That would be fantastic. But ultimately the right thing will happen and my life will take the right path. 2) I'm a stronger person for taking this risk. I know this because I've gotten up the courage to take similar risks before and this one was easier to take. Mind you, it was still scary (as I said, it's taken 2 days to come to the conclusion to take it) but once I had decided, actually going through with it was easier than it was the first time I had to do something like this. I didn't realize until I jumped into this that I'm stronger about these things. 3) I'm a better person for doing this. I've done something that scared me. I've done something that made me vulnerable and put me out there. And I have more respect for myself for doing it. I don't think it's just me that reacts like this. I think these are probably principles that apply to everyone. So if you're facing a risky situation and you're just not sure what to do, look at the situation and decide what would happen if you didn't act and what could happen if you did. Most likely, you'll be better for it in the end. So walk up to the edge of the cliff, look at the wide expanse in front of you, and jump. I think you'll find that you'll fly. And if it feels like you crash and burn, when you look back, you'll find that you can jump off higher cliffs and fly because you dared to jump off the first one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2953601529693680613?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2953601529693680613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2953601529693680613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2953601529693680613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2953601529693680613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-jumping-off-of-cliffs.html' title='On jumping off cliffs'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8420451876957744239</id><published>2008-09-24T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T04:49:54.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seattle</title><content type='html'>In my last post, I alluded to my ten hour layover in Seattle. I arrived in Seattle yesterday at around 12:30. I didn't fly out until 10:20 last night. So, rather than sitting around in the Seattle airport, and knowing a lot of people who are from Washington, I decided to do a little research and see what I could find out about Seattle. The general concensus (thank you Jake, Jeff, and Anne) was that I should definitely go out and see the city. I hopped on a city bus and took off for downtown Seattle. I loved it! I should seriously consider moving to Washington. Phil is there so I'd already have a friend in town. I could move out to where he's living and we could be neighbors. It would be awesome! Anyway, I put my luggage in storage at the airport and forgot to grab my camera but fortunately I have a camera phone so I'm going to put in some of the pictures I got of Seattle. We started out at Pike's Market. If you've ever seen the fish market on TV where they yell out to each other and toss fish around and make funny comments back and forth, the picture on the bottom is that fish market. It's a really great place. When I took this picture, the guy on the right turned to the guy on the left and shouts really loud, "Dude! What are you doing, man? She's taking our picture. Pay attention!" He was totally dishing it to the other guy, who dished it right back. You could tell they loved their jobs. Or they acted like they did anyway:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomXTuOY3I/AAAAAAAABAc/fIRR_-u28B0/s1600-h/0922081855.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomXTuOY3I/AAAAAAAABAc/fIRR_-u28B0/s320/0922081855.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249550497526735730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNoluuleQpI/AAAAAAAAA_s/kOca3hMqwko/s1600-h/0922081733%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNoluuleQpI/AAAAAAAAA_s/kOca3hMqwko/s320/0922081733%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249549800363147922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolv5pwSNI/AAAAAAAABAM/Tg-bWFIqqvs/s1600-h/0922081739a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolv5pwSNI/AAAAAAAABAM/Tg-bWFIqqvs/s320/0922081739a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249549820513765586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolvVoKkjI/AAAAAAAAA_8/KaXA-nqsJH8/s1600-h/0922081734.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolvVoKkjI/AAAAAAAAA_8/KaXA-nqsJH8/s320/0922081734.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249549810843423282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolvrsMMqI/AAAAAAAABAE/UW61JP1ouAk/s1600-h/0922081736.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNolvrsMMqI/AAAAAAAABAE/UW61JP1ouAk/s320/0922081736.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249549816765887138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomW-4_rjI/AAAAAAAABAU/9rbZb07cjjM/s1600-h/0922081740.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomW-4_rjI/AAAAAAAABAU/9rbZb07cjjM/s320/0922081740.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249550491934764594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX5WKAGI/AAAAAAAABAk/D6Zbw54G9A4/s1600-h/0922081916a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX5WKAGI/AAAAAAAABAk/D6Zbw54G9A4/s320/0922081916a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249550507626332258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX2oBwGI/AAAAAAAABA0/_CF5hP9yL04/s1600-h/0922081933.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX2oBwGI/AAAAAAAABA0/_CF5hP9yL04/s320/0922081933.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249550506895982690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX1bICQI/AAAAAAAABAs/vVZ-zTon-Yk/s1600-h/0922081934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomX1bICQI/AAAAAAAABAs/vVZ-zTon-Yk/s320/0922081934.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249550506573433090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These last three are of the Space Needle. The first one, obviously, is the space needle and the other two are views from the space needle at sunset. It was cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8420451876957744239?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8420451876957744239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8420451876957744239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8420451876957744239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8420451876957744239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/seattle.html' title='Seattle'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNomXTuOY3I/AAAAAAAABAc/fIRR_-u28B0/s72-c/0922081855.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3215225350227159319</id><published>2008-09-24T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T01:57:45.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prudhoe Bay and the Dalton Highway</title><content type='html'>Oh my goodness. There's always so much to blog about until I sit down to actually do it. Then I can't think of anything. Then I start writing and can't stop! So, let me give you an update on my life. I am sitting in the basement of the lemon road house (for those of you that don't know what that is, it's where I used to live in Virginia) and the lights are all on to ward off scary, yucky bugs and it's four o'clock in the morning. I left Alaska yesterday morning at six am. I flew into Anchorage and then on to Seattle. I had a ten hour layover in Seattle before flying to Virginia to get here at 6:30 in the morning. The fabulous Anne came and picked me up. I hadn't slept much and so I slept all day today and woke up with a headache which led me to taking some migraine medication which had a lot of caffeine in it. Thus I am sitting up at four o'clock in the morning and wishing I was sleeping because I need to get stuff done tomorrow. Today? Whenever. So, let me back up to my last four/five days in Alaska. After I got off the highway, I had a few days in town doing city tours and transfers and optional tours and such. On the 17th (the day I was originally coming back to Virginia) I instead headed north to the north slope. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn3o0dW6TI/AAAAAAAAA-g/cNIKGHOsjrI/s1600-h/Dalton+Hwy+1+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn3o0dW6TI/AAAAAAAAA-g/cNIKGHOsjrI/s320/Dalton+Hwy+1+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249499121325631794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I flew up to Prudhoe Bay to take over the charter that we were running up there. We had been hired by Alyeska to transport pipeline workers from Prudhoe Bay (the oil fields where the Alaska pipeline begins and where pump station one is) to pump station 2, a trip of about 60 miles one way. They were doing some work on the pump station. Anyway, Jake was up there and I flew up and spent a glorious almost whole day with Jake learning how to do the run. Oh my gosh! It was SO much fun! I landed at the airport in Deadhorse. Jake came and picked me up and we went to the hotel. We dropped off my stuff and Jake finished up some laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnwov3F0xI/AAAAAAAAA-I/7gSRwVuGiXs/s1600-h/Dalton+Hwy+1+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnwov3F0xI/AAAAAAAAA-I/7gSRwVuGiXs/s320/Dalton+Hwy+1+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249491423509992210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once I had gone to make my lunch (or rather, gave Jake a convenient excuse to eat two pieces of Boston creme pie considering that I ended up leaving my lunch at the hotel when we left for the pump station...) we went back to the hotel (a tragic mistake, as that's where my lunch ended up staying) so Jake could grab his laundry from the dryer, then we headed out of Deadhorse. I read a great saying in Deadhorse: If you think hell doesn't freeze over, you've never been to Deadhorse. This was printed on a thermometer. Great, isn't it? Anyway, so Jake had me drive from Deadhorse to pump station 2 so I could see how to get there. On the way, we saw some beautiful bluffs:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnx33398JI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/gRzlOCy3hB0/s1600-h/Prudhoe+Bay+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnx33398JI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/gRzlOCy3hB0/s320/Prudhoe+Bay+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249492782870818962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;as well as some musk ox (muskox?):&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnyJXqLgoI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/d7x8xlbuEPM/s1600-h/Prudhoe+Bay+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNnyJXqLgoI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/d7x8xlbuEPM/s320/Prudhoe+Bay+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249493083460698754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was VERY windy when I got to the north slope. You should see the tundra when it's waving in the wind. It looks like the ocean. It's really quite beautiful. The north slope is flat. When you look out to the horizon, it's like looking over the ocean. Depths are very deceptive out there. Something that is 10 miles away looks at least half that distance. One of the security guards was telling me that there are spots on the tundra that are like quicksand. You have to be very careful. They will swallow you. Apparently, people have died in these tundra traps. The north slope is so interesting. There are no trees. None. Not even the scrubby little pipe cleaner trees that grow in the permafrost. (One small political note: I was initially against drilling for oil in ANWR. Since seeing the north slope firsthand, I can say that if we're going to drill anywhere, that's the place. There's nothing to destroy and it's easy (relatively speaking) to recover. It's stupid to let a vast oil reserve sit there going to waste. Okay, I'm stepping off my soapbox now.) So, Jake and I got to pump station 2. It was much less windy and much warmer there. We went into the security office and Jake introduced me to Jesse, the security guard. He's such a great guy! We chatted with him for a while and then went back to the motorcoach to take naps. It was a really nice day spent reading, chatting with Jesse, sleeping and taking care of the motorcoach. Around 5:30 we picked everyone up and drove back into Prudhoe Bay. We saw more muskox, some caribou, and a white fox and a red fox. (One small tour note: We spend our entire drive looking for moose and caribou and bears when we're giving tours. I go to the north slope and there are animals everywhere. Oh the irony. Anyway....) So, the motorcoach had been leaking antifreeze. This is not okay - especially when it's 30 degrees outside. So Fred, our fabulous and amazing mechanic who I just adore, drove up from Fairbanks to check out the engine. I wanted to stay outside and chat with him but the wind was still blowing and I was freezing so I went inside with Jake to eat dinner. Fred finished up and came in and joined us. (You know, Jake, Fred, and I have had some interesting experiences this summer. It was Fred that brought Jake a new tire when Jake's coach blew a tire during our Eagle run.) We were actually joking about how they weren't going to let Jake and I run together anymore because bad things kept happening. But you weren't there so you didn't get to enjoy that conversation so let's move on. After dinner Jake and I talked for a while then went to bed because I had to start the next morning at 4 and Jake very kindly and graciously agreed to get up early and come with me on my first run. I was SO grateful. I just wished he could have stayed the whole time. Anyway, so we got up the next morning and it was freezing. We did a pre-trip then went and ate breakfast. They fed us like royalty up there. You wouldn't believe the massive amounts of food they had available. I ate my divine breakfast, made my lunch, and we went back to the motorcoach. I drove around and we picked up everyone and headed off. Jake sat in the jump seat and gave me pointers about the drive. Back at pump station 2, we dropped everyone off and then went back to park the coach and say good morning to Jesse. After saying good morning, we went outside to enjoy the beautiful sunrise. We found some great seats! Jake popped the hatches open on the coach and we climbed up on top and sat on the roof of the motorcoach and watched the sun rise. I watched until I got too cold, then I went back inside. Jake and I read together a little and then far too soon it was time for me to drive Jake back because he had a plane to catch. We talked on the way back to Prudhoe and before I knew it, we were back at the hotel. In spite of me begging him not to leave me (okay, so he had no choice), Jake went in to pack and get ready for his flight. I can honestly say that the hardest part of my summer was watching Jake wave at me from the door of the hotel and walk inside, away from me. I held it together pretty well until Jake left and then I lost it. I cried all the way back to pump station 2. Fortunately, I had it pretty well together by the time I got there. I spent a rather lonely first day at the pump station. My next two days were pretty much the same schedule. After getting over my separation anxiety from Jake, I rather enjoyed myself. It turned out to be a lot of fun! My second morning in Prudhoe, I left the cafeteria and I was walking toward my motorcoach around 4:50 in the morning. I looked up and the northern lights were dancing overhead while the sun was coming up over the arctic ocean behind me. It was an unforgettable moment. I got to run this until Saturday. On Sunday, I left Prudhoe Bay and drove the motorcoach back to Fairbanks. I had so many people telling me how awful the Dalton highway (aka Haul Road) is. Esther, the key lady, asked me if someone was coming to pilot me back. When I said no, she asked if I'd ever driven the road before. One of the drivers in Fairbanks who gives a tour to Prudhoe was going on and on about how messy and snowy the road had become and how he'd never want to drive it at this time of year. So, to say I was nervous about the drive is an understatement. But I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. So, I slept in on Sunday until about 6 and then left about 7:30 for Fairbanks. I stopped at PS 2 to say hello to Jesse and pick up the batteries I'd accidentally left charging there the day before. Jesse insisted on me taking some hot chocolate with me. As I was getting ready to leave, Jesse was standing in the open door of the security office telling me how I was leaving at just the right time because it was snowing on Atigun Pass and in a few days it would snow and stick. As he's saying this, I see the misty rain is now turning to snow. So, I left pump station 2 and this is what I encountered:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn59LkUKKI/AAAAAAAAA-o/Cr81fRK9a4E/s1600-h/Dalton+Hwy+1+087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn59LkUKKI/AAAAAAAAA-o/Cr81fRK9a4E/s320/Dalton+Hwy+1+087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249501670149466274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It wasn't like this the whole way, but it started sticking to the ground just past PS2 and stayed that way until I was over Atigun Pass. It doesn't show it in this picture, but it was snowing. And you know what? The road was great! Atigun Pass, a spot people were speaking of with a terrified reverence, was easy! It had guard rails, for heaven sake! I actually didn't realize I'd made it over the pass until I checked my mirrors and saw the sign saying "Atigun Pass" for the people that were northbound (I was southbound). The drive was incredible and the road was in great shape! I definitely had nothing to be worried about. Here are some pictures I took of the drive:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn65vU6teI/AAAAAAAAA-w/94YO6hdAta0/s1600-h/Dalton+Hwy+1+114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn65vU6teI/AAAAAAAAA-w/94YO6hdAta0/s320/Dalton+Hwy+1+114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249502710540711394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a picture of the Brooks Range. It was covered in clouds, unfortunately. Every once in a while, I would glimpse tall, snow covered peaks peering out at me from behind their veil of clouds. What I could see was really beautiful.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn7dCayCXI/AAAAAAAAA-4/02UfgBCadx4/s1600-h/Dalton+Hwy+1+085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn7dCayCXI/AAAAAAAAA-4/02UfgBCadx4/s320/Dalton+Hwy+1+085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249503316961003890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the trans-Alaska pipeline. It was covered in snow. I took a ton of pictures of the pipeline because I was so amazed by it. I saw it almost the entire drive. I'm really impressed with the pipeline and the people who built it. I have a newfound appreciation for them and for it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn7_EB4P2I/AAAAAAAAA_A/Cm06gbr9CBw/s1600-h/haul+road+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn7_EB4P2I/AAAAAAAAA_A/Cm06gbr9CBw/s320/haul+road+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249503901508976482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It wasn't until I came down Atigun Pass and below the tree line that I really recognized the lack of trees on the north slope. I hadn't realized how strange it was without them until I was back in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn9aW3OgPI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/YaXfFWQhWlk/s1600-h/haul+road+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn9aW3OgPI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/YaXfFWQhWlk/s320/haul+road+044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249505469932667122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Coldfoot, AK. Yeah, it's an actual place. Like people live here. There are houses and a post office. I believe our guests overnight here when they do a Prudhoe Bay tour. I think the white building may be where they stay. Wow, and our Taylor highway guests think Tok is rustic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn8jkisntI/AAAAAAAAA_I/TpZ-XMmrSy4/s1600-h/haul+road+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn8jkisntI/AAAAAAAAA_I/TpZ-XMmrSy4/s320/haul+road+058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249504528711851730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Being up above the arctic circle was cool. Driving across the arctic circle was even more cool. They have a big sign and visitor center but the road to it was very narrow and I wasn't sure there was a place for me to turn the motorcoach around in so I didn't venture up the road to get a picture of the sign.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn-RwLFubI/AAAAAAAAA_c/_iMEf6ytOI4/s1600-h/haul+road+060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn-RwLFubI/AAAAAAAAA_c/_iMEf6ytOI4/s320/haul+road+060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249506421619669426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is just another shot of the pipeline. Seriously, most of my pictures are of the pipeline because I was just that impressed by what they built in such a hostile, unforgiving environment.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn-vZSN4WI/AAAAAAAAA_k/fxrEF2vrlJc/s1600-h/haul+road+073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn-vZSN4WI/AAAAAAAAA_k/fxrEF2vrlJc/s320/haul+road+073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249506930871624034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is just outside Fairbanks. By the time I got to Fairbanks, me and my camera batteries were running out of energy. It's about a twelve hour drive from Prudhoe Bay to Fairbanks. It's almost 500 miles. It was a beautiful drive. I'm so glad I did it. I guess the life lesson I can learn from this is that we can listen to people and let them scare us out of taking risks or we can prepare ourselves and jump in with both feet. If we're never willing to take a few risks we can miss out on some of the most amazing experiences life has to offer. Oh great. I'm starting to discuss the deeper meaning in life. It's time to end this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night! Or good morning. Either way, it's time for me to go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3215225350227159319?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3215225350227159319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3215225350227159319' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3215225350227159319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3215225350227159319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/prudhoe-bay-and-dalton-highway.html' title='Prudhoe Bay and the Dalton Highway'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SNn3o0dW6TI/AAAAAAAAA-g/cNIKGHOsjrI/s72-c/Dalton+Hwy+1+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5638238767864876819</id><published>2008-09-16T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T06:00:43.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Northern Lights</title><content type='html'>It 's been clear for the first time in four days. We saw the northern lights tonight. They were SO beautiful! They were pink and purple and green and white. They were dancing so close over our heads that Sara and I felt like we could reach up and touch them. I have never seen anything like it. Thanks to the pest control people throwing our house into disarray, I couldn't find my camera but Karlyn took pictures so I'm going to borrow them from him. I think Phil took pictures too so I'll get his and post them as well. It was incredible!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5638238767864876819?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5638238767864876819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5638238767864876819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5638238767864876819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5638238767864876819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/northern-lights.html' title='The Northern Lights'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1208440841683411262</id><published>2008-09-09T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:48:06.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Garrison Keillor</title><content type='html'>Garrison Keillor came to Fairbanks tonight. We went to his show. He is hilarious. It was a ton of fun. We had dinner at Gambardella's before the show. Mmmm. Okay. That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1208440841683411262?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1208440841683411262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1208440841683411262' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1208440841683411262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1208440841683411262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/garrison-keillor.html' title='Garrison Keillor'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7038685764778439451</id><published>2008-09-09T12:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T12:53:01.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calico</title><content type='html'>So, after loads of drama, I went out on the last run of the season. I got to go to Kate and Andy's cabin at Calico Bluff. We'd been talking all summer long about me going to see the cabin. They're moving there permanently at the end of the week. I can understand why. It's absolutely beautiful! So, we made the trip happen on my last run. It was so fun! We went down Friday night and stayed until Saturday morning. It was amazing to wake up and watch the sun come up over the mountain and light up the hills and trees. It's very rustic and beautiful. In fact, it's so rustic you can imagine my surprise when I mentioned that I needed to use the restroom. I figured the bathroom would be an outhouse and it was. The surprise came when I went around to the front of the outhouse ... and there wasn't a door! No door at all! I was so glad it was dark - especially since Andy was outside checking on his sled dogs. Oh my! It was a little more awkward the next morning when Andy was outside and it was light! At least I knew what to expect that time. So, here are a few pictures. I just wish they captured how beautiful it really was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is the garden at Andy and Kate's cabin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP1D2y00I/AAAAAAAAA9g/ngXw-7mYc9c/s1600-h/101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP1D2y00I/AAAAAAAAA9g/ngXw-7mYc9c/s320/101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244107326594667330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the view from Andy and Kate's cabin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP1ZgqbLI/AAAAAAAAA9o/0AX4jPfz0oA/s1600-h/104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP1ZgqbLI/AAAAAAAAA9o/0AX4jPfz0oA/s320/104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244107332407422130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calico Bluff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP19vWo2I/AAAAAAAAA9w/fC8TgVHEgns/s1600-h/110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP19vWo2I/AAAAAAAAA9w/fC8TgVHEgns/s320/110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244107342132716386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calico Bluff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP2DkdUuI/AAAAAAAAA94/z0Nn1CXIUCA/s1600-h/113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP2DkdUuI/AAAAAAAAA94/z0Nn1CXIUCA/s320/113.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244107343697629922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two swans taking off of the Yukon River&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP2YiMnAI/AAAAAAAAA-A/JKqt2tKLPDU/s1600-h/115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP2YiMnAI/AAAAAAAAA-A/JKqt2tKLPDU/s320/115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244107349325290498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7038685764778439451?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7038685764778439451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7038685764778439451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7038685764778439451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7038685764778439451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/calico.html' title='Calico'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMbP1D2y00I/AAAAAAAAA9g/ngXw-7mYc9c/s72-c/101.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2642070408433068433</id><published>2008-09-09T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T13:02:07.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally ... a new post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PxkGtxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/l_pm37dj7fo/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PxkGtxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/l_pm37dj7fo/s320/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947256843253522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I admit it. I have been slacking in the blogging department. In my defense, I'm running at about 80 hours right now, which is what we're allowed by law. So it's been a crazy busy super fun summer. It's actually turned into Fall now. Supposedly the northern lights are out. I guess I should go check since i can't sleep. I might as well check it out. I'll go do that after I post this blog. My cousin Heather and my sister - in - law Amy are actually my inspirations for blogging. (Oh joy. I can feel my cold medicine kicking in. This may end up being a very short post.) Anyway, let me move on to the interesting stuff: pictures. I have pictures to post of some of my experiences this summer. I haven't posted as much because I posted so much last summer and I've been doing the same tour this summer that I did last summer. I'm scheduled to go to Prudhoe Bay in about a week and bring a coach back so hopefully that will happen and I'll be able to get some pictures there. Anyway, here are a few pictures for your viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, and I'm writing all this from my new computer. My old one is going to my sister as soon as I can get all my old pictures and music off it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, by way of introduction, here is my latest adventure: Jake's flat tire on the Richardson highway in Salcha. So, Jake and I were paralleling from Fairbanks to Eagle. We were both deadheading so fortunately we had empty coaches (no guests). We were picking up groups in Eagle and doing tours back to Fairbanks. This adventure happened while we were deadheading, thank goodness!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-OXlBDhI/AAAAAAAAA84/qQ5d8KiSsSg/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-OXlBDhI/AAAAAAAAA84/qQ5d8KiSsSg/s320/021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947232687885842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the tire should have been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-OxymDpI/AAAAAAAAA9A/7nGE5JzJcEI/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-OxymDpI/AAAAAAAAA9A/7nGE5JzJcEI/s320/023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947239724158610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how it should look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PIWaJMI/AAAAAAAAA9I/8sb_1xPpwlU/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PIWaJMI/AAAAAAAAA9I/8sb_1xPpwlU/s320/017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947245779952834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so Jake cracked the lug nuts, removed the tire, and pulled the spare out. The lug nuts take all my weight to crack and the tires weigh 200 pounds. He threw them around like it was nothing. It was really sexy. Hey, I'm only human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PSM6s2I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/ldjR8T2KF6o/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PSM6s2I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/ldjR8T2KF6o/s320/020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947248424498018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That crack on the side of the tire? That shouldn't be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PxkGtxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/l_pm37dj7fo/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PxkGtxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/l_pm37dj7fo/s320/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243947256843253522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took some convincing, but Jake finally agreed to pose for a picture. The guy's hot...what can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2642070408433068433?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2642070408433068433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2642070408433068433' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2642070408433068433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2642070408433068433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/09/finally-new-post.html' title='Finally ... a new post!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SMY-PxkGtxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/l_pm37dj7fo/s72-c/030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2096387129009022446</id><published>2008-08-17T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:47:47.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life or Something Like It</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting in the dispatch office stewing because I'm on PM rail. The train is coming in at 8:45 pm. I have a highway tour tomorrow. I'm exhausted. I'm not supposed to be working. Everyone I've told gets the same incredulous look on their faces. At least I'm being validated, right? That won't do me much good at 5:30 tomorrow morning, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I'm trying to think of good things to offset my bad mood. So, I have a story to share with all of you. So, I've been working with a lot of cute drivers this summer. One cute driver and I have had some mutual interest this summer. So, this driver was our pilot car driver on my last highway run. So, on our night in Tok, this driver and I may or may not have spent some "quality time" together after dinner. The next day on our tour, the members of the tour group were teasing the tour director about how cute the pilot car driver was. She deflected the comments off on me. So, then they all started teasing me. Well, what could I say after the quality time the pilot car driver and I had been spending over the summer? So I just grinned. So then of course the teasing got even worse! So, when we got to Eagle, we arranged for a great goodbye in front of the guests. He was being radioed by the drivers waiting for him to take them from Eagle to Chicken. He hopped on my coach to respond, then grabbed me by the waist and kissed me in front of the guests. The coach erupted with laughter and cheers. They were SO excited! There is no way I will be able to top that. Boy, it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoyed my confession. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2096387129009022446?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2096387129009022446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2096387129009022446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2096387129009022446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2096387129009022446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/08/life-or-something-like-it.html' title='Life or Something Like It'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-9047987355813058957</id><published>2008-06-17T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T18:08:53.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alaska at Last</title><content type='html'>Sigh...so I'm finally getting settled in Fairbanks. I had a little bit of an adventure getting here because I volunteered to give up my seat because they unexpectedly were overbooked by 20 people. (they had mechanical problems with our plane and sent a smaller one.) I got a free ticket out of it, which is nice! Anyway, I finally arrived in Fairbanks at about 9:00 at night on Thursday. My first couple nights I stayed at the Regency Hotel. It was nice. It had a kitchenette so I was able to fix my own food. On Friday I took my drug test and we're still waiting for the results so I haven't been able to drive. I'm going a little stir crazy but my results should be in by tomorrow, hopefully. At least I have time to study up on my tour material. If only I would!! Anyway, I'm so excited to be here. Now I just can't wait to start driving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-9047987355813058957?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/9047987355813058957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=9047987355813058957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9047987355813058957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9047987355813058957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/06/alaska-at-last.html' title='Alaska at Last'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4206649205280381853</id><published>2008-06-10T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T14:15:16.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madame Tussaud's</title><content type='html'>On Saturday Bronwyn and I went to Madame Tussaud's. It was cool. For those of you that haven't seen the pictures on Facebook, I'm going to post a few of them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tuScv3dI/AAAAAAAAA8g/Ty0y1Ab5W9w/s1600-h/Will+Smith.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tuScv3dI/AAAAAAAAA8g/Ty0y1Ab5W9w/s320/Will+Smith.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210363198396423634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tvCSuqcI/AAAAAAAAA8o/1q5Iv_OVukk/s1600-h/Washington.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tvCSuqcI/AAAAAAAAA8o/1q5Iv_OVukk/s320/Washington.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210363211239303618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tvlMTgLI/AAAAAAAAA8w/9BXtUPcQ45k/s1600-h/Whoopi+Goldberg.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tvlMTgLI/AAAAAAAAA8w/9BXtUPcQ45k/s320/Whoopi+Goldberg.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210363220607598770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tSX_W_5I/AAAAAAAAA74/HomoXBqWNB0/s1600-h/MT21.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tSX_W_5I/AAAAAAAAA74/HomoXBqWNB0/s320/MT21.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210362718847434642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tS2YcSQI/AAAAAAAAA8A/zr6OJeOMrCY/s1600-h/MT35.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tS2YcSQI/AAAAAAAAA8A/zr6OJeOMrCY/s320/MT35.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210362727005702402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tTmZMKVI/AAAAAAAAA8I/K1KKaZBwIMQ/s1600-h/MT56.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tTmZMKVI/AAAAAAAAA8I/K1KKaZBwIMQ/s320/MT56.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210362739893741906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tUK2mqYI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/HJkZUhMcy5s/s1600-h/Reagan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tUK2mqYI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/HJkZUhMcy5s/s320/Reagan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210362749680789890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tUm_9aDI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/hMWHWHgIHgw/s1600-h/Rosa+Parks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tUm_9aDI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/hMWHWHgIHgw/s320/Rosa+Parks.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210362757236222002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7siafH4JI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/lsVbaJxGFIs/s1600-h/Johnny+Depp7.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7siafH4JI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/lsVbaJxGFIs/s320/Johnny+Depp7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361894883811474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7si3A8LUI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/uoL_gTFBXso/s1600-h/Julia+roberts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7si3A8LUI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/uoL_gTFBXso/s320/Julia+roberts.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361902541843778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sjvdNRQI/AAAAAAAAA7g/kLtAd2AdbvA/s1600-h/Me+Addressing+the+Nation.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sjvdNRQI/AAAAAAAAA7g/kLtAd2AdbvA/s320/Me+Addressing+the+Nation.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361917692790018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sj6MMnDI/AAAAAAAAA7o/Fm8YVetlN6c/s1600-h/MLK,+JR.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sj6MMnDI/AAAAAAAAA7o/Fm8YVetlN6c/s320/MLK,+JR.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361920574233650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7skRyIKjI/AAAAAAAAA7w/orFxj6Vsjsk/s1600-h/MT10.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7skRyIKjI/AAAAAAAAA7w/orFxj6Vsjsk/s320/MT10.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361926907341362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sDpXeMuI/AAAAAAAAA6o/oYqIRF2I8DA/s1600-h/Abraham+Lincoln.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sDpXeMuI/AAAAAAAAA6o/oYqIRF2I8DA/s320/Abraham+Lincoln.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361366302307042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sEePyyMI/AAAAAAAAA6w/wvxZ4Ps-dps/s1600-h/Babe+Ruth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sEePyyMI/AAAAAAAAA6w/wvxZ4Ps-dps/s320/Babe+Ruth.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361380497180866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sE9Q_zAI/AAAAAAAAA64/uhfCDa7ekiA/s1600-h/Bob+Dylan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sE9Q_zAI/AAAAAAAAA64/uhfCDa7ekiA/s320/Bob+Dylan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361388823727106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sFfYDsEI/AAAAAAAAA7A/K6vUiESWP-o/s1600-h/George+Clooney.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sFfYDsEI/AAAAAAAAA7A/K6vUiESWP-o/s320/George+Clooney.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361397980147778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sF_TG9oI/AAAAAAAAA7I/auy-OSEE_6o/s1600-h/Jefferson.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7sF_TG9oI/AAAAAAAAA7I/auy-OSEE_6o/s320/Jefferson.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210361406549325442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4206649205280381853?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4206649205280381853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4206649205280381853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4206649205280381853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4206649205280381853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/06/madame-tussauds.html' title='Madame Tussaud&apos;s'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/SE7tuScv3dI/AAAAAAAAA8g/Ty0y1Ab5W9w/s72-c/Will+Smith.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5349612524729866323</id><published>2008-06-10T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T11:16:31.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of the Beginning or the End of the End</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's been an embarrassingly long time since I updated my blog. Apologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my last day at West Potomac Academy. I knew when I started the year that it was my last. As teaching jobs go, this one is a dream. The problem is, I don't want to teach or work in a school. So I'm now moving on and looking for the next big adventure in my life. I'll be honest: this year has sucked. It's been really, really hard. There were days (thanks to certain meds prescribed by a dear doctor who I'm sure was only trying to help) that I almost couldn't get out of bed. Just functioning from day to day was a feat. But now it's all over!!! Now I get to move on and do something new and exciting. Who knows what that will be? For now, it's driving in Alaska, which I do because it's therapeutic. Who would think that being in control of 45 people's lives and working 80 hour weeks would be therapeutic. But it is. I love it! It also buys me three months to find something new. Maybe a position with the State Department will come through and maybe it won't. That remains to be seen. But I get to move on to a new adventure! And if I don't find a job, I'll take my Alaska money and go tour Europe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5349612524729866323?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5349612524729866323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5349612524729866323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5349612524729866323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5349612524729866323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/06/end-of-beginning-or-end-of-end.html' title='The End of the Beginning or the End of the End'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2947475185969613916</id><published>2008-04-30T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T07:22:36.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harbi's Viewing</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon the TV Production teacher and I went to Harbi's viewing. It was heartbreaking. The local NBC station has done a &lt;a href="http://video.nbc4.com/player/?id=245538"&gt;news story&lt;/a&gt; on Harbi. Vanchung is another of the students in our TV class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2947475185969613916?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2947475185969613916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2947475185969613916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2947475185969613916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2947475185969613916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/04/harbis-viewing.html' title='Harbi&apos;s Viewing'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5940840026319822770</id><published>2008-04-28T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T15:51:18.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memory of Harbi Adam</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I updated my blog, I know. I figured I'd posted so much last time I blogged that people would have plenty to read without being overwhelmed with new posts. But something happened Sunday morning that has prompted me to want to write on my blog again. Early Sunday morning, one of my students in our Television Production class, Harbi, and his friend went to a house party in Falls Church, Virginia. Apparently he called another of the students in the TV class around 3:30 in the morning. This student was sleeping and didn't answer the call. Harbi and his friend were on their way into the house and the party at about 4:00 am when a group of guys came up and started a fight. The group of kids pulled out a knife and stabbed Harbi and his friend. Harbi died at the hospital. His friend, as far as we know, is still in the hospital and last we heard he had gone into cardiac arrest. Harbi was one of the sweetest, nicest kids I've ever met. He would tell you that he was lazy, but he was also very smart. His greatest ambition at this point in his life was to meet girls. :-) That was probably what prompted him to go to the party. He was a really good kid. He was tall, about 6'2" and had this charming, kind of bashful smile that would melt your heart. He was funny and although he was kind of quiet in class and seemed a little shy, he had an underlying confidence that was endearing. He reminded me in some ways of my younger brother - in his mannerisms and temperament. We all met as a class today to talk about him and we cried as we realized how much we're going to miss him. He was a Senior at J.E.B. Stuart High School. He would have graduated in about four weeks. Harbi, we loved you and we're going to miss you a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5940840026319822770?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5940840026319822770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5940840026319822770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5940840026319822770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5940840026319822770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-memory-of-harbi-adam.html' title='In Memory of Harbi Adam'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7590901451057995244</id><published>2008-03-28T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T17:49:20.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>England 2008</title><content type='html'>*Drum roll please* Ta dah! Finally, I have posted my pictures and videos from England. As you'll see, I had an AMAZING time! I loved every day. I miss it and I wish I were still there. The people are so thoughtful and considerate. The food is excellent. The sites are incredible. I think I spent my week there in awe. It was an incredible experience. I've divided my trip up into various posts. I started with my videos. I'll tell you now that the videos, unfortunately, aren't that interesting. I usually took them somewhere where I either couldn't really commentate or the wind was blowing to loud for me to be heard. They can also be a little shaky because it was usually windy when I was taking video and so I don't want anyone to get queasy. After the videos the posts begin with London and take you through all the major places I visited. I've tried to post mostly in chronological order. There's also a post at the end that is completely unnecessary since it was meant as an introductory post but it's at the end. Yeah, I'm still learning how to do this blogging thing. Anyway, enjoy the pictures and thank for letting me share my trip with you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acknowledgements:&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to thank my friends and family for being excited for me and allowing me to talk about this trip almost non-stop since I booked my ticket back in January or February.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to thank Jan for allowing me to interrupt her life for almost a week. She's a grad student working toward a second masters and a PhD. She probably didn't really have time for a visitor but she was kind, gracious, generous, and fun. I couldn't have done this trip without her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to thank Rick Steve who's book led and guided me through my flight to London, through London, and my flight back to the US. Whenever I had a question, Rick had an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I'd like to thank the Brits for their consideration, thoughtfulness, politeness, good food, marvelous history, and uber-cool country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7590901451057995244?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7590901451057995244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7590901451057995244' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7590901451057995244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7590901451057995244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/england-2008.html' title='England 2008'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-418226228636862869</id><published>2008-03-28T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T17:40:35.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Videos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I took some video while I was in England. The first video is our bus ride back to York from Whitby. It had rained in Whitby but it had snowed up on the moors. The second video is of Whitby Abbey. You can hear the wind in the video. The third video is the drive to Whitby. The fourth video is on the moors at Haworth. You can hear the wind in that one as well. And I'm in that one (Brian) as proof that I really was in England! :-) The fifth video is a girl singing on the town square in York. The sixth video is traffic in London. I took it to prove that they drive on the left. I couldn't get over that. Now, honestly, these videos aren't that interesting as I didn't feel I could give commentary because I was on a bus or you couldn't hear me because of the wind. They can also be a little shaky because of the wind so if that will make you queasy, I want you to be forewarned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5c0b7378d8e573ea" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=359a39f2b8cd7b0e&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=5c0b7378d8e573ea&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=69f9934e87cee94d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6ac431a30f7fdc59&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c2a71b8732c1e14b&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/418226228636862869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=418226228636862869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/418226228636862869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/418226228636862869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/videos.html' title='Videos'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8960914877481354005</id><published>2008-03-28T15:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T16:01:03.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>London</title><content type='html'>London Baby! I couldn't believe that I was really here. Actually, at first I didn't feel like I'd even left the US. (The Brits would probably find that last statement offensive.) The thing is, when I arrived in Latvija as a missionary, EVERYTHING was different. But when our founding fathers started developing Washington D.C., they came to Europe and modeled our architecture after what they saw here. And by "modeled" I mean "copied exactly." I really felt like I was in downtown DC. Fortunately, as I started getting out into the city and hearing that beautiful British accent and seeing how nice and friendly the Brits were, it started to sink in that I really was in Europe. I couldn't have had a more perfect vacation. Everything was wonderful. The weather was cold, windy, and rainy but that's what I expected it to be so it didn't bother me. I just couldn't have asked for things to have been any more perfect. England is an interesting juxtaposition of the ancient and the modern. Buildings that were built five years ago sit next to buildings that were built 1000 years ago. It can be a confusing city so I really stuck with the tube. I'm so grateful that things went as well as they did and that I didn't have any problems. If you've never been to England, go. It's an incredible place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I arrived at Heathrow around 21:00. (In England they go by military time. Seriously, if I were British I would say that I arrived at twenty-one hundred.) The nice man at the Tourist Information Centre helped me get my train and underground ticket and told me which stop to get off at to get to my hostel. So I ventured forth into the city. I got off at the stop he told me and walked the direction he told me, took a right, and headed toward my hostel. I got there, checked in, and immediately went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I got dressed, ate breakfast, and headed to church. After heading the wrong direction getting off the underground and wandering around aimlessly, I finally found the church building. It was 9:15. I was sad that I was fifteen minutes late to church. Or so I thought. Oh no! In fact, I was actually 45 minutes EARLY for Stake conference!! That's never happened before! So I settled into my seat and eagerly awaited hearing church conducted with a British accent. The first guy that spoke was an American. GRRRR!!! But then things got better. The rest of the people were British and I thoroughly enjoyed Stake conference, and not just because of the accents. The meeting was great and the people were very nice and friendly. I met a very nice girl named Esa who is from Italy and is studying to be a psychologist. After church, I headed to the Tower of London and from there off to see the other famous sites. I've included pictures of unique things about London - things that set England apart from the US. I'm amazed how much British influence exists here in Virginia. It was nice to see that some things are, in fact, different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1vOwMuprI/AAAAAAAAA50/7RbEin5TgFQ/s1600-h/Hostel+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1vOwMuprI/AAAAAAAAA50/7RbEin5TgFQ/s320/Hostel+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182921045420451506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My room at the hostel. I'd highly recommend this place, by the way. With hotel rooms averaging $200 a night (and we're not talking the Marriott Marquis here) my hostel was simple but clean, convenient, cheap, and safe. Plus, they include breakfast and I'm all about getting as into the culture as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1vJQMupqI/AAAAAAAAA5s/_xCrRDte2Kc/s1600-h/Hostel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1vJQMupqI/AAAAAAAAA5s/_xCrRDte2Kc/s320/Hostel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182920950931170978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I even had my own sink. The only common room was the showers. Okay, that could be a bit awkward but they were all their own little rooms so I didn't have to worry about accidentally running into a naked guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1txwMupoI/AAAAAAAAA5c/g3zcdA20vmk/s1600-h/View+of+London.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1txwMupoI/AAAAAAAAA5c/g3zcdA20vmk/s320/View+of+London.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919447692617346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view of London on Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tyQMuppI/AAAAAAAAA5k/g9ONS-Y6ye4/s1600-h/View+of+London1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tyQMuppI/AAAAAAAAA5k/g9ONS-Y6ye4/s320/View+of+London1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919456282551954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of London&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tjQMupkI/AAAAAAAAA48/DAzmmps2mTk/s1600-h/London+Eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tjQMupkI/AAAAAAAAA48/DAzmmps2mTk/s320/London+Eye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919198584514114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Eye of London. This ferris wheel was built by British Airways. You pay $30 for a half hour ride. You go around once and get to have a nice aerial view of London. I figured that I'd already paid for an aerial view and I got it as we landed at Heathrow so I saved my $30 to spend on something else (like Cornish pasties ... mmmmm).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tjwMuplI/AAAAAAAAA5E/grcOEK0Mbqw/s1600-h/Pub.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tjwMuplI/AAAAAAAAA5E/grcOEK0Mbqw/s320/Pub.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919207174448722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the pub where I tried fish and chips after my tour of Westminster Abbey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tkAMupmI/AAAAAAAAA5M/t6Ic4Pd1_UY/s1600-h/Underground+sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tkAMupmI/AAAAAAAAA5M/t6Ic4Pd1_UY/s320/Underground+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919211469416034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was one of my favorite signs. I took the underground everywhere. In England, you don't take the subway, you take the "underground" or the "tube." It's such a great system. You can get anywhere on the tube. In England, a subway is a place for people to walk under the street, such as...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tkgMupnI/AAAAAAAAA5U/NYexKV-8Cco/s1600-h/View+under+bridge+to+TofL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tkgMupnI/AAAAAAAAA5U/NYexKV-8Cco/s320/View+under+bridge+to+TofL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182919220059350642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...this. This subway takes pedestrians to the Tower of London. Only pedestrians are allowed here. Aren't the paintings cool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tHQMupfI/AAAAAAAAA4U/TgTEsYZ27zc/s1600-h/Cheers+Pub.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tHQMupfI/AAAAAAAAA4U/TgTEsYZ27zc/s320/Cheers+Pub.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918717548176882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, how could I resist? Running across Cheers was fun. "Where everybody knows your name ... and they're always glad you came..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tHwMupgI/AAAAAAAAA4c/ZDw_2Q3IsWM/s1600-h/Double+Decker+Bus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tHwMupgI/AAAAAAAAA4c/ZDw_2Q3IsWM/s320/Double+Decker+Bus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918726138111490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I HAD to get a picture of the double decker bus. We took a double decker bus in York, actually, when we went to Whitby. I was glad because I never rode one here in London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tIQMuphI/AAAAAAAAA4k/Ee3CzI5vebg/s1600-h/Phonebooths.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tIQMuphI/AAAAAAAAA4k/Ee3CzI5vebg/s320/Phonebooths.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918734728046098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are the local pay phones. Aren't they charming? Everything about England is charming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tIgMupiI/AAAAAAAAA4s/4IGr66pBgHg/s1600-h/Streetsign1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tIgMupiI/AAAAAAAAA4s/4IGr66pBgHg/s320/Streetsign1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918739023013410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I figured out why people drive on the left here. They're trying to figure out how in the heck to get where they need to go. Check out that sign. I don't think I'd dare drive in London. I'd just end up going in circles and then probably end my British driving career in a head-on collision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tJgMupjI/AAAAAAAAA40/G4vXiCGPZko/s1600-h/Taxi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1tJgMupjI/AAAAAAAAA40/G4vXiCGPZko/s320/Taxi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918756202882610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The front couple of cars are taxis. Charming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1slQMupaI/AAAAAAAAA3s/sWL5EjfGcug/s1600-h/Trafalgar+Square1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1slQMupaI/AAAAAAAAA3s/sWL5EjfGcug/s320/Trafalgar+Square1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918133432624546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This monument marks Trafalgar Square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1soAMupbI/AAAAAAAAA30/SHOplmdEhsY/s1600-h/St.+Paul%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1soAMupbI/AAAAAAAAA30/SHOplmdEhsY/s320/St.+Paul%27s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918180677264818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is St. Paul's Cathedral. I went in and looked around and decided that the National Cathedral is just as impressive (even if Princess Diana was married here) and I'd rather spend more time at Westminster Abbey so I got this outside shot and moved on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sowMupcI/AAAAAAAAA38/V2nHXbidgh4/s1600-h/Westminster+Abbey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sowMupcI/AAAAAAAAA38/V2nHXbidgh4/s320/Westminster+Abbey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918193562166722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...to Westminster Abbey. This place is AMAZING!!!! It's huge and chock full of history. This is where coronations take place. This is also where kings and queens are buried. The Abbey was built in 1065. The nave is 10 stories tall, making it the tallest in England. Edward the Confessor, who built Westminster Abbey, Queen Elizabeth I, Bloody Mary, Henry VII, Elizabeth of York, Mary Queen of Scots, Geoffrey Chaucer, Lord Byron, Lewis Carroll, T.S. Eliot, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, George Frideric Handel, Charles Dickens, and Laurence Olivier are buried here. The Queen comes to worship here, every coronation since 1066 has taken place here, and funerals of royalty are held here (Princess Diana's coffin was here before her burial). There are memorials to William Shakespeare, the Royal Air Force, the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior, Winston Churchill, Isaac Newton, Michael Faraday, Charles Darwin, and Martin Luther King, Jr. Unfortunately, you aren't allowed to take photographs in Westminster Abbey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1spAMupdI/AAAAAAAAA4E/GGGRzftD-mo/s1600-h/English+Military1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1spAMupdI/AAAAAAAAA4E/GGGRzftD-mo/s320/English+Military1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918197857134034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have no idea who these guys are but they were practicing their military drills and actually kind of seemed to be showing off so I joined the throngs pressing their faces through the fence and took a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1spgMupeI/AAAAAAAAA4M/5qhO5h5bgCM/s1600-h/Houses+of+Parliament2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1spgMupeI/AAAAAAAAA4M/5qhO5h5bgCM/s320/Houses+of+Parliament2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182918206447068642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The guy in yellow is a police officer. I wanted to get a picture with a police officer but felt kind of silly asking so I took this picture under the pretense of getting the Houses of Parliament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r-wMupVI/AAAAAAAAA3E/RPkAHGG_yEc/s1600-h/Big+Ben+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r-wMupVI/AAAAAAAAA3E/RPkAHGG_yEc/s320/Big+Ben+Day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182917472007660882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Big Ben. When I saw Big Ben I finally really felt like I was in London and in England. IT WAS FREAKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Big Ben is one sight I really wanted to see. And I did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r_QMupWI/AAAAAAAAA3M/_K4UiPUJ1tw/s1600-h/Big+Ben+Clock+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r_QMupWI/AAAAAAAAA3M/_K4UiPUJ1tw/s320/Big+Ben+Clock+Day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182917480597595490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the clock face of Big Ben. "Westminster Abbey, the Tower of Big Ben, the rosy red cheeks of the little children"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r_gMupXI/AAAAAAAAA3U/jAJqi3q9Xeo/s1600-h/Houses+of+Parliament.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1r_gMupXI/AAAAAAAAA3U/jAJqi3q9Xeo/s320/Houses+of+Parliament.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182917484892562802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are the Houses of Parliament on the banks of the Thames. WOW!!!!!!!! I was really there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sAAMupYI/AAAAAAAAA3c/3eFNIT4HMTk/s1600-h/Houses+of+Parliament+at+Night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sAAMupYI/AAAAAAAAA3c/3eFNIT4HMTk/s320/Houses+of+Parliament+at+Night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182917493482497410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love this picture. It's the Houses of Parliament at night from across the Thames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sAgMupZI/AAAAAAAAA3k/OU7m-uHr_A4/s1600-h/London+Bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1sAgMupZI/AAAAAAAAA3k/OU7m-uHr_A4/s320/London+Bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182917502072432018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is London Bridge. Since it has a whole song about it, you'd think it'd be grander, wouldn't you? But here it is. A lot of people think the Tower Bridge is London Bridge, but it isn't. This is the real London Bridge. (You're all singing "London Bridge is falling down," aren't you?) :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8960914877481354005?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8960914877481354005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8960914877481354005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8960914877481354005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8960914877481354005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/london.html' title='London'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1vOwMuprI/AAAAAAAAA50/7RbEin5TgFQ/s72-c/Hostel+%281%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5197966314865915501</id><published>2008-03-28T14:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T15:04:26.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tower of London</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My first stop in London after church on Sunday was the Tower of London. Again, I went here on a suggestion. Thank you, Nathaniel. I probably would have ended up here, but I wouldn't have seen nearly as much as I did. The Tower of London is quite the place. This is where some very famous people were imprisoned and killed. If you were sent to the Tower of London, it was most likely a death sentence. Very few prisoners left here alive. Despite its bloody, gory history, nowadays this is where the crown jewels are kept. SO COOL!!! It was totally worth coming here just to see those. You aren't allowed to take pictures, but as you're waiting to get in to see them, they play a video of the Queen's coronation. I didn't realize how simple our ceremonies are. Talk about pomp and circumstance!! There were ladies in waiting dressed in white and men dressed in Victorian clothing - complete with powdered wigs. It was like stepping back in time. She had on a trailing cloak and she was given a scepter and they put the crown on her head and it looked really heavy. I'm glad she doesn't have to wear it everyday. Anyway, if you go to London this is a must see! I've posted some pictures of things I was allowed to photograph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mGwMupRI/AAAAAAAAA2k/xf_Lw1JW0GM/s1600-h/Tower+of+London.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mGwMupRI/AAAAAAAAA2k/xf_Lw1JW0GM/s320/Tower+of+London.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182911012376847634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Tower of London&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mHAMupSI/AAAAAAAAA2s/5lUQm9ys9d8/s1600-h/Moat+TofL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mHAMupSI/AAAAAAAAA2s/5lUQm9ys9d8/s320/Moat+TofL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182911016671814946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The moat that surrounds the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mHgMupTI/AAAAAAAAA20/EFAL7Yd5oFs/s1600-h/TofL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mHgMupTI/AAAAAAAAA20/EFAL7Yd5oFs/s320/TofL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182911025261749554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The wall around the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mIAMupUI/AAAAAAAAA28/95YZ5s3BYNQ/s1600-h/TofL1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mIAMupUI/AAAAAAAAA28/95YZ5s3BYNQ/s320/TofL1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182911033851684162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l0AMupOI/AAAAAAAAA2M/T9Z9OGSGVH0/s1600-h/TofL-Royal+Bedchamber.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l0AMupOI/AAAAAAAAA2M/T9Z9OGSGVH0/s320/TofL-Royal+Bedchamber.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910690254300386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Medieval Palace. This is where the royal family slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l0QMupPI/AAAAAAAAA2U/Sm_dbohgd7I/s1600-h/TofL-Throne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l0QMupPI/AAAAAAAAA2U/Sm_dbohgd7I/s320/TofL-Throne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910694549267698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is where King Henry VIII sat his bloody behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l1AMupQI/AAAAAAAAA2c/hVfQkeYOb_w/s1600-h/TofL-Worship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1l1AMupQI/AAAAAAAAA2c/hVfQkeYOb_w/s320/TofL-Worship.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910707434169602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is where Henry begged forgiveness for killing everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lZgMupJI/AAAAAAAAA1k/C4LEb9mt17I/s1600-h/TofL-Queens+Houses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lZgMupJI/AAAAAAAAA1k/C4LEb9mt17I/s320/TofL-Queens+Houses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910234987766930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the Queen's House. I believe that the green lawn in front is where people were beheaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1laQMupKI/AAAAAAAAA1s/8Y3oXMZZZag/s1600-h/TofL-Ravens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1laQMupKI/AAAAAAAAA1s/8Y3oXMZZZag/s320/TofL-Ravens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910247872668834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are the famous ravens of the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lagMupLI/AAAAAAAAA10/ELKbS6SfsGU/s1600-h/TofL-Russian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lagMupLI/AAAAAAAAA10/ELKbS6SfsGU/s320/TofL-Russian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910252167636146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This sign is in Russian, so naturally, I had to take a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lbAMupMI/AAAAAAAAA18/k71bvqFOjBo/s1600-h/TofL-Toilet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lbAMupMI/AAAAAAAAA18/k71bvqFOjBo/s320/TofL-Toilet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910260757570754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A toilet. I've seen worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lbQMupNI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qDXtmwfWTQc/s1600-h/TofL-Cool+Lion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1lbQMupNI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qDXtmwfWTQc/s320/TofL-Cool+Lion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182910265052538066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This lion was cool. I believe the lion was also the symbol of Richard IIIs reign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kvwMupFI/AAAAAAAAA1E/-xMAeuCTMsE/s1600-h/TofL-Henry+VIII+Crest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kvwMupFI/AAAAAAAAA1E/-xMAeuCTMsE/s320/TofL-Henry+VIII+Crest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909517728228434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This crest is cool, so I took a picture and put it on here for your viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kwAMupGI/AAAAAAAAA1M/LayWWe8w3So/s1600-h/TofL-Inscription4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kwAMupGI/AAAAAAAAA1M/LayWWe8w3So/s320/TofL-Inscription4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909522023195746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Prisoners in the Tower of London would inscribe notes, bible verses, thoughts, pictures, whatever they felt like, really, on the walls of the Tower while they were waiting to be executed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kwgMupHI/AAAAAAAAA1U/JkRHh9kcKSs/s1600-h/TofL-Moat+Gate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kwgMupHI/AAAAAAAAA1U/JkRHh9kcKSs/s320/TofL-Moat+Gate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909530613130354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is how they let people into the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kxQMupII/AAAAAAAAA1c/FeejSeFlvuI/s1600-h/TofL-Traitor%27s+Gate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kxQMupII/AAAAAAAAA1c/FeejSeFlvuI/s320/TofL-Traitor%27s+Gate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909543498032258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Prisoners were brought by boat through here: Traitor's Gate. Elizabeth I was brought here before she became Queen. Her mother, Anne Boleyn, was executed here. Elizabeth was one of the very few lucky ones to leave alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kQwMuo_I/AAAAAAAAA0U/apC0LAhxV50/s1600-h/TofL-Arsenal5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kQwMuo_I/AAAAAAAAA0U/apC0LAhxV50/s320/TofL-Arsenal5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182908985152283634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wanted a picture of this suit of armour and those dang people WOULD NOT MOVE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kRgMupAI/AAAAAAAAA0c/7mgJL1dhor4/s1600-h/TofL-Arsenal9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kRgMupAI/AAAAAAAAA0c/7mgJL1dhor4/s320/TofL-Arsenal9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182908998037185538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were floors of weapons that they used during the time the Tower of London was used actively. I decided not to post 18 pictures and just posted this one as a representative of the weapons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kRwMupBI/AAAAAAAAA0k/g_bxlyNh-Ec/s1600-h/TofL-Chopping+Block1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kRwMupBI/AAAAAAAAA0k/g_bxlyNh-Ec/s320/TofL-Chopping+Block1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909002332152850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aaaahhh ... the chopping block. This used to be on the execution site (remember the green lawn?) but it has been moved into the White Tower.  I'm really glad we don't do public beheadings - or any beheadings, for that matter - anymore. Gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kSQMupCI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U8GCVi8N_6U/s1600-h/TofL-Chapel1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kSQMupCI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U8GCVi8N_6U/s320/TofL-Chapel1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909010922087458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This church was pretty so I took a picture. I was surprised that there was a church here. Well, not really surprised, I guess, but it does seem strange that you'd have a church and an execution site housed all cozy in the same tower. Kill them off then ask for forgiveness maybe???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kSwMupDI/AAAAAAAAA00/tMtXKQ4jbPQ/s1600-h/TofL-Guard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1kSwMupDI/AAAAAAAAA00/tMtXKQ4jbPQ/s320/TofL-Guard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182909019512022066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This guard was guarding ... well, something important, I'm sure ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jbwMuo8I/AAAAAAAAAz8/VbrHxlUh5C8/s1600-h/TofL-Roman+Wall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jbwMuo8I/AAAAAAAAAz8/VbrHxlUh5C8/s320/TofL-Roman+Wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182908074619216834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a really very extremely old wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jcQMuo9I/AAAAAAAAA0E/CrYvlJGn38w/s1600-h/Tower+Bridge1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jcQMuo9I/AAAAAAAAA0E/CrYvlJGn38w/s320/Tower+Bridge1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182908083209151442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Tower Bridge, not to be confused with London Bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jcwMuo-I/AAAAAAAAA0M/egeUPpvJXSY/s1600-h/Tower+Bridge+and+Thames.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1jcwMuo-I/AAAAAAAAA0M/egeUPpvJXSY/s320/Tower+Bridge+and+Thames.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182908091799086050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the River Thames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5197966314865915501?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5197966314865915501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5197966314865915501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5197966314865915501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5197966314865915501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/tower-of-london.html' title='The Tower of London'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1mGwMupRI/AAAAAAAAA2k/xf_Lw1JW0GM/s72-c/Tower+of+London.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7782342594477296777</id><published>2008-03-28T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T14:26:14.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buckingham Palace</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ready to be impressed? I thought we had a lot of traditions and big buildings in DC. I stand corrected. Buckingham Palace is HUGE. I couldn't fit it into one picture - not even standing across the street! It's very grand and elegant. I liked being here and seeing it. Some important people drove in while I was there so we had to wait to cross the street while whatever VIPs were pulling into the palace driveway/parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hvgMuo6I/AAAAAAAAAzs/rl_0kmnOqkk/s1600-h/Buckingham+Palace6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hvgMuo6I/AAAAAAAAAzs/rl_0kmnOqkk/s320/Buckingham+Palace6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182906214898377634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The gates the lead you onto the grounds of Buckingham Palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hwAMuo7I/AAAAAAAAAz0/WjesOh7gQ6c/s1600-h/St.+James+Park.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hwAMuo7I/AAAAAAAAAz0/WjesOh7gQ6c/s320/St.+James+Park.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182906223488312242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;St. James Park borders the grounds of Buckingham Palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hfgMuo1I/AAAAAAAAAzE/JghnDQNRuqc/s1600-h/Buckingham+Palace4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hfgMuo1I/AAAAAAAAAzE/JghnDQNRuqc/s320/Buckingham+Palace4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182905940020470610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Buckingham Palace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hhgMuo2I/AAAAAAAAAzM/0evVPQ7l944/s1600-h/Buckingham+Palace3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hhgMuo2I/AAAAAAAAAzM/0evVPQ7l944/s320/Buckingham+Palace3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182905974380208994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The gates that would actually allow you to approach the Palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hiwMuo3I/AAAAAAAAAzU/-knX-lTqREE/s1600-h/Buckingham+Palace2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hiwMuo3I/AAAAAAAAAzU/-knX-lTqREE/s320/Buckingham+Palace2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182905995855045490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The guys that will shoot you if you try to approach the palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hjwMuo4I/AAAAAAAAAzc/eRGB5baMr3E/s1600-h/Buckingham+Palace5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hjwMuo4I/AAAAAAAAAzc/eRGB5baMr3E/s320/Buckingham+Palace5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182906013034914690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The cool statue atop the cool monument across the street but still on the grounds of Buckingham Palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hkQMuo5I/AAAAAAAAAzk/6oM1bqxtCJI/s1600-h/Queen%27s+Flag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hkQMuo5I/AAAAAAAAAzk/6oM1bqxtCJI/s320/Queen%27s+Flag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182906021624849298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Queen's Flag, I believe. If I understood correctly, this flag is flown when the Queen is at Buckingham Palace. If she is away, they fly the regular British flag. Kind of like a flag is flown over the White House if the President is there and isn't if he's away. Funny how many of our traditions have survived our long separation from England.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7782342594477296777?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7782342594477296777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7782342594477296777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7782342594477296777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7782342594477296777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/buckingham-palace.html' title='Buckingham Palace'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1hvgMuo6I/AAAAAAAAAzs/rl_0kmnOqkk/s72-c/Buckingham+Palace6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3434173538559603013</id><published>2008-03-28T13:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T14:17:44.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The British Museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Before I left for England, I was talking to my friend Mike who lived in England for two years and I was asking him for suggestions about what to see while I was here. He suggested the British Museum. I'm SO glad he did!! I would have bypassed it and I would have really been missing out. There is some very cool stuff here. I saw stuff I didn't think I would see in my lifetime - ever - let alone see in London. Anyway, my only regret is that I didn't have more time to spend here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aUwMuoyI/AAAAAAAAAys/5mOmDGD-HMI/s1600-h/British+Museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aUwMuoyI/AAAAAAAAAys/5mOmDGD-HMI/s320/British+Museum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182898058755482402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The museum was doing a special display on China. These little earthy guys were just cool. They were out in the lobby as a draw to get you into the exhibit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aVAMuozI/AAAAAAAAAy0/B9g9vsSSk7Q/s1600-h/British+Museum1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aVAMuozI/AAAAAAAAAy0/B9g9vsSSk7Q/s320/British+Museum1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182898063050449714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a closeup of my little clay friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aVwMuo0I/AAAAAAAAAy8/HSA2-cKDfYk/s1600-h/British+Museum2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aVwMuo0I/AAAAAAAAAy8/HSA2-cKDfYk/s320/British+Museum2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182898075935351618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This statue was in the lobby of the museum. The picture doesn't show how big, old, and cool he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aCQMuotI/AAAAAAAAAyE/Ho7PlKkqsD8/s1600-h/BM-Parthenon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aCQMuotI/AAAAAAAAAyE/Ho7PlKkqsD8/s320/BM-Parthenon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897740927902418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nereid Monument and a Very Bored Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aCgMuouI/AAAAAAAAAyM/PjlGU6d0fVQ/s1600-h/BM-Greek+Frieze1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aCgMuouI/AAAAAAAAAyM/PjlGU6d0fVQ/s320/BM-Greek+Frieze1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897745222869730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Metopes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aDAMuovI/AAAAAAAAAyU/oA2_5Pb3qvA/s1600-h/BM-Elgin+Marbles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aDAMuovI/AAAAAAAAAyU/oA2_5Pb3qvA/s320/BM-Elgin+Marbles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897753812804338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Pediment Sculptures. These sculptures were originally in the triangular pediment above the columns at the Parthenon's main entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aDgMuowI/AAAAAAAAAyc/MPkDInB6SNg/s1600-h/BM-Egypt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aDgMuowI/AAAAAAAAAyc/MPkDInB6SNg/s320/BM-Egypt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897762402738946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Welcome to Egypt.&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aEAMuoxI/AAAAAAAAAyk/frNKgXFkxHU/s1600-h/BM-Beard+of+the+Sphynx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aEAMuoxI/AAAAAAAAAyk/frNKgXFkxHU/s320/BM-Beard+of+the+Sphynx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897770992673554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A limestone fragment of the Beard of the Sphinx. The Great Sphinx is near the Great Pyramids in Cairo. This is part of its beard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZcQMuooI/AAAAAAAAAxc/qroqeykNbAs/s1600-h/BM-Rosetta+Stone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZcQMuooI/AAAAAAAAAxc/qroqeykNbAs/s320/BM-Rosetta+Stone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897088092873346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, all you linguists, get excited! This is the Rosetta Stone!! WOW!!!!!!! Okay, so I never thought I would actually see the Rosetta Stone. How cool is that?!? The inscriptions on the Rosetta Stone are the same passage written in three different languages. The top third is hieroglyphics, the middle third is medieval Egyptian, and the bottom third is Greek. At last! Linguists could finally read hieroglyphics. They had already figured a few things out about hieroglyphics when this stone was discovered in 1799 but when linguists figured out how to read "Ptolemy" they had finally cracked hieroglyphics. Incidentally, this stone is dated back to 196 B.C. Honestly, by the time I left England, if you told me something dated from 1750, I thought, "Oh, it's new!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZdQMuopI/AAAAAAAAAxk/SVK9tIRtgMU/s1600-h/BM-Ramses+II.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZdQMuopI/AAAAAAAAAxk/SVK9tIRtgMU/s320/BM-Ramses+II.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897105272742546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Ramses. He's imposing. And it's just his top half. The rest of him is lying near a temple in Thebes. Okay, I don't know if they left the rest of him there, but that's where they found him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZeAMuoqI/AAAAAAAAAxs/ns_KsCvIXrA/s1600-h/BM-Mummies1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZeAMuoqI/AAAAAAAAAxs/ns_KsCvIXrA/s320/BM-Mummies1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897118157644450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mummies ... ooooh, creepy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZegMuorI/AAAAAAAAAx0/_VOthrS1tZ8/s1600-h/BM-Ginger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZegMuorI/AAAAAAAAAx0/_VOthrS1tZ8/s320/BM-Ginger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897126747579058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This guy is Ginger. He died 5, 400 years ago. He's old. He was named Ginger because he still had wisps of red hair on his head. Ironically, rich people paid a lot of money to be mummified and this guy got mummified for free. How economical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZfAMuosI/AAAAAAAAAx8/iw8Wwyydhr8/s1600-h/BM-Assyrian+Winged+Lions.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1ZfAMuosI/AAAAAAAAAx8/iw8Wwyydhr8/s320/BM-Assyrian+Winged+Lions.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182897135337513666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This lion guarded an Assyrian palace. He's really the only picture I took of the Assyrian exhibit because my batteries were dying and I wanted to get pictures of the Greek stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3434173538559603013?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3434173538559603013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3434173538559603013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3434173538559603013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3434173538559603013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/british-museum.html' title='The British Museum'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1aUwMuoyI/AAAAAAAAAys/5mOmDGD-HMI/s72-c/British+Museum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4061737047917054757</id><published>2008-03-28T13:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T13:44:29.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hyde Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, on Sunday night I went to Hyde Park. I really wanted to see Speaker's Corner. Hyde Park was actually one of my favorite sites in London because of all the history associated with my church and its growth and missionary efforts. I spent a little time just hanging back and watching everyone interacting and sharing their thoughts and beliefs. I pondered all the amazing people who had done missionary work and changed people's lives at the spot I was standing on. It was a real privilege to me to be able to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XegMuonI/AAAAAAAAAxU/qH4SEB5vb-U/s1600-h/Speaker%27s+Corner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XegMuonI/AAAAAAAAAxU/qH4SEB5vb-U/s320/Speaker%27s+Corner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894927724323442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Speaker's Corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XLAMuoiI/AAAAAAAAAws/zOFrSBrn5TM/s1600-h/Hyde+Park.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XLAMuoiI/AAAAAAAAAws/zOFrSBrn5TM/s320/Hyde+Park.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894592716874274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a view of Hyde Park. I tried to get the people playing football (which would be soccer for us Americans) but they didn't show up very well because it was dusk at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XLgMuojI/AAAAAAAAAw0/hU5B_tt4kic/s1600-h/Hyde+Park2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XLgMuojI/AAAAAAAAAw0/hU5B_tt4kic/s320/Hyde+Park2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894601306808882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a view a little further away of Speaker's Corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMAMuokI/AAAAAAAAAw8/5lO8gsCi8Ac/s1600-h/Hyde+Park5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMAMuokI/AAAAAAAAAw8/5lO8gsCi8Ac/s320/Hyde+Park5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894609896743490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a pond in Hyde Park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMgMuolI/AAAAAAAAAxE/H5NrVkKHveA/s1600-h/Hyde+Park-Ducks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMgMuolI/AAAAAAAAAxE/H5NrVkKHveA/s320/Hyde+Park-Ducks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894618486678098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is kind of dark but these are ducks. I'd never seen ducks that look like these before. All I'd ever seen were Mallard ducks so I had to get a picture of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMwMuomI/AAAAAAAAAxM/X73vpasjm5g/s1600-h/Hyde+Park8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XMwMuomI/AAAAAAAAAxM/X73vpasjm5g/s320/Hyde+Park8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182894622781645410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This garden was much, much, much, much prettier in real life. But it is still pretty, even in a picture taken at dusk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4061737047917054757?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4061737047917054757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4061737047917054757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4061737047917054757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4061737047917054757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/hyde-park.html' title='Hyde Park'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1XegMuonI/AAAAAAAAAxU/qH4SEB5vb-U/s72-c/Speaker%27s+Corner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-9114453534354162929</id><published>2008-03-28T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T13:35:20.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stick to your ticket</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Welcome to King's Cross station. Yep, the real King's Cross. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts Express had already left, but I was still able to get a picture of the bridge and a trolley. And it was SO COOL to be here! I couldn't believe I was seeing the bridge Harry and Hagrid crossed when Harry was on his way to catch his train at Platform 9 3/4. If you don't know what I'm talking about,  shame shame shame!! You need to catch up on your movies!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VwgMuofI/AAAAAAAAAwU/sKriHw8IlJ8/s1600-h/King%27s+Cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VwgMuofI/AAAAAAAAAwU/sKriHw8IlJ8/s320/King%27s+Cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182893037938713074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, the bridge Harry and Hagrid crossed. I walked across it, too, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VwwMuogI/AAAAAAAAAwc/B0T3IHXrSzo/s1600-h/King%27s+Cross1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VwwMuogI/AAAAAAAAAwc/B0T3IHXrSzo/s320/King%27s+Cross1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182893042233680386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Someone abandoned his trolley halfway through the platform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VxAMuohI/AAAAAAAAAwk/U2OfduFBvGA/s1600-h/King%27s+Cross2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VxAMuohI/AAAAAAAAAwk/U2OfduFBvGA/s320/King%27s+Cross2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182893046528647698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Further proof that that trolley is on its way to Platform 9 3/4. I love Harry Potter!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-9114453534354162929?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/9114453534354162929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=9114453534354162929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9114453534354162929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/9114453534354162929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/stick-to-your-ticket.html' title='Stick to your ticket'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1VwgMuofI/AAAAAAAAAwU/sKriHw8IlJ8/s72-c/King%27s+Cross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1583132591635535834</id><published>2008-03-28T12:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T13:30:34.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>York</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On Monday night I left London from King's Cross station and took the 19:00 train to York, about two hours by train from London. I love trains! They're so fun! I miss the great public transportation that would get you anywhere you need to go! I've probably already said that, but it's just so convenient! Anyway, I loved York! It's a city of about 250,000 but it doesn't feel very big. My dear friend Jan lives in York. She's a student at the university working on her PhD. She  took me in and fed me and gave me a place to stay and even had time to come on a couple of  adventures with me! We had SO much fun and it was great to get to see her and spend some time with her. Before I went to England, I bought a York Pass and I'm so glad I did! While Jan was studying, I was able to explore the city. The pass got me into basically everything I wanted to see. It was worth every pound! (Just a little tip for any of you considering visiting York, which I would HIGHLY recommend!) I spent two great days wandering around the historic part of York, eating Cornish pasties, and having a wonderful time! I learned that the people in York are very proud of their ghosts. York is supposed to be one of the most haunted places in England - maybe in the world, I don't remember. Anyway, at one point they had 140 ghosts and then some ghost experts came in and said they actually had 500 ghosts. The people don't know where all the ghosts came from , but they welcomed them to their city. Jan and I took a ghost walk on Wednesday night. It was really fun. Our guide was dressed in time period clothing and was very funny and charming. We had a great time! On Tuesday, we walked around the York wall and saw the city from up high. Here are pictures of some of the things I saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PTAMuoaI/AAAAAAAAAvs/j00TjK9qsgw/s1600-h/York+wall1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PTAMuoaI/AAAAAAAAAvs/j00TjK9qsgw/s320/York+wall1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885934062805410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the wall that surrounds the city of York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PTgMuobI/AAAAAAAAAv0/QHDXqt1WRUs/s1600-h/York+Ruins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PTgMuobI/AAAAAAAAAv0/QHDXqt1WRUs/s320/York+Ruins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885942652740018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are some of the ancient Roman ruins that are everywhere in England - and especially in York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUAMuocI/AAAAAAAAAv8/GT5Sc4OW3yc/s1600-h/York+Minster+from+the+wall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUAMuocI/AAAAAAAAAv8/GT5Sc4OW3yc/s320/York+Minster+from+the+wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885951242674626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a picture of York Minster from the city wall. I got this pictures when Jan and I were taking our walk around the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUQMuodI/AAAAAAAAAwE/DHW6riFhsWQ/s1600-h/York+wall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUQMuodI/AAAAAAAAAwE/DHW6riFhsWQ/s320/York+wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885955537641938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a view of the city through the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUwMuoeI/AAAAAAAAAwM/5Y3cPhuZcl8/s1600-h/York+wall2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PUwMuoeI/AAAAAAAAAwM/5Y3cPhuZcl8/s320/York+wall2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885964127576546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a picture of the top of the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OmQMuoVI/AAAAAAAAAvE/xJLc4pyxrBQ/s1600-h/The+Shambles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OmQMuoVI/AAAAAAAAAvE/xJLc4pyxrBQ/s320/The+Shambles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885165263659346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, the streets were SO cute! They looked like something out of Pride and Prejudice or North and South.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OnAMuoWI/AAAAAAAAAvM/iNiOR53_JAE/s1600-h/The+Shambles1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OnAMuoWI/AAAAAAAAAvM/iNiOR53_JAE/s320/The+Shambles1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885178148561250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As you can see, I love the streets. Aren't they charming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OnQMuoXI/AAAAAAAAAvU/CAZU5-VLlS0/s1600-h/Town+square.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OnQMuoXI/AAAAAAAAAvU/CAZU5-VLlS0/s320/Town+square.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885182443528562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of the town squares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OoQMuoYI/AAAAAAAAAvc/vrY-NTWlSwY/s1600-h/York1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OoQMuoYI/AAAAAAAAAvc/vrY-NTWlSwY/s320/York1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885199623397762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the Shambles. The Shambles are featured in a lot of movies made by BBC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OowMuoZI/AAAAAAAAAvk/g2hvt_AT0Os/s1600-h/York3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OowMuoZI/AAAAAAAAAvk/g2hvt_AT0Os/s320/York3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182885208213332370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is another view of the Shambles from the other end of the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OAQMuoQI/AAAAAAAAAuc/svpsKMWNFss/s1600-h/York+Bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OAQMuoQI/AAAAAAAAAuc/svpsKMWNFss/s320/York+Bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182884512428630274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of the bridges that crosses the River Ouse (pronounced "ooze").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OAwMuoRI/AAAAAAAAAuk/O1_Y-CP9Bfg/s1600-h/Fairfax+House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OAwMuoRI/AAAAAAAAAuk/O1_Y-CP9Bfg/s320/Fairfax+House.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182884521018564882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Fairfax House. I had to include this pictures because when I toured the house (I couldn't take pictures of the inside) the tour guides went wild when they found out that I was visiting from Fairfax County, Virginia. They had all been on a tour here to Fairfax County and had loved it! As for me, it was really cool to see the relatives of the Fairfaxes here in Virginia. It was cool to see where they originally came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OBAMuoSI/AAAAAAAAAus/8OmtUjbap_M/s1600-h/Teeny+tiny+stairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OBAMuoSI/AAAAAAAAAus/8OmtUjbap_M/s320/Teeny+tiny+stairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182884525313532194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's hard to tell from this picture, but these steps are TINY!!! And by TINY I mean ITSY BITSY and TEENY. Only half my foot fit on the stairs so I navigated them VERY carefully!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OBgMuoTI/AAAAAAAAAu0/AbcV9kVLJn0/s1600-h/Roman+Baths5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OBgMuoTI/AAAAAAAAAu0/AbcV9kVLJn0/s320/Roman+Baths5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182884533903466802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are the Roman baths. The owner of the pub above the baths decided that he needed more room and so he decided to build a cellar. As they started expanding, they uncovered these baths. Now he charges people to come in and see real Roman baths so he's probably making a nice profit off his basement. But the poor man still doesn't have a cellar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OCAMuoUI/AAAAAAAAAu8/nI52eaRWYH4/s1600-h/Roman+Baths4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1OCAMuoUI/AAAAAAAAAu8/nI52eaRWYH4/s320/Roman+Baths4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182884542493401410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Roman toilet paper. No, I'm not kidding. Makes you grateful for Charmin, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVAMuoLI/AAAAAAAAAt0/vcupM3O0vCc/s1600-h/Cobblestone+street.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVAMuoLI/AAAAAAAAAt0/vcupM3O0vCc/s320/Cobblestone+street.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182883769399287986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, the streets are cobblestone. They're very pretty and very slick when it rains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVgMuoMI/AAAAAAAAAt8/zuDR9DH0ueA/s1600-h/Bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVgMuoMI/AAAAAAAAAt8/zuDR9DH0ueA/s320/Bathroom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182883777989222594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a toilet. I'm grateful for indoor plumbing. That would be really cold in 0 degree weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVwMuoNI/AAAAAAAAAuE/QMgC6b2RGD0/s1600-h/Intersection.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NVwMuoNI/AAAAAAAAAuE/QMgC6b2RGD0/s320/Intersection.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182883782284189906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, I love to see subtle differences in American and other cultures. Yes, this is a picture of an ordinary intersection. But it's differences like this that remind me that we're not the only country and there are many ways of accomplishing the same goal. And one way isn't better than the other. And that's my ethics lesson for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NWQMuoOI/AAAAAAAAAuM/zvfJLFa4rmI/s1600-h/Mr.+Thornton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NWQMuoOI/AAAAAAAAAuM/zvfJLFa4rmI/s320/Mr.+Thornton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182883790874124514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bronwyn, this one's for you. No, seriously, I took this pictures specifically for you. Anyone else that has seen North and South can also appreciate this sign. For those of you that haven't seen North and South, shame on you! Rent it today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NWgMuoPI/AAAAAAAAAuU/FFDP0QdRYLM/s1600-h/Signs+to+different+sites.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1NWgMuoPI/AAAAAAAAAuU/FFDP0QdRYLM/s320/Signs+to+different+sites.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182883795169091826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You could follow these signs to find different historical sites located throughout York. Unfortunately, you were more likely to get lost following these signs than you were to get where you were trying to go. But it was a thoughtful gesture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1583132591635535834?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1583132591635535834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1583132591635535834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1583132591635535834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1583132591635535834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/york.html' title='York'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-1PTAMuoaI/AAAAAAAAAvs/j00TjK9qsgw/s72-c/York+wall1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4622986190801255255</id><published>2008-03-25T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T18:34:15.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>York Minster</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is York Minster. It is at the center of town and makes an excellent landmark which is really good because it saved me from getting lost on my first day in York. The Minster is a beautiful building. In addition to the main floor there is a crypt in the basement but you can't take pictures down there, which is a real shame because there's some amazing stuff down there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlvAMuoHI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Y0tfdCnG2RA/s1600-h/York+Minster12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlvAMuoHI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Y0tfdCnG2RA/s320/York+Minster12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181855073192288370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is York Minster from the outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlvgMuoII/AAAAAAAAAs8/kx-RKl4fJ2Y/s1600-h/York+Minster6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlvgMuoII/AAAAAAAAAs8/kx-RKl4fJ2Y/s320/York+Minster6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181855081782222978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is York Minster from the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlwAMuoJI/AAAAAAAAAtE/xAgjv0cwZaA/s1600-h/York+Minster4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlwAMuoJI/AAAAAAAAAtE/xAgjv0cwZaA/s320/York+Minster4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181855090372157586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of the beautiful stained glass windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlwgMuoKI/AAAAAAAAAtM/LEGD_WxCB_A/s1600-h/York+Minster9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlwgMuoKI/AAAAAAAAAtM/LEGD_WxCB_A/s320/York+Minster9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181855098962092194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a row of kings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlOAMuoCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/fagf9oeO19g/s1600-h/York+Minster11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlOAMuoCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/fagf9oeO19g/s320/York+Minster11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181854506256605218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is another view of the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlOwMuoDI/AAAAAAAAAsU/cyo9m1SMLWY/s1600-h/York+Minster1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlOwMuoDI/AAAAAAAAAsU/cyo9m1SMLWY/s320/York+Minster1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181854519141507122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The stained glass windows are beautiful. I think York Minster is actually famous for its stained glass. If I remember right, it's the oldest stained glass in Europe or in England. Or both. A lot of the stained glass tells Bible stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlPgMuoEI/AAAAAAAAAsc/uGsVVb_50f8/s1600-h/York+Minster7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlPgMuoEI/AAAAAAAAAsc/uGsVVb_50f8/s320/York+Minster7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181854532026409026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view. There was a youth choir here while I was touring. They sang for us and it was lovely. It was weird, though. On Tuesday, while I was touring around in the Minster, I heard a dog barking. I thought it was strange because I didn't think they would allow dogs in the Minster. Turns out I was right. Well, Jan and I took a ghost tour on Wednesday night and I found out that as a joke, the workers building the minster built up the walls around their supervisor's dog. Except they forgot to go back and get the dog. The story is that the ghost of the dog is waiting for his master to come get him. Rumors have it that people have claimed to hear a dog barking in the Minster. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlQQMuoFI/AAAAAAAAAsk/VNaxBhDV0tE/s1600-h/York+Minster10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlQQMuoFI/AAAAAAAAAsk/VNaxBhDV0tE/s320/York+Minster10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181854544911310930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of the inside of this beautiful building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlQgMuoGI/AAAAAAAAAss/jySRtbnT7B4/s1600-h/York+Minster2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlQgMuoGI/AAAAAAAAAss/jySRtbnT7B4/s320/York+Minster2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181854549206278242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the ceiling. The have a mirror that you can look into so you don't have to crane your neck to appreciate this fine architecture. I craned my neck so I could get this lovely picture for all of you to enjoy. You're welcome. It was a pleasure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4622986190801255255?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4622986190801255255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4622986190801255255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4622986190801255255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4622986190801255255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/york-minster.html' title='York Minster'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mlvAMuoHI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Y0tfdCnG2RA/s72-c/York+Minster12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5371513358015202706</id><published>2008-03-25T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T18:18:30.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clifford's Tower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjbwMun-I/AAAAAAAAArs/3SNA2P3UM4Q/s1600-h/Cliffords+Tower.jpg"&gt;One of the famous sites in York is Clifford's Tower. Clifford's Tower was originally part of a castle built by the Romans. One of its most tragic stories involves a group of Jews who were being persecuted. They barricaded themselves inside the tower. When they realized that they weren't going to escape, rather than fall into the hands of the Romans, they committed suicide. The few that survived were later executed by the Romans. &lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjbwMun-I/AAAAAAAAArs/3SNA2P3UM4Q/s320/Cliffords+Tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852543456550882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a view of the Tower from the base.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjcQMun_I/AAAAAAAAAr0/lJGWYNGCKP0/s1600-h/Cliffords+Tower3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjcQMun_I/AAAAAAAAAr0/lJGWYNGCKP0/s320/Cliffords+Tower3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852552046485490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view inside the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjdAMuoAI/AAAAAAAAAr8/ObNu4ZZhfks/s1600-h/Cliffords+Tower4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjdAMuoAI/AAAAAAAAAr8/ObNu4ZZhfks/s320/Cliffords+Tower4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852564931387394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view inside the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjdQMuoBI/AAAAAAAAAsE/qclvUFr-vdQ/s1600-h/Cliffords+Tower5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjdQMuoBI/AAAAAAAAAsE/qclvUFr-vdQ/s320/Cliffords+Tower5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852569226354706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view from the top looking down into the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi7QMun5I/AAAAAAAAArE/fgdgzSpixsA/s1600-h/Cliffords+Tower6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi7QMun5I/AAAAAAAAArE/fgdgzSpixsA/s320/Cliffords+Tower6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181851985110802322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wow. I didn't realize I had put so many views of the inside of the tower on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi7wMun6I/AAAAAAAAArM/xPXPgBn3Zho/s1600-h/Model+of+Cliffords+Tower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi7wMun6I/AAAAAAAAArM/xPXPgBn3Zho/s320/Model+of+Cliffords+Tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181851993700736930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A model of Clifford's Tower and it's adjoining castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi8QMun7I/AAAAAAAAArU/tELutT7zXto/s1600-h/View+from+Cliffords+Tower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi8QMun7I/AAAAAAAAArU/tELutT7zXto/s320/View+from+Cliffords+Tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852002290671538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view of York from Clifford's Tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi8gMun8I/AAAAAAAAArc/oLzaVxVtrLw/s1600-h/View+from+Cliffords+Tower2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi8gMun8I/AAAAAAAAArc/oLzaVxVtrLw/s320/View+from+Cliffords+Tower2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852006585638850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A different view of York from the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi9AMun9I/AAAAAAAAArk/EDb5HSitDdE/s1600-h/View+from+Cliffords+Tower6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mi9AMun9I/AAAAAAAAArk/EDb5HSitDdE/s320/View+from+Cliffords+Tower6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181852015175573458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of York from the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5371513358015202706?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5371513358015202706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5371513358015202706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5371513358015202706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5371513358015202706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/cliffords-tower.html' title='Clifford&apos;s Tower'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mjbwMun-I/AAAAAAAAArs/3SNA2P3UM4Q/s72-c/Cliffords+Tower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4989975123888714065</id><published>2008-03-25T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T18:08:14.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Castle Museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfJgMun0I/AAAAAAAAAqc/ske79_QOq8o/s1600-h/Castle+Museum25.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;This is the Castle Museum and for some reason my font is suddenly blue and underlined.  Weird. And annoying. Sorry about this.  So, across from Clifford's Tower is the Castle Museum where the castle that Clifford's Tower was part of originally was built. The museum houses artifacts from England's history and covers everything from the Roman invasion up to today. These are just some of the pictures I got in the museum that will give you a taste of what I saw.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfJgMun0I/AAAAAAAAAqc/ske79_QOq8o/s320/Castle+Museum25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847831877427010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A coach and driver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfJwMun1I/AAAAAAAAAqk/uZ9C1gkF1Ao/s1600-h/Castle+Museum22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfJwMun1I/AAAAAAAAAqk/uZ9C1gkF1Ao/s320/Castle+Museum22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847836172394322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A city street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfKQMun2I/AAAAAAAAAqs/-eEo7Eb6QkE/s1600-h/Castle+Museum15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfKQMun2I/AAAAAAAAAqs/-eEo7Eb6QkE/s320/Castle+Museum15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847844762328930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A popcorn stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfKwMun3I/AAAAAAAAAq0/Jhl-Ymaa9Ew/s1600-h/Castle+Museum13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfKwMun3I/AAAAAAAAAq0/Jhl-Ymaa9Ew/s320/Castle+Museum13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847853352263538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A really cool bike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfLQMun4I/AAAAAAAAAq8/ZP8qQjydXXo/s1600-h/Castle+Museum14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfLQMun4I/AAAAAAAAAq8/ZP8qQjydXXo/s320/Castle+Museum14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847861942198146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A really cool carriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mekwMunvI/AAAAAAAAAp0/Q63RKbnYFtk/s1600-h/Castle+Museum42.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mekwMunvI/AAAAAAAAAp0/Q63RKbnYFtk/s320/Castle+Museum42.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847200517234418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;An old fashioned school room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-melQMunwI/AAAAAAAAAp8/8qPTYDRrU0A/s1600-h/Castle+Museum48.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-melQMunwI/AAAAAAAAAp8/8qPTYDRrU0A/s320/Castle+Museum48.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847209107169026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This cake is a copy of the cake that was done for someone's coronation, I think. But I can't remember who's coronation it was. Anyway, the cake is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-melgMunxI/AAAAAAAAAqE/Wy2EZbK-Lb0/s1600-h/Castle+Museum54.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-melgMunxI/AAAAAAAAAqE/Wy2EZbK-Lb0/s320/Castle+Museum54.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847213402136338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A city street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-memQMunyI/AAAAAAAAAqM/nvDLSlr02n0/s1600-h/Castle+Museum52.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-memQMunyI/AAAAAAAAAqM/nvDLSlr02n0/s320/Castle+Museum52.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847226287038242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-memwMunzI/AAAAAAAAAqU/K2nrd3NVUOo/s1600-h/Castle+Museum32.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-memwMunzI/AAAAAAAAAqU/K2nrd3NVUOo/s320/Castle+Museum32.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181847234876972850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was fun to walk around the museum and see these replicated streets from the 1700s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md5gMunqI/AAAAAAAAApM/uGpqbDrvwi4/s1600-h/Castle+Museum72.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md5gMunqI/AAAAAAAAApM/uGpqbDrvwi4/s320/Castle+Museum72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181846457487892130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Articles from WWII&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md5wMunrI/AAAAAAAAApU/gaizYrCdUZY/s1600-h/Castle+Museum77.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md5wMunrI/AAAAAAAAApU/gaizYrCdUZY/s320/Castle+Museum77.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181846461782859442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A tribute to Jane Austen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md6QMunsI/AAAAAAAAApc/5xeTqfvnCuA/s1600-h/Castle+Museum78.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md6QMunsI/AAAAAAAAApc/5xeTqfvnCuA/s320/Castle+Museum78.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181846470372794050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No, seriously, she's even mentioned on the placard along with Pride and prejudice. The military uniform is reminiscent of Lydia's "regimentals."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md7AMuntI/AAAAAAAAApk/t1guvP-EXUA/s1600-h/Castle+Museum79.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md7AMuntI/AAAAAAAAApk/t1guvP-EXUA/s320/Castle+Museum79.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181846483257695954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another dress from that time period&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md7QMunuI/AAAAAAAAAps/j2fpgzOVgb8/s1600-h/Castle+Museum81.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-md7QMunuI/AAAAAAAAAps/j2fpgzOVgb8/s320/Castle+Museum81.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181846487552663266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Punch and Judy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcugMunkI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Iwg0ayPwBNY/s1600-h/Castle+Museum96.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcugMunkI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Iwg0ayPwBNY/s320/Castle+Museum96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181845168997703234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The museum started a collection of artifacts from the 1960's. It started the day I went to the museum so I got some pictures of the displays. Dave, this bike's for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcuwMunlI/AAAAAAAAAok/HvqifL4TTUA/s1600-h/Castle+Museum97.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcuwMunlI/AAAAAAAAAok/HvqifL4TTUA/s320/Castle+Museum97.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181845173292670546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan, I made sure to get a picture of the clothing just for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcvgMunmI/AAAAAAAAAos/TfVI4g9DMx4/s1600-h/Castle+Museum98.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcvgMunmI/AAAAAAAAAos/TfVI4g9DMx4/s320/Castle+Museum98.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181845186177572450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Check out the TV! No flatscreen HD monitors then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcwAMunnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/MI1mHFU5vnI/s1600-h/Castle+Museum99.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcwAMunnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/MI1mHFU5vnI/s320/Castle+Museum99.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181845194767507058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm grateful for modern appliances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcwwMunoI/AAAAAAAAAo8/nYqJq1AdKQc/s1600-h/Castle+Museum100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcwwMunoI/AAAAAAAAAo8/nYqJq1AdKQc/s320/Castle+Museum100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181845207652408962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Check out the Kitchenaid. Cool. Actually, I don't think it was a Kitchenaid, but I don't remember which brand it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcNQMunfI/AAAAAAAAAn0/0EAzB5p5734/s1600-h/Castle+Museum89.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcNQMunfI/AAAAAAAAAn0/0EAzB5p5734/s320/Castle+Museum89.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181844597767052786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The museum did replicas of different jobs/shops people would have had back in the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOAMungI/AAAAAAAAAn8/tK_rM3xG3gM/s1600-h/Castle+Museum88.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOAMungI/AAAAAAAAAn8/tK_rM3xG3gM/s320/Castle+Museum88.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181844610651954690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another profession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOQMunhI/AAAAAAAAAoE/1EuKouCCebI/s1600-h/Castle+Museum93.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOQMunhI/AAAAAAAAAoE/1EuKouCCebI/s320/Castle+Museum93.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181844614946922002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Still another profession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOwMuniI/AAAAAAAAAoM/Xp75nHNe8jQ/s1600-h/Castle+Museum95.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcOwMuniI/AAAAAAAAAoM/Xp75nHNe8jQ/s320/Castle+Museum95.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181844623536856610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I liked this display about the Beatles. Fitting, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcPQMunjI/AAAAAAAAAoU/fElK3uGiLKY/s1600-h/Castle+Museum106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mcPQMunjI/AAAAAAAAAoU/fElK3uGiLKY/s320/Castle+Museum106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181844632126791218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Predecessors to modern handcuffs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbawMunaI/AAAAAAAAAnM/M3AahaDyGhY/s1600-h/Castle+Museum102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbawMunaI/AAAAAAAAAnM/M3AahaDyGhY/s320/Castle+Museum102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181843730183658914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The jail in the basement of the museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbbQMunbI/AAAAAAAAAnU/4a21TBAtVlc/s1600-h/Castle+Museum109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbbQMunbI/AAAAAAAAAnU/4a21TBAtVlc/s320/Castle+Museum109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181843738773593522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is over the following jail cell. If you were condemned to die, you spent your last hours in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbbwMuncI/AAAAAAAAAnc/2jp1Gg-qu20/s1600-h/Castle+Museum108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbbwMuncI/AAAAAAAAAnc/2jp1Gg-qu20/s320/Castle+Museum108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181843747363528130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is where the condemned would sit and contemplate the eternities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbcQMundI/AAAAAAAAAnk/hyzkQImrzxg/s1600-h/Castle+Museum40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbcQMundI/AAAAAAAAAnk/hyzkQImrzxg/s320/Castle+Museum40.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181843755953462738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This jail cell would hold one man. Barely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbdAMuneI/AAAAAAAAAns/EatbdQ1sCeA/s1600-h/Castle+Museum41.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mbdAMuneI/AAAAAAAAAns/EatbdQ1sCeA/s320/Castle+Museum41.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181843768838364642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The mock jail cell that was part of the mock city in the earlier pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4989975123888714065?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4989975123888714065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4989975123888714065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4989975123888714065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4989975123888714065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/castle-museum.html' title='The Castle Museum'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mfJgMun0I/AAAAAAAAAqc/ske79_QOq8o/s72-c/Castle+Museum25.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1631673006971983421</id><published>2008-03-25T17:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T17:35:39.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merchant's Hall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of the sites I visited in York was Merchant's Hall. This started as a religious and civic organization. It was an interesting stop to make.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZngMunWI/AAAAAAAAAms/QCwztsIW8Lk/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZngMunWI/AAAAAAAAAms/QCwztsIW8Lk/s320/Merchant+Hall11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841750203735394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;An outside view of Merchant's Hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZoAMunXI/AAAAAAAAAm0/nbp7c2EiAnk/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZoAMunXI/AAAAAAAAAm0/nbp7c2EiAnk/s320/Merchant+Hall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841758793670002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;An inside view of Merchant's Hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZpwMunYI/AAAAAAAAAm8/1OFu0QciB1I/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZpwMunYI/AAAAAAAAAm8/1OFu0QciB1I/s320/Merchant+Hall2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841788858441090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A room in Merchant's Hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZqQMunZI/AAAAAAAAAnE/xVVI6dkAHlg/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZqQMunZI/AAAAAAAAAnE/xVVI6dkAHlg/s320/Merchant+Hall5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841797448375698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A high chair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZQAMunTI/AAAAAAAAAmU/ledKZmd-Z9M/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZQAMunTI/AAAAAAAAAmU/ledKZmd-Z9M/s320/Merchant+Hall6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841346476809522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A conference room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZQgMunUI/AAAAAAAAAmc/GNLAcGxusQA/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZQgMunUI/AAAAAAAAAmc/GNLAcGxusQA/s320/Merchant+Hall8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841355066744130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The chapel in Merchant's Hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZSQMunVI/AAAAAAAAAmk/gNJ2v_JNRjE/s1600-h/Merchant+Hall10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZSQMunVI/AAAAAAAAAmk/gNJ2v_JNRjE/s320/Merchant+Hall10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181841385131515218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How cool are these sinks!! They are modern sinks in the bathrooms in Merchant's Hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1631673006971983421?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1631673006971983421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1631673006971983421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1631673006971983421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1631673006971983421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/merchants-hall.html' title='Merchant&apos;s Hall'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mZngMunWI/AAAAAAAAAms/QCwztsIW8Lk/s72-c/Merchant+Hall11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1336585524726695435</id><published>2008-03-25T16:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T17:27:05.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haworth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On Thursday Jan and I took a train trip to Keighley and then a bus to Haworth (pronounced Hayworth). Haworth is the village where the Bronte sisters grew up. (For those that might not know, the Bronte sisters wrote novels such as Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights.) I learned a lot and gained a newfound interest in reading the works of the Bronte sisters. I'd tried reading Wuthering Heights when I was younger and found it really hard to understand so I gave up but after my trip I decided to give them a second chance. I've been reading Jane Eyre and I absolutely love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUPgMunPI/AAAAAAAAAl0/cVJ7nvwljOA/s1600-h/Train+to+Keighley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUPgMunPI/AAAAAAAAAl0/cVJ7nvwljOA/s320/Train+to+Keighley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835840328735986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train we took to Keighley (pronounced Keethlee). I really miss the excellent public transportation. Our public transportation system sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUPwMunQI/AAAAAAAAAl8/zxWdp8HpTws/s1600-h/Haworth28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUPwMunQI/AAAAAAAAAl8/zxWdp8HpTws/s320/Haworth28.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835844623703298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took this picture because of the great British sign "to let" not "to rent." I love the subtle differences between American and British culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUQQMunRI/AAAAAAAAAmE/pgjidwGgfkU/s1600-h/Keighley1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUQQMunRI/AAAAAAAAAmE/pgjidwGgfkU/s320/Keighley1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835853213637906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I couldn't resist. I was in England - home to Jane Austen - and so I had to take this photo to commemorate Pride and Prejudice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mURQMunSI/AAAAAAAAAmM/iVbuzWANr8k/s1600-h/Keighley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mURQMunSI/AAAAAAAAAmM/iVbuzWANr8k/s320/Keighley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835870393507106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Welcome to Keighley! This was our train stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTvAMunKI/AAAAAAAAAlM/JTzf0hgyt2I/s1600-h/Haworth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTvAMunKI/AAAAAAAAAlM/JTzf0hgyt2I/s320/Haworth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835281982987426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view of Haworth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTwQMunLI/AAAAAAAAAlU/zm1TZX7iMEA/s1600-h/Haworth2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTwQMunLI/AAAAAAAAAlU/zm1TZX7iMEA/s320/Haworth2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835303457823922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view of the countryside from Haworth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTwwMunMI/AAAAAAAAAlc/bn48gxYFnto/s1600-h/Haworth22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTwwMunMI/AAAAAAAAAlc/bn48gxYFnto/s320/Haworth22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835312047758530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Haworth. It's so beautiful there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTyAMunOI/AAAAAAAAAls/s_QXXQPFy3I/s1600-h/Haworth17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTyAMunOI/AAAAAAAAAls/s_QXXQPFy3I/s320/Haworth17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181835333522595042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Proof that I really was in Haworth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTKwMunFI/AAAAAAAAAkk/EptFiDLbxVU/s1600-h/Haworth16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTKwMunFI/AAAAAAAAAkk/EptFiDLbxVU/s320/Haworth16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181834659212729426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I loved this sign! Prams! How British! This sign was outside the cutest gift shop. They sold soaps in the shapes of desserts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTLwMunGI/AAAAAAAAAks/ZPKUSTFIBWA/s1600-h/Haworth19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTLwMunGI/AAAAAAAAAks/ZPKUSTFIBWA/s320/Haworth19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181834676392598626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These flower boxes were hung along the wall. They made the city very pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTMgMunHI/AAAAAAAAAk0/8w6AmQu9ptc/s1600-h/Haworth18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTMgMunHI/AAAAAAAAAk0/8w6AmQu9ptc/s320/Haworth18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181834689277500530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Someone was growing a garden outside their flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTNQMunII/AAAAAAAAAk8/aFmdAWqNnxo/s1600-h/Haworth3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTNQMunII/AAAAAAAAAk8/aFmdAWqNnxo/s320/Haworth3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181834702162402434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view on the way to the moors - looking back at Haworth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTOQMunJI/AAAAAAAAAlE/R1l6uDN-wGo/s1600-h/Haworth9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mTOQMunJI/AAAAAAAAAlE/R1l6uDN-wGo/s320/Haworth9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181834719342271634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A house right out of Pride and Prejudice or North and South.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSZgMunAI/AAAAAAAAAj8/vVKU8aRIJqg/s1600-h/Haworth+Parsonage11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSZgMunAI/AAAAAAAAAj8/vVKU8aRIJqg/s320/Haworth+Parsonage11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181833813104172034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The parsonage where the Bronte sisters father was the clergyman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSaQMunBI/AAAAAAAAAkE/_a4RWk5NoOA/s1600-h/Haworth+Parsonage1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSaQMunBI/AAAAAAAAAkE/_a4RWk5NoOA/s320/Haworth+Parsonage1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181833825989073938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stained glass in the parsonage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSbQMunCI/AAAAAAAAAkM/Gg5DUJNJS0c/s1600-h/Haworth+Parsonage9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSbQMunCI/AAAAAAAAAkM/Gg5DUJNJS0c/s320/Haworth+Parsonage9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181833843168943138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The baptismal font. They actually used to baptize babies by immersion. Nowadays they use the sprinkling method.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSbwMunDI/AAAAAAAAAkU/AfrcDf-ebgo/s1600-h/Haworth+Cemetary1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mSbwMunDI/AAAAAAAAAkU/AfrcDf-ebgo/s320/Haworth+Cemetary1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181833851758877746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The cemetery that surrounds the parsonage. I learned that public cemeteries came about because eventually the church cemeteries were all filled up and so the cities started developing land into cemeteries because there are just some things we can't do without. And you can't leave Grandpa Joe lying on the street corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mScQMunEI/AAAAAAAAAkc/BrkVCZBKIrk/s1600-h/Haworth+Parsonage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mScQMunEI/AAAAAAAAAkc/BrkVCZBKIrk/s320/Haworth+Parsonage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181833860348812354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of the parsonage. Not only was it a lovely building, it was a great place to get out of the wind and rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQ5AMum7I/AAAAAAAAAjU/AuQW4xrflH4/s1600-h/Haworth7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQ5AMum7I/AAAAAAAAAjU/AuQW4xrflH4/s320/Haworth7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181832155246795698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Animals and people seem to live side by side as neighbors. These pictures happen to have been taken out in the country but I saw plenty of horses and sheep in the city, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQ5wMum8I/AAAAAAAAAjc/Bkl1MvF_064/s1600-h/Haworth6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQ5wMum8I/AAAAAAAAAjc/Bkl1MvF_064/s320/Haworth6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181832168131697602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sheep were everywhere. I mean everywhere. It started to seem unnatural if you didn't see some sheep grazing somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRAQMum9I/AAAAAAAAAjk/l0aSdFaWnqc/s1600-h/Haworth14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRAQMum9I/AAAAAAAAAjk/l0aSdFaWnqc/s320/Haworth14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181832279800847314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This little lamb was SO cute! It followed it's mother around. I wanted to bring it home - in a theoretical sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRBAMum-I/AAAAAAAAAjs/nMTh0YnwgzA/s1600-h/Haworth15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRBAMum-I/AAAAAAAAAjs/nMTh0YnwgzA/s320/Haworth15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181832292685749218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More proof I was really there. This gate was cool. You pushed it forward and then walked around it and then pushed it backward to get out. I'd never seen a gate like it before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRBwMum_I/AAAAAAAAAj0/gjY_qkHa-Is/s1600-h/Haworth8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mRBwMum_I/AAAAAAAAAj0/gjY_qkHa-Is/s320/Haworth8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181832305570651122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The path we took to get to the moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQEQMum2I/AAAAAAAAAis/m0Hm6kIw8Sg/s1600-h/The+Moors7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQEQMum2I/AAAAAAAAAis/m0Hm6kIw8Sg/s320/The+Moors7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181831249008696162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jan on the moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQHgMum3I/AAAAAAAAAi0/1RWq87TOQaU/s1600-h/The+Moors1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQHgMum3I/AAAAAAAAAi0/1RWq87TOQaU/s320/The+Moors1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181831304843271026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQJgMum4I/AAAAAAAAAi8/jEo2MZMdPTE/s1600-h/The+Moors2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQJgMum4I/AAAAAAAAAi8/jEo2MZMdPTE/s320/The+Moors2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181831339203009410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQKwMum5I/AAAAAAAAAjE/lJbbkM5KufU/s1600-h/The+Moors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQKwMum5I/AAAAAAAAAjE/lJbbkM5KufU/s320/The+Moors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181831360677845906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was beautiful but also very cold and windy out on the moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQLwMum6I/AAAAAAAAAjM/rnf0uyfYV_w/s1600-h/The+Moors6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mQLwMum6I/AAAAAAAAAjM/rnf0uyfYV_w/s320/The+Moors6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181831377857715106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were hikes to take and sites to visit out on the moors but trying to walk through the wind was too much so we opted to just get some pictures and then head back into town for some hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1336585524726695435?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1336585524726695435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1336585524726695435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1336585524726695435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1336585524726695435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/haworth.html' title='Haworth'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mUPgMunPI/AAAAAAAAAl0/cVJ7nvwljOA/s72-c/Train+to+Keighley.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8984384222275343771</id><published>2008-03-25T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T16:47:36.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whitby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On my last day in England, Jan and I went to Whitby on the North Sea. Whitby is a charming (I know, I know, everything in England is charming) village nestled in the hills. A river runs through it (hee hee - that was actually totally unintentional) and empties into the ocean. The weather this day was WINDY. I mean windy like I've never seen before. I've been in a hurricane and the wind wasn't as bad as it was in Whitby last Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNFgMumzI/AAAAAAAAAiU/okA-BvUTrjw/s1600-h/Bus+trip1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNFgMumzI/AAAAAAAAAiU/okA-BvUTrjw/s320/Bus+trip1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827971948649266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice how far it is to Malton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNGAMum0I/AAAAAAAAAic/vz5nAcF8vSM/s1600-h/Bus+trip2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNGAMum0I/AAAAAAAAAic/vz5nAcF8vSM/s320/Bus+trip2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827980538583874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Homes like the ones in BBCs Pride and Prejudice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNGQMum1I/AAAAAAAAAik/dlzejpSi9ds/s1600-h/Bus+trip7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNGQMum1I/AAAAAAAAAik/dlzejpSi9ds/s320/Bus+trip7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827984833551186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wait, which side should I be on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMoQMumuI/AAAAAAAAAhs/FW5bZ9gk9-E/s1600-h/Bus+trip22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMoQMumuI/AAAAAAAAAhs/FW5bZ9gk9-E/s320/Bus+trip22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827469437475554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;North Yorkshire Moors National Park&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMrgMumwI/AAAAAAAAAh8/lnBOPTA8854/s1600-h/Bus+trip9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMrgMumwI/AAAAAAAAAh8/lnBOPTA8854/s320/Bus+trip9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827525272050434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are quaint towns and villages scattered all throughout the English countryside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMsgMumxI/AAAAAAAAAiE/hBROFxlPrmI/s1600-h/Bus+trip10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMsgMumxI/AAAAAAAAAiE/hBROFxlPrmI/s320/Bus+trip10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827542451919634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If I could, I would move to the English countryside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMtgMumyI/AAAAAAAAAiM/cLEQuoauhBc/s1600-h/Bus+trip5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mMtgMumyI/AAAAAAAAAiM/cLEQuoauhBc/s320/Bus+trip5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181827559631788834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Obviously, I was loving the view out of the bus window on our way to Whitby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL2QMumpI/AAAAAAAAAhE/LYYlD-GBjVU/s1600-h/Whitby12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL2QMumpI/AAAAAAAAAhE/LYYlD-GBjVU/s320/Whitby12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181826610444016274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heather in bloom. This is what grows wild on the moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3AMumqI/AAAAAAAAAhM/wLPk4WihuQc/s1600-h/Whitby10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3AMumqI/AAAAAAAAAhM/wLPk4WihuQc/s320/Whitby10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181826623328918178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jan and I walked around the art museum in Whitby. Stones like this one were arranged in a circle on the grounds of the museum. There were different designs carved in the stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3gMumrI/AAAAAAAAAhU/968YA9o1Ylc/s1600-h/Whitby1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3gMumrI/AAAAAAAAAhU/968YA9o1Ylc/s320/Whitby1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181826631918852786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the view of Whitby on the Abbey side of the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3wMumsI/AAAAAAAAAhc/aqClx1P_uus/s1600-h/North+Sea2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL3wMumsI/AAAAAAAAAhc/aqClx1P_uus/s320/North+Sea2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181826636213820098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The North Sea. The wind was so strong we could  lean back in it and it would hold us up. When Jan and I walked out toward the tip of the headland up by the Abbey, the wind started blowing us toward the edge of the cliff. At first it was funny, but then I started getting scared when I realized the wind was stronger than I was. Jan caught me and we huddled together and made our way back to the Abbey. That might be why the sea frightened me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL4QMumtI/AAAAAAAAAhk/ytM61yOLpuE/s1600-h/St.+Mary%27s13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mL4QMumtI/AAAAAAAAAhk/ytM61yOLpuE/s320/St.+Mary%27s13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181826644803754706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is St. Mary's church, I think. I'm not entirely certain that's the name of the church. But aren't the flowers pretty? Too bad they were hailed on a few minutes after I took this picture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLFQMumkI/AAAAAAAAAgc/jxQ-ahYYgMA/s1600-h/Whitby+Abbey9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLFQMumkI/AAAAAAAAAgc/jxQ-ahYYgMA/s320/Whitby+Abbey9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181825768630426178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Abbey ruins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLFwMumlI/AAAAAAAAAgk/-RathyjSveA/s1600-h/Whitby+Abbey11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLFwMumlI/AAAAAAAAAgk/-RathyjSveA/s320/Whitby+Abbey11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181825777220360786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Abbey ruins and Jan taking a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLGQMummI/AAAAAAAAAgs/sRHhrCRtIcw/s1600-h/Whitby+Abbey10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLGQMummI/AAAAAAAAAgs/sRHhrCRtIcw/s320/Whitby+Abbey10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181825785810295394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Abbey ruins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLGwMumnI/AAAAAAAAAg0/sIY9HTlHYZc/s1600-h/Whitby+Abbey3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLGwMumnI/AAAAAAAAAg0/sIY9HTlHYZc/s320/Whitby+Abbey3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181825794400230002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Abbey ruins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLHQMumoI/AAAAAAAAAg8/X0XjQk7Nzj8/s1600-h/Whitby+Abbey4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mLHQMumoI/AAAAAAAAAg8/X0XjQk7Nzj8/s320/Whitby+Abbey4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181825802990164610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These fine little fellows were just lounging about as though it were a hot, sunny summers day. They're brave little souls. Sounded like, from listening to the museum guides, that these little ducks are quite famous. They sell little duck statues in the gift shop. I didn't buy one because I had this great picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8984384222275343771?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8984384222275343771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8984384222275343771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8984384222275343771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8984384222275343771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/whitby.html' title='Whitby'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R-mNFgMumzI/AAAAAAAAAiU/okA-BvUTrjw/s72-c/Bus+trip1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7741501560082618032</id><published>2008-03-25T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T16:26:06.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>England</title><content type='html'>WOW!!!!!!! That's really all I can say. Wow. England was amazing. Seriously. I hated leaving. I loved it there. The country was beautiful, the people were friendly, and the food was delicious. The history was overwhelming. I'm going to post some pictures I took. There will be a lot. I took 500. But don't worry. I'm not going to post them all. I've also posted some on my Facebook account so you can check some out there as well. In fact, I'm going to break up posting my pictures so that they're posted by city or by experience. Anyway, so I'm going to post about 12 times but at least there will be some organization to these pictures instead of posting them willy-nilly. Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7741501560082618032?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7741501560082618032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7741501560082618032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7741501560082618032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7741501560082618032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/england.html' title='England'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4146876982568003729</id><published>2008-03-07T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T09:55:44.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life isn't fair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;I'm sure you've probably all seen this because it's circulated around the internet I don't know how many times. I have no idea if Bill Gates ever actually said this or even gave a speech at a high school and quite honestly, I don't know that it really matters. The advice is great and I wish we implemented it more in schools. If we really are trying to prepare kids for life, we should be teaching them these principles. Oh, I agree with all the advice and I also agree with the idea of the feel-good, politically correct teachings statement. Kids are such whiny babies these days. They have no idea what life is really about. At the same time, they have to grow up way too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love him  or hate him, he sure hit the nail on the head with this! To anyone with kids of  any age, here's some good advice.&lt;br /&gt;Bill Gates recently gave a speech at  a high school about 11 things they did not, and will not learn in school. He  talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of  kids with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in  the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 1 : Life is not fair... Get used to  it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 2: The world doesn't care about your self esteem. The  world expects you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself! . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 3 : You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high  school, and you won't be a vice-president with a company car until you earn  both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you  get a boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 5 : Flipping burgers is not beneath your  dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping ... they  called it opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 6 : If you mess up, it's not your  parents' fault. So don't whine about your mistakes ... Learn from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 7 : Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they  are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and  listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save  the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing  the closet in your own room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 8 : Your school may have  done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have  abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get  the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in  real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 9 : Life is not divided into semesters. You  don't get summers off and very few emp loyers are interested in helping you FIND  YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 10 : Television is  NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go  to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule 11 : Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll be  working for one someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;If you can read this - Thank a  teacher!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4146876982568003729?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4146876982568003729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4146876982568003729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4146876982568003729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4146876982568003729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/life-isnt-fair.html' title='Life isn&apos;t fair'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8718193614011058825</id><published>2008-03-03T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T11:06:46.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring break</title><content type='html'>I'm officially excited. I go to England next week! Next week!! I can't believe it! I have been reading "The National Geographic Traveler: Great Britain" (thank you Mike!) and learning about the area, the culture, the history, the places to eat, and other important bits of information. I don't want to get there and be clueless about the history of the area. I don't want to walk by something and by chance snap a picture and have someone say "What!? You didn't stop there?! But that's Buckingham Palace!" And when I go to Buckingham Palace or London Bridge or the Tower of London or any other myriad of places I can visit while I'm there, I want to know what happened and why it's important. So I've been doing some research, which is pretty amazing since I don't like to read anything that I'm not just reading for fun. I love to learn - but I love to learn by going somewhere and seeing or doing something, not by just reading about it. So, I've been breaking out of the mold and reading for information and not just for fun. And I'm learning a lot. For instance, I've decided to take everyone's advice and eat at the pubs. Okay, so I was planning on doing that before I read about them, but now I'm even more convinced. I want to try something very "British" while I'm there. I'll definitely have fish and chips with salt and vinegar. For me, the fun of visiting someplace is trying the native foods. *Side note: Why oh why does the girl that gives the afternoon announcements have to SHOUT them and make us all go deaf?* Thank goodness, she's done. Anyway, I must get back to my research but I'm so excited that I had to blog about it! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8718193614011058825?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8718193614011058825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8718193614011058825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8718193614011058825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8718193614011058825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-break.html' title='Spring break'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5032357713958690293</id><published>2008-03-03T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T09:55:25.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Audio problems</title><content type='html'>For some reason the audio won't play on the video. I have absolutely no idea why. If anyone has suggestions that might help me figure this out, I'd appreciate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5032357713958690293?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5032357713958690293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5032357713958690293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5032357713958690293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5032357713958690293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/audio-problems.html' title='Audio problems'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8835275027992435249</id><published>2008-03-03T08:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T08:50:04.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweaty Hands Syndrome</title><content type='html'>Okay, so finally (after how many months?!) we finally have the Sweaty Hands Syndrome video up on You Tube and here on my blog. I hope it works!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8835275027992435249?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8835275027992435249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8835275027992435249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8835275027992435249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8835275027992435249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/sweaty-hands-syndrome.html' title='Sweaty Hands Syndrome'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5037811177398736656</id><published>2008-03-03T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T08:48:09.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9hfN_H8Jvjg"&gt; &lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9hfN_H8Jvjg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5037811177398736656?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5037811177398736656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5037811177398736656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5037811177398736656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5037811177398736656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4727234448162285018</id><published>2008-02-27T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T11:31:39.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisters and cell phones</title><content type='html'>I was talking to my sister on Sunday. It was her birthday and she just turned 18. She got a cell phone for her birthday. (I'm very proud of my parents for waiting until she was graduating to get her a cell phone. Since I work with high school kids, I know what a problem they can be. Kids seem to think that cell phones rank right up there with food, water, and oxygen. They might die without them attached, on, and being used at all times.) Anyway, my sister is a great girl. Actually, she's smart (like Harvard smart), talented, plays volleyball, is in student government, has a 4.0, won a bunch of scholarships in the Junior Miss pageant, is a lot of fun, is the nicest girl in the world, and is gorgeous. If she wasn't my sister, I probably wouldn't be able to stand her!! (Except she's so nice I probably wouldn't be able to help myself - I'd have to like her. Anyway...) But even she hasn't escaped the high school mentality. She was telling me how she can't believe she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; got a cell phone. I mean, maybe a few years ago people didn't have them but now everyone has one and you really just need to have a cell phone...and she went on and on. I didn't break it to her that she doesn't "need" a cell phone. They're handy and I'm glad I have one but I had graduated from college before I got a cell phone - and I got it for free! I admit that I do feel better knowing she'll be taking a phone to college. The world used to be a much safer place. Girls could walk home at night without worrying and now we have to constantly look over our shoulders because there are so many evil, creepy men out there. I'm glad she'll have a way of getting a hold of someone if she were ever in trouble. So I guess from that standpoint she may "need" a cell phone. As for the high school kids, taking away their cell phones might be the kindest, most beneficial thing we could do for them. Oh, they'd hate us because they'd feel that we'd destroyed their lives. But they're not as important as they think they are and they might just learn how to politely, respectfully, and maturely interact with real human beings. They might learn how to focus and go out and serve others and actually make a difference in the world. And those that do can have their cell phones back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4727234448162285018?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4727234448162285018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4727234448162285018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4727234448162285018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4727234448162285018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/sisters-and-cell-phones.html' title='Sisters and cell phones'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4037965784712638318</id><published>2008-02-20T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T13:18:00.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Upcoming Adventure</title><content type='html'>Sigh ... it's starting to be real now. I'll be going to England in about 3 1/2 weeks. WOW! So, I've talked to my friend that I'm staying with and gotten more details. I'll fly into London and then take the train to York in northern England. I understand it's about 2 hours by train. I've done a little research and York looks like a beautiful, historic city of about 200,000. I'm really glad to be leaving London and getting out into the countryside. Compared to our 1 million here in Fairfax County, 200,000 sounds delightful! I can't wait to get away from the crowds. :-) I hope Jan and I will be able to explore a little of the country and see the castles and historic places. When I knew I was supposed to be in education, I chose ESL because I like diversity and foreign places and I can't wait to get away from what's familiar and experience a new culture. I hope I'll get to try some new foods (that's always an adventure!!) and hey, who doesn't love that beautiful, cultured British accent? As I learn more about York and northern England, I'm sure it will be all I write about on my blog. Hmmm...northern England... This sounds like a good excuse to watch "North and South." (Any excuse to see Mr. Thornton *wink* *wink*)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4037965784712638318?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4037965784712638318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4037965784712638318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4037965784712638318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4037965784712638318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-upcoming-adventure.html' title='My Upcoming Adventure'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2651268335299045985</id><published>2008-02-20T08:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T09:18:16.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>London Baby!</title><content type='html'>OH MY GOSH!!!!!! I'M GOING TO LONDON FOR SPRING BREAK!!!!!!!! YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've been kicking around different ideas for spring break. I thought maybe I'd go to Florida or maybe I'd go help my brother build his house. Wouldn't that have been a noble way to spend spring break? Well, as usual, selfishness kicked in and I'm going to London! I've never been to Europe and I can't wait! I'll be gone from the 15 - 22 of March. I have a friend who lives there. She's working on her PhD and said she has a floor I could crash on. I can't believe it. I just bought my ticket about an hour ago so i really and truly am going! I'm so excited! I'll take tons and tons and tons of pictures and post them on my blog, facebook, and anywhere else i think I can get away with it. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2651268335299045985?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2651268335299045985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2651268335299045985' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2651268335299045985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2651268335299045985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/london-baby.html' title='London Baby!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1416712143988015737</id><published>2008-02-15T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T10:26:01.928-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;One of the teachers I work with sent these out to a few of us. They're cute so I thought I'd share them with you. Apologies if you've seen them already. And remember to be at our house tonight at 8:00. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYnDZqCXI/AAAAAAAAAgU/zto-NiH95bU/s1600-h/kidwedding.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274312916928882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYnDZqCXI/AAAAAAAAAgU/zto-NiH95bU/s320/kidwedding.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYejZqCSI/AAAAAAAAAfs/8PiDIqu3JNQ/s1600-h/kidpuppy.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274166888040738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYejZqCSI/AAAAAAAAAfs/8PiDIqu3JNQ/s320/kidpuppy.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYezZqCTI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Rzm0mN_82Kc/s1600-h/kidshoes.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274171183008050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYezZqCTI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Rzm0mN_82Kc/s320/kidshoes.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYfDZqCUI/AAAAAAAAAf8/-E43gN-pjJQ/s1600-h/kidstapler.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274175477975362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYfDZqCUI/AAAAAAAAAf8/-E43gN-pjJQ/s320/kidstapler.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYfzZqCVI/AAAAAAAAAgE/Dtra-Ikzh-0/s1600-h/kidtalk.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274188362877266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYfzZqCVI/AAAAAAAAAgE/Dtra-Ikzh-0/s320/kidtalk.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYgDZqCWI/AAAAAAAAAgM/mKWJb-5Q1ag/s1600-h/kidthink.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167274192657844578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYgDZqCWI/AAAAAAAAAgM/mKWJb-5Q1ag/s320/kidthink.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMDZqCNI/AAAAAAAAAfE/j4auBDStzvA/s1600-h/kiddinosaur.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273849060460754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMDZqCNI/AAAAAAAAAfE/j4auBDStzvA/s320/kiddinosaur.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMTZqCOI/AAAAAAAAAfM/6z7QFL9leq0/s1600-h/kidholiday.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273853355428066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMTZqCOI/AAAAAAAAAfM/6z7QFL9leq0/s320/kidholiday.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMjZqCPI/AAAAAAAAAfU/1ZfFhKDqOog/s1600-h/kidJenniferHorton.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273857650395378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMjZqCPI/AAAAAAAAAfU/1ZfFhKDqOog/s320/kidJenniferHorton.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMzZqCQI/AAAAAAAAAfc/JfLCaT8gDBQ/s1600-h/kidlight.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273861945362690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYMzZqCQI/AAAAAAAAAfc/JfLCaT8gDBQ/s320/kidlight.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYNTZqCRI/AAAAAAAAAfk/LOVHJevA9W4/s1600-h/kidlove.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273870535297298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYNTZqCRI/AAAAAAAAAfk/LOVHJevA9W4/s320/kidlove.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvDZqCII/AAAAAAAAAec/ZWKhC3EQKhY/s1600-h/kid900years.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273350844254338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvDZqCII/AAAAAAAAAec/ZWKhC3EQKhY/s320/kid900years.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvTZqCJI/AAAAAAAAAek/ExldDTpENTs/s1600-h/kidAladdin.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273355139221650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvTZqCJI/AAAAAAAAAek/ExldDTpENTs/s320/kidAladdin.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvjZqCKI/AAAAAAAAAes/bY697FJEBYs/s1600-h/kidAmerican.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273359434188962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXvjZqCKI/AAAAAAAAAes/bY697FJEBYs/s320/kidAmerican.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXwDZqCLI/AAAAAAAAAe0/SsfchJ1zqKA/s1600-h/kidCainAbel.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273368024123570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXwDZqCLI/AAAAAAAAAe0/SsfchJ1zqKA/s320/kidCainAbel.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXwzZqCMI/AAAAAAAAAe8/GIzqLPMjsv8/s1600-h/kidcamp.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167273380909025474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XXwzZqCMI/AAAAAAAAAe8/GIzqLPMjsv8/s320/kidcamp.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XW3zZqCHI/AAAAAAAAAeU/3DM2lrTVEAw/s1600-h/letters+to+God.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167272401656481906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XW3zZqCHI/AAAAAAAAAeU/3DM2lrTVEAw/s320/letters+to+God.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1416712143988015737?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1416712143988015737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1416712143988015737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1416712143988015737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1416712143988015737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/kids-say-darndest-things.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R7XYnDZqCXI/AAAAAAAAAgU/zto-NiH95bU/s72-c/kidwedding.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8222227021170004086</id><published>2008-02-14T08:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T08:42:33.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Al's blog</title><content type='html'>Everyone: Please read Alexis' blog about Valentine's Day. I second her thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8222227021170004086?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8222227021170004086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8222227021170004086' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8222227021170004086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8222227021170004086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/als-blog.html' title='Al&apos;s blog'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7398131056099212897</id><published>2008-02-14T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T06:19:44.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day!!</title><content type='html'>Good morning everyone! Happy Valentine's Day! I hope every one of you has a fun, wonderful, and amazing day today! And if you're in the DC area, we'll see you tomorrow night at our party. 8:00!! See you there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7398131056099212897?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7398131056099212897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7398131056099212897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7398131056099212897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7398131056099212897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day!!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1017439046944609350</id><published>2008-02-12T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T19:06:50.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Voting</title><content type='html'>I realize that it's been a few days since I've posted anything on my blog - and quite frankly it's because I haven't had anything interesting or exciting to write about. Unfortunately, I still don't have anything interesting or exciting to blog about but when I look at other people's blogs I like to see new posts, even if they're not filled with earth-shattering news. So I decided to write about the mundane (or not so mundane) things going on in my life. This week is a little crazy. We have our "let's make fun of valentine's day but in a fun way" party on Friday. I admit that I'm a little worried that people will think we're taking Valentine's Day seriously. We're not. It amazes me how uptight people get about Valentine's Day. It seems to me that if it's a day to celebrate love, well, there are lots of people in my life that I love but that I'm certainly not in love &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with.&lt;/span&gt; I love my friends and family, of course, and Valentine's Day is a perfect day to let them know. I think Valentine's Day should just be fun and filled with lots of candy - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;especially &lt;/span&gt;chocolate - and fun parties and telling people that you care about them. Valentine's Day should just be a fun day. So on Friday we're going to have a party to let all of our friends know that we care about them. I still have to finish coloring in cupid and we have signs to make, cookies to bake, lights to hang, and music to choose. And we have one day to get this all done in. Tomorrow is Institute and Emma's birthday and so tomorrow evening is gone. That leaves Thursday. Actually, we have Ultimate on Thursday but I think we're just going to have to miss it, as sad as that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough party stuff. I voted today. I'm so proud of myself! I got my little "I voted" sticker and proudly wore it from McLean High School to my house and no one saw it but I was proud of it anyway. I'm always excited when I vote because I realize that it's a real blessing to be able to choose the leaders of your country and because I'd rather sit at home and read a book on days when it's raining ice but I made myself go vote anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That leads me to the traffic. I'm sorry for anyone and everyone that has to drive at rush hour here. Tonight it was even worse. The rain/ice was slowing everything down. I admit, it was slick, but it was also frustrating to have a ten minute drive turn into a forty minute commute. I'm just hoping that it will freeze out on the western edges of the county and at least get the schools a two hour delay. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's late so I'm off to take my ambien, drink my chamomile tea, and go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1017439046944609350?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1017439046944609350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1017439046944609350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1017439046944609350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1017439046944609350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-realize-that-its-been-few-days-since.html' title='Voting'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1166600759291765862</id><published>2008-02-06T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T20:18:25.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum roll, please ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, here it is! The unveiling of "The Tent!" *applause*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R6qGQN_MHZI/AAAAAAAAAeE/Wb_ElZittqs/s1600-h/HPIM2492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R6qGQN_MHZI/AAAAAAAAAeE/Wb_ElZittqs/s320/HPIM2492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164087535924419986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R6qGQd_MHaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Z3vVD3C1rG0/s1600-h/HPIM2493.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R6qGQd_MHaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Z3vVD3C1rG0/s320/HPIM2493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164087540219387298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1166600759291765862?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1166600759291765862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1166600759291765862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1166600759291765862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1166600759291765862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/drum-roll-please.html' title='Drum roll, please ...'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R6qGQN_MHZI/AAAAAAAAAeE/Wb_ElZittqs/s72-c/HPIM2492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7932053240812427391</id><published>2008-02-06T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T11:07:14.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For the record</title><content type='html'>For those of you that have been reading my blog, I'm proud to announce that the tent is finished!! It's at the dry cleaners right now being pressed and I'm hopefully going to pick it up this afternoon. (According to Maggy, having it pressed will give it a nice professional look. She's so excited that I've actually made something that I didn't have the heart to tell her that I don't think even having the tent pressed will save it. The poor thing is beyond anyone's help.) Once I have it, I'll take pictures so you can see the results of my time spent in the torture chamber (or in other words, in front of a sewing machine). No, I'm not any fonder of sewing than I was when I began this little adventure. However, I am motivated to continue sewing for a few reasons: 1) God really seems to want me to do it and I've learned that he always gets his way in the end so I may as well give in now. 2) I've had something to do at work. 3)On a church listserve, a guy posted a need for a good seamstress or tailor and I realized that if I get good at this, I can make some serious money! I didn't learn this just from this guy's post but also from a previous experience where I had to drop $160 at a tailor shop to get a dress to the point I could wear it. (And all we had to do was put on sleeves.) That doesn't include the second dress I had to buy so I would have material to tailor the first dress. Oh yes, and let me clarify that my abhorrence for all things sewing does NOT extend to you paying me two hundred bucks to put sleeves on your dress or take in your waistband. For the record. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7932053240812427391?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7932053240812427391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7932053240812427391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7932053240812427391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7932053240812427391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/02/exciting-announcement.html' title='For the record'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3818556194772001496</id><published>2008-01-29T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T10:01:33.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little about me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;I was named for Rachel in the Bible.&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;January 29&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Sometimes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Chicken or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Turkey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU HAVE KIDS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Nope!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Of course ‘cuz I’m so dang awesome!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yes and I would probably pee my pants doing it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Probably anything chocolatey&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Of course!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;How? Physically or emotionally?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;I’m not a huge fan of ice cream. If I have to eat it, I prefer Denali Moose Tracks.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Their height&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;RED OR PINK?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Neither&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST ?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;My grandmother&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yep&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;JEANS OR PEARLS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Jeans! Jeans! Jeans!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;A slice of tomato with salt on it. Yummy!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;The Chanukah Song Part 3&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Black&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;FAVORITE SMELLS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Freshly cut grass. Spring. Men wearing good cologne.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;My mom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Anything I don’t play.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;HAIR COLOR?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Brown&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;EYE COLOR?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Sometimes hazel, sometimes green, sometimes blue, sometimes brown.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Yes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;FAVORITE FOOD?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Chocolate.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Happy endings! I have an overactive imagination so I don’t do very well with scary movies … unless I have a boy to cuddle with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;White&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;SUMMER OR WINTER?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Both out West. Fall and Spring back East&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;HUGS OR KISSES?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Can’t I have both?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;FAVORITE DESSERT?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Chocolate&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Good question.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Good question.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;“Network Solutions”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;I actually don’t watch TV.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;FAVORITE SOUND?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Children laughing. Men singing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Beatles. I’ve recently become a fan.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Latvija&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;I don’t think so.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHERE WERE YOU BORN?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;Idaho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;, BABY!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.25in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:blue;"&gt;WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Everyones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3818556194772001496?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3818556194772001496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3818556194772001496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3818556194772001496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3818556194772001496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/little-about-me.html' title='A little about me'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3662508734665681455</id><published>2008-01-29T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T13:49:52.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on someone else's blog</title><content type='html'>I was reading a friend's blog and he shared his thoughts on dating and how we shouldn't give up on it even if it doesn't seem to be very successful right now. That got me thinking about being a young single adult and being in the middle of the dating world. I think everyone needs to relax. It seems like YSAs have this idea that getting married will bring nothing but bliss and happiness. But the reality is that marriage, along with all the good things, also brings a whole new set of trials, problems, frustrations, and disappointments. When we get married, we're not never going to be lonely: we're just going to feel the loneliness more poignantly. We're not suddenly going to be rich (most of us): we're probably going to end up with a lot more financial struggles. We're not going to suddenly be beautiful, perfect, and amazing: we're still going to be our same wonderful, imperfect selves. I'm not writing this to be negative but hopefully to point out that happiness doesn't depend on our marital status. It depends on what we choose. There are so many amazing opportunities and advantages we have because we're single. Don't misunderstand me: we should certainly be dating and preparing ourselves to get married. And when we do get married, we should enjoy that stage of our lives. I'm just saying that I wish that as YSAs in general we appreciated all the blessings we have a little more and thought less about how happy we're going to be when we get married because if we're not happy now, we won't be then. Life is incredible! Even with all its trials, problems, heartaches, disappointments, and difficulties, we have so much! We're educated, we have opportunities, we can go anywhere we want to and do whatever we want to. As a former institute teacher said, "In my humble but correct opinion" the key to being happy and fulfilled in life doesn't come in a wedding ring but comes in loving, forgiving, serving, and trying to be humble. It comes in putting others before ourselves. If we're happier when we're married, I think it's only because we have someone to love unconditionally, forgive constantly, serve endlessly, and will humble us daily. We have someone to put ahead of ourselves. But why do we have to be married to do that? We interact with friends, family, coworkers, and roommates everyday. We can treat all of them that way and be happy now. Anyway, I get tired of hearing how hard life is being single and so I thought I would share my thoughts and hopefully we can all be more grateful for the amazing gift that is each of our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3662508734665681455?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3662508734665681455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3662508734665681455' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3662508734665681455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3662508734665681455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/thoughts-on-someone-elses-blog.html' title='Thoughts on someone else&apos;s blog'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4156470086263434396</id><published>2008-01-29T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T13:39:18.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock Band</title><content type='html'>I went to my friends' (Reed and Brian) house and played Rock Band. If you haven't played this yet, you've got to! It's a lot of fun. Here are some pictures of us playing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-b2d_MHXI/AAAAAAAAAd0/mzlSnXjzJPc/s1600-h/HPIM2473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-b2d_MHXI/AAAAAAAAAd0/mzlSnXjzJPc/s320/HPIM2473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161015058054782322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had to throw in the picture of Brian's shirt because it's funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-b29_MHYI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ECoRrAryxrQ/s1600-h/HPIM2481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-b29_MHYI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ECoRrAryxrQ/s320/HPIM2481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161015066644716930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sexiest butt EVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bdd_MHSI/AAAAAAAAAdM/5wOG5uQmq0g/s1600-h/HPIM2459a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bdd_MHSI/AAAAAAAAAdM/5wOG5uQmq0g/s320/HPIM2459a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014628558052642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Reed and Bronwyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bd9_MHTI/AAAAAAAAAdU/xwaj5-egbQk/s1600-h/HPIM2461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bd9_MHTI/AAAAAAAAAdU/xwaj5-egbQk/s320/HPIM2461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014637147987250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bed_MHUI/AAAAAAAAAdc/XU1Vz5Fa4hQ/s1600-h/HPIM2463.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bed_MHUI/AAAAAAAAAdc/XU1Vz5Fa4hQ/s320/HPIM2463.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014645737921858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne on drums&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bgt_MHVI/AAAAAAAAAdk/FremFljE9jo/s1600-h/HPIM2467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bgt_MHVI/AAAAAAAAAdk/FremFljE9jo/s320/HPIM2467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014684392627538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reed and Bronwyn, again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bhN_MHWI/AAAAAAAAAds/mOZRHUe9-S0/s1600-h/HPIM2471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-bhN_MHWI/AAAAAAAAAds/mOZRHUe9-S0/s320/HPIM2471.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014692982562146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jinkies!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a0t_MHNI/AAAAAAAAAck/Ud0mcrYlyB4/s1600-h/HPIM2454.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a0t_MHNI/AAAAAAAAAck/Ud0mcrYlyB4/s320/HPIM2454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161013928478383314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne on guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a19_MHOI/AAAAAAAAAcs/lQe9iHA5XZU/s1600-h/HPIM2455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a19_MHOI/AAAAAAAAAcs/lQe9iHA5XZU/s320/HPIM2455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161013949953219810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a59_MHPI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Zux47a6-1CU/s1600-h/HPIM2456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a59_MHPI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Zux47a6-1CU/s320/HPIM2456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014018672696562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More of the band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a6d_MHQI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YzBMMbMwIX4/s1600-h/HPIM2456a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a6d_MHQI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YzBMMbMwIX4/s320/HPIM2456a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014027262631170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still more of the band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a69_MHRI/AAAAAAAAAdE/m8h4hAgYps0/s1600-h/HPIM2457a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-a69_MHRI/AAAAAAAAAdE/m8h4hAgYps0/s320/HPIM2457a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161014035852565778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anne rocked everyone's world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4156470086263434396?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4156470086263434396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4156470086263434396' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4156470086263434396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4156470086263434396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/rock-band.html' title='Rock Band'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5-b2d_MHXI/AAAAAAAAAd0/mzlSnXjzJPc/s72-c/HPIM2473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4460525325621520905</id><published>2008-01-29T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T13:24:43.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing update</title><content type='html'>I've been meaning to update my blog for a few days now. But the problem is that every time I sat down to update it, I didn't know what to write. But today was really exciting because I figured out how to put the sleeves on the tent (which is actually beginning to resemble a dress!). I've been trying to figure this out for days. Finally today I "hemmed" the lining around the sleeves and then just put the sleeves on the dress part of the dress. (I've been trying to figure out how to sew the sleeves between the lining and the dress. The teacher was gone so I have no idea if what I did will work. I'll find out tomorrow. I have a confession, though. I cheated. After I had unpicked one of the sleeves three times, when I realized that it still didn't look right, I turned the dress back inside out, just sewed it to look right, and left it that way. I have no idea how it will actually look when it's on. I'm kind of scared to try it on. Maggy is convinced that it fits me since we tailored it down, but I'm not so sure. Maggy said to me today, "I think you should leave it sleeveless and just put a sweater over it." I don't think Maggy understands that I'm willing to learn to sew because I'm tired of putting a sweater on over everything I wear. (As a side note, it's a lot easier to shop at home. Things are a lot more modest where I come from. Anyway...) I have to learn how to do these sleeves so that I can put sleeves on clothes I find that are sleeveless and I just want to tailor a little. Once I kind of got the sleeves on, I sewed the back of the dress together. This was after I unpicked both sides where the lining and the dress were sewn together. I really wish I knew why the pattern said to sew the dress and lining together and then had me unpick it later. That just doesn't make any sense! Anyway, tomorrow I'll sew the lining together and then put the zipper in. I wonder if Maggy expects me to wear this dress. It's sure looking scary!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4460525325621520905?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4460525325621520905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4460525325621520905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4460525325621520905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4460525325621520905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/sewing-update.html' title='Sewing update'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-7754360518627006356</id><published>2008-01-28T20:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T17:03:58.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intelligence</title><content type='html'>I was just looking at the Newsweek article "He's Not as Smart as He Thinks." Apparently a British researcher studied the differences in IQ between men and women and found that there isn't a difference. He found that what happens is that women tend to underestimate their intelligence and men tend to overestimate theirs. So essentially, men aren't as smart as they think they are. What I want to know is, did this guy spend money on this research? Because I could have told him that for free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Sorry if there's a bitter note to this. I'm very frustrated with a "friend" of mine right now. Not only do men overestimate their intelligence, some of them are seriously lacking in communication skills!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-7754360518627006356?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/7754360518627006356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=7754360518627006356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7754360518627006356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/7754360518627006356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/intellligence.html' title='Intelligence'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2646990656076605666</id><published>2008-01-22T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:14:50.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing</title><content type='html'>I'm learning how to sew. Yes, it's true. For those of you who knew me when I was a teenager, I know you're finding this hard to believe. When I was a kid, my mother made a brave and valiant attempt to teach me how to sew. There was just one problem: I hated sewing. I still hate sewing. I'm terrible at it! As a matter of fact, I'm so bad at sewing and the stuff I make is so atrocious that it makes me laugh. It's turned out to be a great source of entertainment. Our fashion design teacher is teaching her students how to sew and her level 2 students each have to create their own line for the fashion show. I figured that as long as the kids are all sewing anyway, I might as well join in the fun. We all sit in the fashion design classroom with our little sewing machines and our pins and try to take that tricky, slippery material and turn it into something recognizeable. The kids are doing a great job and I'm there as the comic relief. Well, not me, actually, but my sewing attempts. The only problem is that the teacher, who hasn't actually really looked at anything I've "made" has asked me to teach a small group of children how to make a bag on Saturday morning. Those poor children! They'll never be the same! They'll be scarred forever. They'll see a sewing machine and run away screaming or curl up in the fetal position in the corner and rock back and forth ... back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*side note* the girl doing the afternoon announcements just announced that they're going to hold softball tryouts. softball is a spring sport!! The end is near!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my current attempt is a dress. Yes, a whole dress. Did you know that patterns come in different sizes? Yeah, I know that now, too. Let's just say I didn't get the pattern with my size so now not only do I have to sew the dress together, I then have to tailor it to fit me. Today the fashion teacher and I fit the dress (or as I lovingly refer to it "the tent") onto a dress form. But she didn't pick out the dress form that's my size so I'm not sure if I'm going to have to tailor it then tailor it again or if I'm maybe wrong about the dress sizes. (I've learned in fashion design that what designers used to call a 12 is now an 8 and a 14 is a 10 and so on and so forth.) That's all well and good until you're trying to sew from a pattern and a dress form and you're basing your dress size on the size written on the tag on your jeans but the size on the tag on your jeans is different from the size of the dress form. AIYEEEE!!! (This is part of why I'm not so good at the sewing thing. Let's simplify, people!!) Anyway, so I guess that when I "tailor" (a word I use very loosely!) my dress tomorrow morning I'm going to have to ask if I'll actually be wearing the "dress" or if it's just for show. Maybe it'll be the example of what not to do in fashion design!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I've done the easy part of the dress. I still have to put on the sleeves.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2646990656076605666?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2646990656076605666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2646990656076605666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2646990656076605666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2646990656076605666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/sewing.html' title='Sewing'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8793927016249172492</id><published>2008-01-18T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T17:10:43.471-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mylifeisboring.com</title><content type='html'>I was sitting in my room tonight not feeling well. Not feeling well enough to go do something fun but feeling well enough to know how well I wasn't feeling and that I was bummed about not being able to go do something fun. As I was sitting there feeling sorry for myself, I heard people out in the living room and that only made me feel more depressed because I was in my pajamas and so I wasn't sure I should go out and say hi. Finally, in a desperate fit of frustration, I got on the internet (my laptop was on my ... well, on my lap) and I typed in mylifeisboring.com. It's an actual website. Who knew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I get to help work on another PSA. I love television production! I think it's so fun! We're making a PSA to enter into a contest about internet safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In further news, I've decided to post my pictures that I took while we were cross country skiing over Christmas. The "model" in the pictures is my sister. She was having a great time "modeling" for me. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEm4AP2I/AAAAAAAAAcc/H3vRBqGRqoc/s1600-h/S7300007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEm4AP2I/AAAAAAAAAcc/H3vRBqGRqoc/s320/S7300007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156987789866188642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEW4AP1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/THhA8Ddp-hU/s1600-h/S7300005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEW4AP1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/THhA8Ddp-hU/s320/S7300005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156987785571221330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEG4AP0I/AAAAAAAAAcM/YuJP84DO80Q/s1600-h/S7300004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEG4AP0I/AAAAAAAAAcM/YuJP84DO80Q/s320/S7300004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156987781276254018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNDW4APyI/AAAAAAAAAb8/Xe20qqQJtj8/s1600-h/S7300001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNDW4APyI/AAAAAAAAAb8/Xe20qqQJtj8/s320/S7300001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156987768391352098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FND24APzI/AAAAAAAAAcE/etzFqaVYewE/s1600-h/S7300002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FND24APzI/AAAAAAAAAcE/etzFqaVYewE/s320/S7300002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156987776981286706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8793927016249172492?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8793927016249172492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8793927016249172492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8793927016249172492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8793927016249172492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/mylifeisboringcom.html' title='mylifeisboring.com'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/R5FNEm4AP2I/AAAAAAAAAcc/H3vRBqGRqoc/s72-c/S7300007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1031203724005334777</id><published>2008-01-17T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T13:35:09.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow</title><content type='html'>It snowed today and I'm so happy!!! I love snow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1031203724005334777?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1031203724005334777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1031203724005334777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1031203724005334777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1031203724005334777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/snow.html' title='Snow'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-467085825974879171</id><published>2008-01-15T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T16:41:24.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thievery</title><content type='html'>Not only did I steal this survey from someone else (that would be Chris Terrell) but I left in his line about stealing this survey. But it looked like fun! And yes, if everyone was jumping off the cliff, I probably would, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stole this survey from someone else :)&lt;br /&gt;] Became single&lt;br /&gt;[X] got kissed&lt;br /&gt;[X] kissed someone new&lt;br /&gt;[ ] kissed in the snow&lt;br /&gt;[ ] kissed in the rain&lt;br /&gt;[ ] kissed on the beach&lt;br /&gt;[x] 'fell in love'&lt;br /&gt;[ ] 'fell in love' with a fool&lt;br /&gt;[X] had my heart broken&lt;br /&gt;[] broke someone else's heart&lt;br /&gt;[] had a stalker&lt;br /&gt;[X] lost a friend&lt;br /&gt;[X] had a good relationship with someone&lt;br /&gt;[ ] came out of my closet&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got married&lt;br /&gt;[ ] had a divorce&lt;br /&gt;[] kissed someone of the same sex (on the cheek)&lt;br /&gt;[] dated someone that you will never forget&lt;br /&gt;[X] did something I regret&lt;br /&gt;[] lost faith in love&lt;br /&gt;[] kissed under mistletoe&lt;br /&gt;[] got a promotion&lt;br /&gt;[x] got a pay raise&lt;br /&gt;[] changed jobs&lt;br /&gt;[] quit my job&lt;br /&gt;[ ] dated a co-worker&lt;br /&gt;[ ] dated my boss&lt;br /&gt;[ ] dated my boss's son/ daughter&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got fired from my job&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got straight A's&lt;br /&gt;[x] met a teacher who I became friends with&lt;br /&gt;[x] met a teacher who I really (strongly dislike)&lt;br /&gt;[] found the subject I love&lt;br /&gt;[] failed a class&lt;br /&gt;[x] cut class&lt;br /&gt;[x] skipped school&lt;br /&gt;[] got in a fight with a classmate&lt;br /&gt;[X] did something I was proud of&lt;br /&gt;[X] discovered a new talent&lt;br /&gt;[X] proved myself that I'm an idiot&lt;br /&gt;[x] embarrassed myself in front of the class&lt;br /&gt;[] fell in love with a teacher&lt;br /&gt;[] got the lead/minor lead role in the school play&lt;br /&gt;[] made a team&lt;br /&gt;[X] was involved in something that I will never forget&lt;br /&gt;[] painted a picture&lt;br /&gt;[] wrote a poem&lt;br /&gt;[x] ran a mile&lt;br /&gt;[X] listened to music I couldn't stand&lt;br /&gt;[X] double dipped&lt;br /&gt;[x] went to a sleepover&lt;br /&gt;[] went to camp&lt;br /&gt;[] threw a surprise party&lt;br /&gt;[X] laughed till I cried&lt;br /&gt;[X] flirted shamelessly&lt;br /&gt;[x] visited a foreign country&lt;br /&gt;[X]visited a state&lt;br /&gt;[x] cooked a disastrous meal&lt;br /&gt;[X] lost something important to me&lt;br /&gt;[X] got a gift I love&lt;br /&gt;[X] realized something new about myself&lt;br /&gt;[] went on a diet&lt;br /&gt;[] tried to gain weight&lt;br /&gt;[] dyed my hair&lt;br /&gt;[] came close to losing my life&lt;br /&gt;[x] someone/thing close to me died&lt;br /&gt;[] got arrested&lt;br /&gt;[X] read a great book&lt;br /&gt;[X] saw a great movie&lt;br /&gt;[ ] saw a movie so scary that it made me cry&lt;br /&gt;[ ] saw a favorite band live&lt;br /&gt;[X] did something that I wanted to tell everyone&lt;br /&gt;[X] experienced something new&lt;br /&gt;[X] made new friends&lt;br /&gt;[] found out who your real friends are&lt;br /&gt;[] lied to your parents&lt;br /&gt;[ x] snuck out&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got in trouble with the po-po&lt;br /&gt;[ x] kissed in a pool&lt;br /&gt;[X] kissed under the stars&lt;br /&gt;[X] had the time of your life&lt;br /&gt;[X] danced&lt;br /&gt;[ ] fell out of love&lt;br /&gt;[X] had a crush on someone&lt;br /&gt;[X] swam in a pool&lt;br /&gt;[x] made a snowman&lt;br /&gt;[ ] went snowboarding&lt;br /&gt;[] went sledding&lt;br /&gt;[X] slept in past 2pm&lt;br /&gt;[X] held someone’s hand that you care about&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got wasted in a public place&lt;br /&gt;[] told someone you like them as more than a friend&lt;br /&gt;[X] gone on vacation&lt;br /&gt;[X] gone on vacation with a friend&lt;br /&gt;[X] driven a car&lt;br /&gt;[ ] danced in the rain&lt;br /&gt;[] got in a car accident&lt;br /&gt;[] seen someone get in a car accident&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got in a fist fight&lt;br /&gt;[X] laughed until you couldn't breathe&lt;br /&gt;[X] missed someone&lt;br /&gt;[ ] sent someone to the hospital&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got a new pet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A YEAR-END SURVEY1.) Who was your best friend at the beginning of this year? The end?&lt;br /&gt;My best friends at the beginning of the year were my best friends at the end of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) What was your status by Valentine's Day? Single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Were you in school (anytime this year)? Every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) How did you earn your keep? Slave labor. Or teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Did you ever have to go to the hospital? Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Have you encountered the police this year? A lot. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Where did you go on vacation? Idaho and Alaska and the Yukon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) What did you purchase that was over $500? Airline tickets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Did you know anybody who got married? I'm Mormon - of course I do!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Did you know anybody who passed away? Yes, my grandmother, unfortunately. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.)How many times did you go on facebook/myspace? I didn't keep track&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.) Did you move anywhere? Alaska&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.) What sporting events did you go to? Not enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.) What concerts did you go to? none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Are you registered to vote? Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.) If so, did you do your patriotic duty on Nov. 6? Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.) Where do you live now? Virginia during the school year and Alaska and Idaho during the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.) Describe your birthday. Surprisingly and pleasantly filled with boys!!! Thanks Bronwyn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.) What's the one thing you thought you would never do but did in 2007? Made it back to Alaska to drive the motorcoaches and give tours. And I had my own apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.) What is one thing you regretted this year? Keeping my mouth shut when i should have said something - in a lot of different situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.) What's something you learned about yourself? Whoa - don't go all Dr. Phil on me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.) Any new additions to your family? Yes! An adorable nephew and a beautiful niece!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.) What was your best month? Middle of June to the end of August&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.) How would you rate this year with a scale from 1 (crappy) to 10 (amazing)? Depends on the time of year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-467085825974879171?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/467085825974879171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=467085825974879171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/467085825974879171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/467085825974879171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/thievery.html' title='Thievery'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-4003426355922576833</id><published>2008-01-15T16:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T16:16:56.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tigers</title><content type='html'>My wonderful friend Reed loaned me his copy of Life of Pi. I'd seen it in bookstores but the only reviews I'd heard about it had been from critics and they seemed to like it and since critics and I tend to disagree about everything (books, movies, food - it doesn't matter) I had stayed away from it. But I really liked it. If you haven't read it, read it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-4003426355922576833?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/4003426355922576833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=4003426355922576833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4003426355922576833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/4003426355922576833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/tigers.html' title='Tigers'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3008553480503969673</id><published>2008-01-14T16:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T16:51:37.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guns</title><content type='html'>At the end of last week we went shooting. (We take our criminal justice kids three times during the school year.) At the beginning of the year we shot Glocks and Sig Sauers. This time we shot revolvers. I like revolvers better. There's less kick. I had a great time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3008553480503969673?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3008553480503969673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3008553480503969673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3008553480503969673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3008553480503969673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/guns.html' title='Guns'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1050007995235196569</id><published>2008-01-11T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T16:14:52.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate coming up with titles.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday one of our fashion design girls showed up in a sweater and a pair of nylons. Yep, no pants. No skirt. Nothing underneath that sweater. I was speechless. I hadn't seen that - ever - at my school and I've seen some pretty shocking things. The sweater covered her little behind - barely. We have a lovely Christian girl that teaches the class and she had the student in tears! Today she showed up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater that covered &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;. I think she learned her lesson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1050007995235196569?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1050007995235196569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1050007995235196569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1050007995235196569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1050007995235196569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-hate-coming-up-with-titles.html' title='I hate coming up with titles.'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5516518425572888890</id><published>2008-01-09T14:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T14:57:36.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I have a really cool job</title><content type='html'>So, today I got to go shooting. I drove three criminal justice students to the shooting range and the criminal justice teacher taught me how to shoot a revolver. I liked it better than the Glocks we shot last time we went. Sometimes I have the coolest job ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5516518425572888890?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5516518425572888890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5516518425572888890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5516518425572888890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5516518425572888890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/sometimes-i-have-really-cool-job.html' title='Sometimes I have a really cool job'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3736406765265338764</id><published>2008-01-07T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:41:25.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 in Virginia</title><content type='html'>I've missed my blog so I decided that for 2008 I would keep updating it, even though I'm not in Alaska right now. There are plenty of exciting things going on here in Virginia. Like I almost passed out at work today. In the middle of a presentation. In front of 30 high school students. EMBARRASSING!! In happier news, I went to New York for New Years and met up with a couple friends I met over the summer. We saw Phantom of the Opera (it was the first time for me) and it was AMAZING!!! We also went to a taping of David Letterman - so funny! Donald Trump was the guest star. I'm not a big fan of Donald Trump but it was cool to see him in person. I think the makeup people had tried to fix his hair.  It's unfortunate that we didn't make it into the earlier taping because Robin Williams was the guest star. It was a trade off - Robin Williams or Phantom and Phantom was TOTALLY worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went to the link on Anne's blog (http://frecklefacedgirl.blogspot.com) and took the personality test. Here are the results:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bg style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You Are An ISFJ&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/isfj.gif" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Nurturer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You have a strong need to belong, and you very loyal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A good listener, you excel at helping others in practical ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In your spare time, you enjoy engaging your senses through art, cooking, and music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You find it easy to be devoted to one person, who you do special things for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In love, you express your emotions through actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Taking care of someone is how you love them. And you do it well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At work, you do well in a structured environment. You complete tasks well and on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You would make a good interior designer, chef, or child psychologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How you see yourself: Competent, dependable, and detail oriented&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When other people don't get you, they see you as: Boring, dominant, and stuck in a rut&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/"&gt;What's Your Personality Type?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  Well, I copied and pasted that in so hopefully it will work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3736406765265338764?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3736406765265338764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3736406765265338764' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3736406765265338764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3736406765265338764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-in-virginia.html' title='2008 in Virginia'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-6013681454161056808</id><published>2007-08-27T19:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T19:14:36.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODYkJO3qI/AAAAAAAAAbk/VN25RPB7i-M/s1600-h/Tyler.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODYkJO3qI/AAAAAAAAAbk/VN25RPB7i-M/s320/Tyler.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103567260783402658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I am back in Virginia and so homesick for Alaska! I especially miss the boys and Gwen. I met some amazing people this summer. It's tough to be back in Northern Virginia after spending the summer on the highway and in Eagle. I loved it! I thought I would post pics of some of the great people I worked with. Tyler is on the left. He's a great guy! He'll do anything to help you out and is so much fun to hang out with!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODZEJO3rI/AAAAAAAAAbs/gn38dqcpKiA/s1600-h/HPIM1726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODZEJO3rI/AAAAAAAAAbs/gn38dqcpKiA/s320/HPIM1726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103567269373337266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wish I had pictures of Kevin that show him doing something more interesting than working on the computer. Kevin is hilarious and smart and is tons of fun! Of course, everything he says offends me. (That's just for you, Kevin. :) )&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODZkJO3sI/AAAAAAAAAb0/4t96PrZH7ug/s1600-h/HPIM1727.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODZkJO3sI/AAAAAAAAAb0/4t96PrZH7ug/s320/HPIM1727.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103567277963271874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's almost the same picture as above, but Kevin needs to be featured twice so he knows how much I love him. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll see if I can track down pictures of Mike and Jake and Gwen and post them. I already posted pictures of the twins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the boys and Gwen. They're amazing people. The people I worked with were the best part of my summer. I miss them a lot. I got to chat with Tyler, Kevin, and Jake today and it made a rough day into a great day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-6013681454161056808?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/6013681454161056808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=6013681454161056808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6013681454161056808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/6013681454161056808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/08/boys.html' title='The Boys'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RtODYkJO3qI/AAAAAAAAAbk/VN25RPB7i-M/s72-c/Tyler.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-227360618617472120</id><published>2007-08-25T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T18:35:58.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of Summer</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm in Idaho. I left Alaska four days early because my grandmother died (not the one that died in April, my other grandmother) and I was fortunate enough to get to be here when my sister had her baby! She and her husband have a beautiful little baby girl named Kaitlyn. She's just adoreable! Although I'm very homesick for Alaska, I'm really glad I got to be here for my sister. Now Taylor Jo has a baby sister and she's really excited and we're excited for her. I brought my camera to the hospital earlier but I forgot it when I made my second trip here and Sara and Kaitlyn were actually awake and I could have gotten pictures. Todd has taken a bunch, though, so I'm sure he'll be happy to show off his newest baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fly back tomorrow to DC. I'm not excited at all. I have been so happy in Alaska and at home and the thought of getting on the plane tomorrow is just depressing. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post pictures of Kaitlyn as soon as I get some from Todd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-227360618617472120?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/227360618617472120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=227360618617472120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/227360618617472120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/227360618617472120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/08/end-of-summer.html' title='The End of Summer'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5505363554914352000</id><published>2007-08-17T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T15:19:08.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Eagle Tour of Summer 2007</title><content type='html'>(Note: These pictures are going to be a little disjointed.) Today I came back from my last highway tour. I knew when I came up here that leaving would be hard. I knew th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IEJO3lI/AAAAAAAAAa8/Hkn8MT_xul0/s1600-h/HPIM2158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IEJO3lI/AAAAAAAAAa8/Hkn8MT_xul0/s320/HPIM2158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099895707990416978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;at it would be really hard. Now that it's here, I don't know how I'm going to do it. I've been so happy here. The thought of leaving has brought back the migraines I'd been having before I came up here. I have so many dear friends here. I love what I do. I love Alaska. My dearest wish is to fly back to Virginia, pack up my car, and come back here. I have great friends helping me look for jobs here for the next school year. I was going to have one more Eagle tour, but I'm going home for four days for family stuff then it's back to Virginia on the 26th. I leave here on the 21st. It's heartbreaking. I got to the boat landing in Eagle and broke down crying. Fortunately, I'd pulled it together before my guests got off the boat. Leaving was so hard. When we got to Tok, Robin told me goodbye and I teared up in front of my guests. The funny thing was, we had passed an RV within inches right before we got to Chicken and people were telling me how well I'd done on the road, so it looked like I was tearing up over their comments. :-) After saying goodbye to Shannon, the bartender, I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. I can't believe I won't be going back to see Chris waiting to help with the luggage or hang out with Shannon and Ditty and the other drivers and tour directors in the lounge. I can't believe I won't stand on the banks of the Yukon and watch it flow by. I can't believe I won't see Kate and Andy at the boat and give them hugs as they come in from Dawson. I can't believe I won't be "mad" at Matt or Jake for not hiking the bluff with me. I can't believe how much I'll miss everyone here. How am I going to leave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on my way to the campground when I came across this area. It looks like Eagle's recreation site. It looked like people had been out playing on their four wheelers. Too bad it wasn't me out playing on the four wheeler! :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IUJO3mI/AAAAAAAAAbE/cXVPWQVx0rs/s1600-h/HPIM2179.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IUJO3mI/AAAAAAAAAbE/cXVPWQVx0rs/s320/HPIM2179.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099895712285384290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We saw the Alaska Range this morning. You never see the Alaska Range. It's always clouded over. We had to stop and get pictures. I just wish I had a better camera so you could really see how beautiful it was.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IkJO3nI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Wz29g7Ox7SE/s1600-h/HPIM2182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IkJO3nI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Wz29g7Ox7SE/s320/HPIM2182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099895716580351602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another shot of the Alaska Range.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4I0JO3oI/AAAAAAAAAbU/wWULFSyB_28/s1600-h/HPIM2190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4I0JO3oI/AAAAAAAAAbU/wWULFSyB_28/s320/HPIM2190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099895720875318914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We stop at Gold Dredge #8 in Fox in the morning on our way to Tok and in the afternoon on our way back from Tok.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4JEJO3pI/AAAAAAAAAbc/jo_mT3dVfgU/s1600-h/HPIM2112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4JEJO3pI/AAAAAAAAAbc/jo_mT3dVfgU/s320/HPIM2112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099895725170286226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My baby (883) took good care of me. Wow, the road was muddy!!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3dkJO3gI/AAAAAAAAAaU/_SPhJ4ude8c/s1600-h/HPIM2146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3dkJO3gI/AAAAAAAAAaU/_SPhJ4ude8c/s320/HPIM2146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894977845976578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of the homes in Eagle.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3d0JO3hI/AAAAAAAAAac/oOho5LBsr5I/s1600-h/HPIM2145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3d0JO3hI/AAAAAAAAAac/oOho5LBsr5I/s320/HPIM2145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894982140943890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The front entrance to the school in Eagle.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3eEJO3iI/AAAAAAAAAak/BbmaKN2F-to/s1600-h/HPIM2147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3eEJO3iI/AAAAAAAAAak/BbmaKN2F-to/s320/HPIM2147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894986435911202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eagle's post office. The postmaster was (and I think still is) a very important person in Eagle.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3ekJO3jI/AAAAAAAAAas/TbnzRh3BPuA/s1600-h/HPIM2149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3ekJO3jI/AAAAAAAAAas/TbnzRh3BPuA/s320/HPIM2149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894995025845810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tyler made a phone call from this phone when we were in Eagle. I had no idea it actually worked!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3e0JO3kI/AAAAAAAAAa0/ClwlKti8bFY/s1600-h/HPIM2151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ3e0JO3kI/AAAAAAAAAa0/ClwlKti8bFY/s320/HPIM2151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894999320813122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Eagle Cemetary. I have been wondering where it was because I've been reading a book called "Jewel on the Yukon" which is all about the history of Eagle. The cemetary is mentioned, but I didn't know where it was. Now I know. :)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2s0JO3dI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/AzcL4U8zHN4/s1600-h/HPIM2142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2s0JO3dI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/AzcL4U8zHN4/s320/HPIM2142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894140327353810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The high school parking lot. :-)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2tUJO3eI/AAAAAAAAAaE/OKLM5gw09qQ/s1600-h/HPIM2143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2tUJO3eI/AAAAAAAAAaE/OKLM5gw09qQ/s320/HPIM2143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894148917288418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so we're out in the bush but this light post looks like it could be in front of any school in the Lower 48. You would probably have had to be in Eagle to understand the great irony of this light post.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2uEJO3fI/AAAAAAAAAaM/0IdoCjw10GA/s1600-h/HPIM2144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2uEJO3fI/AAAAAAAAAaM/0IdoCjw10GA/s320/HPIM2144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099894161802190322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I like this sign much better than the signs you see in the Lower 48 as you're driving away from public schools.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2FEJO3YI/AAAAAAAAAZU/bpOJQ_CMIbM/s1600-h/HPIM2129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2FEJO3YI/AAAAAAAAAZU/bpOJQ_CMIbM/s320/HPIM2129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099893457427553666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the hotel I stay in when I'm in Eagle. I'm homesick for Eagle already.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2FUJO3ZI/AAAAAAAAAZc/KPmJMSsLHH8/s1600-h/HPIM2131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2FUJO3ZI/AAAAAAAAAZc/KPmJMSsLHH8/s320/HPIM2131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099893461722520978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A basketball hoop.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2F0JO3aI/AAAAAAAAAZk/AcJeEzO5dqs/s1600-h/HPIM2136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2F0JO3aI/AAAAAAAAAZk/AcJeEzO5dqs/s320/HPIM2136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099893470312455586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the sign you see as you enter the school zone. All schools should have signs like this. It has personality. It's not just boring yellow and black or white and black.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2GEJO3bI/AAAAAAAAAZs/TZpm8FL0ai4/s1600-h/HPIM2137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2GEJO3bI/AAAAAAAAAZs/TZpm8FL0ai4/s320/HPIM2137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099893474607422898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the stop sign as you're leaving the school. Try getting away with this in Northern Virginia!&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2GUJO3cI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/718mTrV4EwI/s1600-h/HPIM2140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ2GUJO3cI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/718mTrV4EwI/s320/HPIM2140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099893478902390210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the school in Eagle. It's very modern and very nice looking from the outside. I was talking with a lady who said it's even nicer on the inside.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0-EJO3TI/AAAAAAAAAYs/AUsWq7a6LiQ/s1600-h/HPIM2109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0-EJO3TI/AAAAAAAAAYs/AUsWq7a6LiQ/s320/HPIM2109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099892237656841522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Kitty. She's so funny!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0-kJO3VI/AAAAAAAAAY8/1BJFE_lFp-g/s1600-h/HPIM2108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0-kJO3VI/AAAAAAAAAY8/1BJFE_lFp-g/s320/HPIM2108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099892246246776146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A dredge bucket. These things weigh 1500 pounds so once you have one in place, you don't move it. You just find a use for it.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0_EJO3WI/AAAAAAAAAZE/EPMP-DRsHJk/s1600-h/HPIM2121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0_EJO3WI/AAAAAAAAAZE/EPMP-DRsHJk/s320/HPIM2121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099892254836710754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jessica and Emma, two of Eagle's Historical Society tour guides. They're so cute! I love them and I'll miss them. The Eagle Mall is in the background.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0_kJO3XI/AAAAAAAAAZM/VYWhfLGPlPM/s1600-h/HPIM2124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0_kJO3XI/AAAAAAAAAZM/VYWhfLGPlPM/s320/HPIM2124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099892263426645362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Downtown Eagle looking toward the bluff. That's the restaurant where I ate dinner and breakfast and the store behind that where we stopped on our way out of Eagle. Wow, what I wouldn't give to be there talking to Robin and waiting to drive the Taylor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-5505363554914352000?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/5505363554914352000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=5505363554914352000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5505363554914352000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/5505363554914352000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-last-eagle-tour-of-summer-2007.html' title='My Last Eagle Tour of Summer 2007'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ4IEJO3lI/AAAAAAAAAa8/Hkn8MT_xul0/s72-c/HPIM2158.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-8344478376133270055</id><published>2007-08-17T21:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T22:50:17.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Westmark Hotel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0LUJO3SI/AAAAAAAAAYk/wxX5IWmZPuM/s1600-h/HPIM2194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0LUJO3SI/AAAAAAAAAYk/wxX5IWmZPuM/s320/HPIM2194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099891365778480418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the view to my right. Sorry the pictures are a little blurry. I didn't want the people around me to think I was some crazy stalker, taking random pictures of the lobby of a hotel. But this is where I've sat to do all my blog posts, and so I had to share the view with all of you.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0CEJO3RI/AAAAAAAAAYc/2SNftZxupZc/s1600-h/HPIM2193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0CEJO3RI/AAAAAAAAAYc/2SNftZxupZc/s320/HPIM2193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099891206864690450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is across from me.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZz5EJO3QI/AAAAAAAAAYU/bfmLKqCwMP4/s1600-h/HPIM2192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZz5EJO3QI/AAAAAAAAAYU/bfmLKqCwMP4/s320/HPIM2192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099891052245867778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is to my left.The lady standing up on the right is Australian and has a great accent and was asking the lady sitting down about Thanksgiving. She said she had always been curious about that holiday. It was interesting to sit and listen to someone ask questions about American culture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-8344478376133270055?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/8344478376133270055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=8344478376133270055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8344478376133270055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/8344478376133270055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/08/westmark-hotel.html' title='The Westmark Hotel'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZ0LUJO3SI/AAAAAAAAAYk/wxX5IWmZPuM/s72-c/HPIM2194.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1606490675943499156</id><published>2007-08-17T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T21:47:34.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZy2UJO3PI/AAAAAAAAAYM/DTTR2q6tsNk/s1600-h/HPIM2096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZy2UJO3PI/AAAAAAAAAYM/DTTR2q6tsNk/s320/HPIM2096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099889905489599730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I finally got to run with my friend Tyler. He calls me Rachiepoo. :-) I'm okay with it. I feel loved. Oh, and Scott, I had a guest who called me Taters when he found out I was from Idaho. I loved it. I thought it was so funny that he would come up with THAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here is the token shot of my motorcoach. I don't know if you can tell how dirty it is from this picture, but it was pretty filthy. Tyler and I got the coaches clean pretty quick, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZys0JO3OI/AAAAAAAAAYE/nrM3JNadrzk/s1600-h/HPIM2094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZys0JO3OI/AAAAAAAAAYE/nrM3JNadrzk/s320/HPIM2094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099889742280842466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Jerry Nelson. He is the mayor of Eagle. He is also the branch president for the local LDS church. The membership includes him and his wife. They are really great people. Brother Nelson took Tyler and me four-wheeling. Little did I know that I love it! I had no idea! I've found a new passion! I'm in love!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZyiEJO3NI/AAAAAAAAAX8/Ix5WAJKdVvs/s1600-h/HPIM2091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZyiEJO3NI/AAAAAAAAAX8/Ix5WAJKdVvs/s320/HPIM2091.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099889557597248722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Spider, the Nelson's dog. We are up on Telegraph hill, which is about as high as the Bluff, but a much easier climb on a four-wheeler. Eat your hearts out, Matt and Jake!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZySUJO3MI/AAAAAAAAAX0/pjd6V8etLus/s1600-h/HPIM2083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZySUJO3MI/AAAAAAAAAX0/pjd6V8etLus/s320/HPIM2083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099889287014309058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Tyler, who I adore!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZyAUJO3LI/AAAAAAAAAXs/-wroW64esjc/s1600-h/HPIM2076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZyAUJO3LI/AAAAAAAAAXs/-wroW64esjc/s320/HPIM2076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099888977776663730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the view from Telegraph Hill. It's beautiful!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZxzEJO3KI/AAAAAAAAAXk/jTVK7Tc5Sc0/s1600-h/HPIM2068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZxzEJO3KI/AAAAAAAAAXk/jTVK7Tc5Sc0/s320/HPIM2068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099888750143397026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a further back picture of the same shot, I realized after I uploaded the pictures. But since I have two other posts to update, I'm just going to leave them. You get the idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1606490675943499156?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1606490675943499156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1606490675943499156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1606490675943499156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1606490675943499156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/08/eagle-again-because-i-love-this-place.html' title='I&apos;m in love'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RsZy2UJO3PI/AAAAAAAAAYM/DTTR2q6tsNk/s72-c/HPIM2096.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-2318366763744802176</id><published>2007-07-30T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T15:21:11.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Taylor Highway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aly4HVSI/AAAAAAAAAXU/22V-gPH0wPY/s1600-h/HPIM2052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107833961403682" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aly4HVSI/AAAAAAAAAXU/22V-gPH0wPY/s320/HPIM2052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm sitting, yet again, in the lobby of the lovely Westmark hotel in Fairbanks. I got back late last night from deadheading in from Eagle. (Deadheading means you're driving an empty coach. Once in a while it happens that two tours are scheduled to go in but only one is scheduled to come from Dawson and so Matt (yes, hot, twin Matt) got the tour and I got to deadhead.) I wasn't too thrilled at first, but then I realized I would get to go to church AND I would be able to get a lot of pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This first one is a very rare sight in the summer in Alaska: a sunset. This was taken about 45 minutes from Fairbanks overlooking the Tanana River. It's without the flash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ady4HVRI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Hz4JbCEh6EA/s1600-h/HPIM2050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107696522450194" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ady4HVRI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Hz4JbCEh6EA/s320/HPIM2050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the same picture taken with the flash. Oops. The color was more what I saw in this picture with the flash, but the one without the flash was clearer. I couldn't decide which to put on the blog, so I decided to go with both. :)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aUy4HVQI/AAAAAAAAAXE/E32faVW6F8Q/s1600-h/HPIM2037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107541903627522" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aUy4HVQI/AAAAAAAAAXE/E32faVW6F8Q/s320/HPIM2037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the Robertson River, about 45 minutes outside of Tok.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aOC4HVPI/AAAAAAAAAW8/nu7E9AoLzLY/s1600-h/HPIM2021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107425939510514" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aOC4HVPI/AAAAAAAAAW8/nu7E9AoLzLY/s320/HPIM2021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Alaska Highway just before Tetlin Junction. Tetlin Junction will take you to Eagle.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Z0C4HVMI/AAAAAAAAAWk/dE3cdCBGMiA/s1600-h/HPIM2017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093106979262911682" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Z0C4HVMI/AAAAAAAAAWk/dE3cdCBGMiA/s320/HPIM2017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Where to go? Where to gooooo???&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Z_C4HVNI/AAAAAAAAAWs/vuoEE-jv4m8/s1600-h/HPIM2018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107168241472722" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Z_C4HVNI/AAAAAAAAAWs/vuoEE-jv4m8/s320/HPIM2018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Canada?&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aEy4HVOI/AAAAAAAAAW0/GJD7ja54Rwo/s1600-h/HPIM2020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093107267025720546" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aEy4HVOI/AAAAAAAAAW0/GJD7ja54Rwo/s320/HPIM2020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tok?&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZrS4HVLI/AAAAAAAAAWc/jyHQOroohUM/s1600-h/HPIM2016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093106828939056306" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZrS4HVLI/AAAAAAAAAWc/jyHQOroohUM/s320/HPIM2016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How about let's go to Eagle. I took a picture of this sign because there is a herd of 30,000 caribou that migrate through the Fortymile. We saw a few of them on Polly Summit. In fact, my tour director, Jordan, was using the facilities (i.e. peeing in the bushes) when a caribou walked through the bushes about ten feet in front of him and scared him to death! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZZC4HVKI/AAAAAAAAAWU/cI2PscZyAZY/s1600-h/HPIM2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093106515406443682" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZZC4HVKI/AAAAAAAAAWU/cI2PscZyAZY/s320/HPIM2008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These little sand dunes line the road for the first couple miles of the Taylor. People like to get out and write messages on them.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZNC4HVJI/AAAAAAAAAWM/RVuBIUBmZ4Y/s1600-h/HPIM2001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093106309248013458" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZNC4HVJI/AAAAAAAAAWM/RVuBIUBmZ4Y/s320/HPIM2001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Mt. Fairplay. The first 62 miles of the Taylor are paved and so there aren't very many pictures of it because it's not that much fun to drive. :) But it's pretty.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZCS4HVII/AAAAAAAAAWE/k2fPryObNGA/s1600-h/HPIM1985.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093106124564419714" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5ZCS4HVII/AAAAAAAAAWE/k2fPryObNGA/s320/HPIM1985.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is a view of chicken from the road. Since I've already posted pictures of downtown Chicken, I didn't take any more.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Yxi4HVHI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ah3eVoGHQqo/s1600-h/HPIM1980.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093105836801610866" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Yxi4HVHI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ah3eVoGHQqo/s320/HPIM1980.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are two signs that look like this on the Taylor. One on this side of Chicken and one on the other side.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YdC4HVGI/AAAAAAAAAV0/1SU6e2tC9B8/s1600-h/HPIM1970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093105484614292578" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YdC4HVGI/AAAAAAAAAV0/1SU6e2tC9B8/s320/HPIM1970.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is one side of the road on one of the switchbacks.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YPi4HVFI/AAAAAAAAAVs/NUF9eVfub2Y/s1600-h/HPIM1965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093105252686058578" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YPi4HVFI/AAAAAAAAAVs/NUF9eVfub2Y/s320/HPIM1965.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Matt asked if I would park so that his people could get a picture of my motorcoach. He's on one side of the switchback and I'm on the other. What he didn't know is that I had been trying to get this picture for the whole drive. I just played it real cool, though, when he asked me to pause for the picture. It was quite entertaining for me to think of all those people getting a picture of me while I was getting a picture of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YHS4HVEI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7EVysDPcwZQ/s1600-h/HPIM1960.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093105110952137794" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5YHS4HVEI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7EVysDPcwZQ/s320/HPIM1960.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the switchback. It's hard to get a really good picture of how narrow it is. People always wonder if the motorcoach can make it around. It's fun. :)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5X9S4HVDI/AAAAAAAAAVc/94AC4xeq2Dc/s1600-h/HPIM1956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093104939153445938" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5X9S4HVDI/AAAAAAAAAVc/94AC4xeq2Dc/s320/HPIM1956.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are the oxbow lakes.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Xvy4HVCI/AAAAAAAAAVU/gPZ7m0A5U2Q/s1600-h/HPIM1953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093104707225211938" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Xvy4HVCI/AAAAAAAAAVU/gPZ7m0A5U2Q/s320/HPIM1953.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is from the goat trail. It's called the goat trail because it's nice and narrow. I took this picture because the original "All American Trail" that the gold miners followed went through this valley. You can actually see part of that old trail, but my picture didn't come out very well. :(&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Xfy4HVBI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Xpm1-49i8Js/s1600-h/HPIM1945.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093104432347304978" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Xfy4HVBI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Xpm1-49i8Js/s320/HPIM1945.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the Jack Wade Dredge. It ran from 1959 to 1964. It used 1500 cords of wood per season until they converted it to diesel. They took out $40,000 in gold every two weeks.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5XIy4HU_I/AAAAAAAAAU8/z7UOJJU4ZBA/s1600-h/HPIM1938.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093104037210313714" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5XIy4HU_I/AAAAAAAAAU8/z7UOJJU4ZBA/s320/HPIM1938.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the intersection on the Taylor. The one and only intersection.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5g-C4HVTI/AAAAAAAAAXc/HW8j_yHsFMY/s1600-h/HPIM1937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093114847642998066" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5g-C4HVTI/AAAAAAAAAXc/HW8j_yHsFMY/s320/HPIM1937.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the sign that directs you to Tok and Fairbanks or over Top of the World to Dawson.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5XRi4HVAI/AAAAAAAAAVE/UKNVp3-49Iw/s1600-h/HPIM1939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093104187534169090" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5XRi4HVAI/AAAAAAAAAVE/UKNVp3-49Iw/s320/HPIM1939.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the junction.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WqC4HU9I/AAAAAAAAAUs/MGA7B5eG14w/s1600-h/HPIM1920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093103508929336274" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WqC4HU9I/AAAAAAAAAUs/MGA7B5eG14w/s320/HPIM1920.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I realized that the pictures I got of the road make it look really straight when it's really not. There are some straighter areas but a lot of it is switchbacks and mountain passes on a dirt road. I love the Taylor Highway!!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WIy4HU8I/AAAAAAAAAUk/VkdrSb4Icus/s1600-h/HPIM1913.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102937698685890" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WIy4HU8I/AAAAAAAAAUk/VkdrSb4Icus/s320/HPIM1913.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just a nice view from the highway.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WAy4HU7I/AAAAAAAAAUc/IO6qmiKblx8/s1600-h/HPIM1909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102800259732402" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5WAy4HU7I/AAAAAAAAAUc/IO6qmiKblx8/s320/HPIM1909.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who the heck gets their mail in the middle of nowhere???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We use this mailbox sometimes if we have guests with a birthday or anniversary. We'll give the pilot car driver, Robin, whatever it is we have for the guest. He drops it in the mailbox and then we slow down and get it as we drive by. The guests love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why there is a mailbox here because it is literally in the middle of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5V3C4HU6I/AAAAAAAAAUU/eYHDi9gYj-k/s1600-h/HPIM1908.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102632756007842" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5V3C4HU6I/AAAAAAAAAUU/eYHDi9gYj-k/s320/HPIM1908.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is a sign before this section of road that says "One Land Road Ahead." The great irony is that almost all of the Taylor is basically a one lane road.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VtC4HU5I/AAAAAAAAAUM/HV4cl4MNoVY/s1600-h/HPIM1903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102460957315986" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VtC4HU5I/AAAAAAAAAUM/HV4cl4MNoVY/s320/HPIM1903.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What the heck kind of corner is that anyway? No gentle curves on this stretch of road!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VjC4HU4I/AAAAAAAAAUE/8gCyfo7-2jA/s1600-h/HPIM1896.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102289158624130" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VjC4HU4I/AAAAAAAAAUE/8gCyfo7-2jA/s320/HPIM1896.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is the construction workers camp. Yes, I had a hard time believing that people actually lived out on the Taylor highway, but they do!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VYS4HU3I/AAAAAAAAAT8/XKAgNVeyDhc/s1600-h/HPIM1893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093102104475030386" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VYS4HU3I/AAAAAAAAAT8/XKAgNVeyDhc/s320/HPIM1893.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This stretch of road is down in the valley heading up toward American Summit.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VFy4HU2I/AAAAAAAAAT0/5iUVEQokf3Q/s1600-h/HPIM1870.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093101786647450466" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5VFy4HU2I/AAAAAAAAAT0/5iUVEQokf3Q/s320/HPIM1870.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of three somewhat straight stretches of road. This is up on American Summit.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UyS4HU1I/AAAAAAAAATs/5udXgk3wGUo/s1600-h/HPIM1863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093101451640001362" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UyS4HU1I/AAAAAAAAATs/5udXgk3wGUo/s320/HPIM1863.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the liquor store on American Summit. I took a picture of it because it has a fun story. Eagle is a damp town, so you can't buy or sell alcohol there. However, you can bring it in. They say that in the wintertime, one of the residents of Eagle is selected to take his snowmachine, attach a sled to it, and ride up to American Summit, load the sled with alcohol, and bring it back into Eagle. Hey, you make your own fun when you're in the middle of nowhere!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Ujy4HU0I/AAAAAAAAATk/asVta0k79yU/s1600-h/HPIM1855.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093101202531898178" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5Ujy4HU0I/AAAAAAAAATk/asVta0k79yU/s320/HPIM1855.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of the views from American Summit.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UbS4HUzI/AAAAAAAAATc/kpHt9uI8Vgs/s1600-h/HPIM1851.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093101056503010098" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UbS4HUzI/AAAAAAAAATc/kpHt9uI8Vgs/s320/HPIM1851.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The road coming down from American Summit into Eagle.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UHi4HUyI/AAAAAAAAATU/vD3ilPYZ35w/s1600-h/HPIM1840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093100717200593698" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5UHi4HUyI/AAAAAAAAATU/vD3ilPYZ35w/s320/HPIM1840.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I'm known as the slowest driver on the Taylor highway, and I like that. I discovered, however, that when I'm deadheading, I'm not a very slow driver so I took a picture of Matt's dust because I was eating it the whole drive from Eagle to Chicken!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5T_i4HUxI/AAAAAAAAATM/50zyhLXE3w0/s1600-h/HPIM1838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093100579761640210" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5T_i4HUxI/AAAAAAAAATM/50zyhLXE3w0/s320/HPIM1838.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I pulled up in front of the store in Eagle to wait until Matt had all of his guests. Well, Matt wasn't parked where he should have been and so I had to figure out where to park and then Matt told me I looked nice and so everything I needed to do (like going to my hotel room and grabbing my suitcase) went right out of my head. About seven miles down the road, I remembered my suitcase. Robin went and got it for me, but it held up Matt's tour. I felt AWFUL!!!! I tried to make it up to him later, however. But I'm not going to tell you how. Hee hee hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5T0i4HUwI/AAAAAAAAATE/gR2JqIEE-ks/s1600-h/HPIM1835.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093100390783079170" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5T0i4HUwI/AAAAAAAAATE/gR2JqIEE-ks/s320/HPIM1835.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the Yukon river from downtown Eagle. It's so peaceful there. I put a chair outside of my hotel room and just sat and read and watched the Yukon go by.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5TpC4HUvI/AAAAAAAAAS8/EoiVwqjyjiY/s1600-h/HPIM1832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093100193214583538" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5TpC4HUvI/AAAAAAAAAS8/EoiVwqjyjiY/s320/HPIM1832.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another shot of the beautiful Yukon river. I head back out to Eagle tomorrow and I can't wait. I get really ancy (is that how you spell it?) when I'm in Fairbanks and I count the days until I'm back out on the highway. Tomorrow I'm heading out with Jake, who is very cool, and so it should be a great run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-2318366763744802176?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/2318366763744802176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=2318366763744802176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2318366763744802176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/2318366763744802176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/07/taylor-highway.html' title='The Taylor Highway'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rq5aly4HVSI/AAAAAAAAAXU/22V-gPH0wPY/s72-c/HPIM2052.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-3651308706721766486</id><published>2007-07-26T16:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T16:48:02.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chena Hot Springs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvvC4HUtI/AAAAAAAAASs/kGJQ2cohexE/s1600-h/HPIM1825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvvC4HUtI/AAAAAAAAASs/kGJQ2cohexE/s320/HPIM1825.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091653338991645394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last night I had my first Chena Hot Springs run. There are natural hot springs that occur about an hour's drive from Fairbanks. I drove six people out to the hot springs. We saw 11 moose on our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the rock pool. This is where I sat for 40 minutes and soaked and felt all the stress in my life just melt away. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvoC4HUsI/AAAAAAAAASk/gpxebbVUmcg/s1600-h/HPIM1823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvoC4HUsI/AAAAAAAAASk/gpxebbVUmcg/s320/HPIM1823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091653218732561090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, this is a major form of transportation in Alaska. Have you ever ridden in a plane this small? It redefines "turbulence."&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvhC4HUrI/AAAAAAAAASc/gusMBA1Jn-Y/s1600-h/HPIM1821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvhC4HUrI/AAAAAAAAASc/gusMBA1Jn-Y/s320/HPIM1821.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091653098473476786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Token shot of my "motorcoach" which in this case is a Sprinter. These things don't look like much but they've got Mercedes engines and have some serious get up and go. They're really fun to drive. A little too fun. I managed to shave some time off our trip last night because these are so much fun to drive, if you know what I mean.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvYy4HUqI/AAAAAAAAASU/fAF8-x5t5BY/s1600-h/HPIM1822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvYy4HUqI/AAAAAAAAASU/fAF8-x5t5BY/s320/HPIM1822.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091652956739556002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They plant flowers in anything in Alaska.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvQy4HUpI/AAAAAAAAASM/Tq39BPwy50M/s1600-h/HPIM1820.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvQy4HUpI/AAAAAAAAASM/Tq39BPwy50M/s320/HPIM1820.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091652819300602514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I mean anything. But it's pretty, isn't it. :)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvHy4HUoI/AAAAAAAAASE/_8Exnx0TQWM/s1600-h/HPIM1819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvHy4HUoI/AAAAAAAAASE/_8Exnx0TQWM/s320/HPIM1819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091652664681779842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These flowers are planted in an old dredge bucket.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkqQy4HUnI/AAAAAAAAAR8/NUOzVRpgOCE/s1600-h/HPIM1813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkqQy4HUnI/AAAAAAAAAR8/NUOzVRpgOCE/s320/HPIM1813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091647321742463602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the ice museum. They have some REALLY cool stuff in there. Next time, I'll see if I can tag along with my group and get a picture.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkp0y4HUlI/AAAAAAAAARs/8meD_LxzBUg/s1600-h/HPIM1812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkp0y4HUlI/AAAAAAAAARs/8meD_LxzBUg/s320/HPIM1812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091646840706126418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the restaurant. Alaska likes to claim "the farthest north ___________(fill in the blank with almost anything) in the world." This restaurant would qualify, not as the farthest north, but as "the slowest restaurant in the world."&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkpqC4HUkI/AAAAAAAAARk/NA4pIHmFqbs/s1600-h/HPIM1811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkpqC4HUkI/AAAAAAAAARk/NA4pIHmFqbs/s320/HPIM1811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091646656022532674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I loved the flowers planted on the side of the path. Aaaawwwww.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkqAC4HUmI/AAAAAAAAAR0/VsgFsDnw3fw/s1600-h/HPIM1827.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkqAC4HUmI/AAAAAAAAAR0/VsgFsDnw3fw/s320/HPIM1827.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091647033979654754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me, tired and way too relaxed for an hour and a half drive after sitting in the hot springs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-3651308706721766486?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/3651308706721766486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=3651308706721766486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3651308706721766486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/3651308706721766486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/07/chena-hot-springs.html' title='Chena Hot Springs'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkvvC4HUtI/AAAAAAAAASs/kGJQ2cohexE/s72-c/HPIM1825.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-1232357878921143730</id><published>2007-07-26T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T16:05:46.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My best Eagle tour EVER!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgcS4HUiI/AAAAAAAAARU/_lJi7xqmydU/s1600-h/HPIM1809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgcS4HUiI/AAAAAAAAARU/_lJi7xqmydU/s320/HPIM1809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091636524194681378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My last Eagle tour was the best one I've ever had, hands down, without question. Mike and I were paralleling and we had a blast and then on my run out of Eagle (Eagle to Tok to Fairbanks) I had the coolest Tour Director I've ever met. We got along really well. His name is Matt. He would juggle for the people as we were getting on and off the coach. He was relaxed and fun. We'd sit and quote Jerry Seinfeld's "I'm Telling You for the Last Time" and laugh. So, Matt and I got along GREAT and then Mike and I were playing jokes on each other the whole run. Like when we were in Eagle getting ready to leave and there was a line of 8 women to use the women's restroom and there was no one in the men's. The restrooms are identical and so I said to the women in front of me "Wouldn't it be a good idea to use the men's and help move the line along? I think I'm going to do it." The lady next to me said, "I'll let any men that come along know you're in there. I said "Thanks" and headed off to the bathroom. Well, I hadn't been in there too long when I hear this nice lady who's got my back say "Oh, don't go in there. There's a lady in there." I hear Mike say, sounding a little confused, "Oh, there's a lady in there?" The woman replied, "Yes, it's the other driver." Mike, with a mischievous tone said, "Oh, it's the other driver." Suddenly I hear a grating sound and then the bathroom goes pitch black. Of course, I start yelling (and laughing because he got me pretty good) and then a few seconds later, the door opens again. He told his people and I told my people and they thought it was a great joke. That was how the whole run went. We had such a great time. It showed. Our guests had a fantastic time because we were having so much fun. I hope that my run tomorrow is just as much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgVy4HUhI/AAAAAAAAARM/SRhvBIsELRY/s1600-h/HPIM1807.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgVy4HUhI/AAAAAAAAARM/SRhvBIsELRY/s320/HPIM1807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091636412525531666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We tried to get a picture of the rainbow that we saw as we left Tok. It was the most amazing rainbow I've ever seen. We saw one end of it in the trees and then as we came around the corner, we saw it arch above us and end just to the right of the road. I wish I could have captured it. It was stunning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgNC4HUgI/AAAAAAAAARE/oTECs0r_C3E/s1600-h/HPIM1805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgNC4HUgI/AAAAAAAAARE/oTECs0r_C3E/s320/HPIM1805.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091636262201676290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's me at the end of my long day of touring. :)&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgEC4HUfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Pjn24Tc3Kp8/s1600-h/HPIM1790.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgEC4HUfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Pjn24Tc3Kp8/s320/HPIM1790.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091636107582853618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is hanging in our rooms in Tok. It's cute.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkf9S4HUeI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/oYg2Iigcac4/s1600-h/HPIM1788.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkf9S4HUeI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/oYg2Iigcac4/s320/HPIM1788.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635991618736610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I thought I would share with you the lush accommodations they provide us with in Tok.&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkf2S4HUdI/AAAAAAAAAQs/RP8h0qAaGoo/s1600-h/HPIM1787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkf2S4HUdI/AAAAAAAAAQs/RP8h0qAaGoo/s320/HPIM1787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635871359652306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two beds - just for me! (Do you like the conveniently placed scriptures - looks like I actually read 'em, doesn't it!! :) )&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkftS4HUcI/AAAAAAAAAQk/bYKbrpMt65w/s1600-h/HPIM1786.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkftS4HUcI/AAAAAAAAAQk/bYKbrpMt65w/s320/HPIM1786.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635716740829634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkflC4HUbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/wtTENu3rh7M/s1600-h/HPIM1785.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkflC4HUbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/wtTENu3rh7M/s320/HPIM1785.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635575006908850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfXC4HUZI/AAAAAAAAAQM/Nkfr6QzNkmU/s1600-h/HPIM1782.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfXC4HUZI/AAAAAAAAAQM/Nkfr6QzNkmU/s320/HPIM1782.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635334488740242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a shot of the inside of the bar in Chicken. You&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqknGy4HUjI/AAAAAAAAARc/8FJcS_HxOvw/s1600-h/HPIM1780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqknGy4HUjI/AAAAAAAAARc/8FJcS_HxOvw/s320/HPIM1780.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091643851408888370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; wouldn't believe what is hanging on the walls and ceiling here.&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;These old cars are inside one of the buildings in Eagle. I'd never seen them before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought they were pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfHC4HUXI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Vthzpthv0Ik/s1600-h/HPIM1779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfHC4HUXI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Vthzpthv0Ik/s320/HPIM1779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091635059610833266" 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;Here's a shot of the old airfield in Eagle. It was built for military use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfAC4HUWI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ly8RV4l9dqE/s1600-h/HPIM1776.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkfAC4HUWI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ly8RV4l9dqE/s320/HPIM1776.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634939351748962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Token shot of my motorcoach. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqke5C4HUVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/cjV-wC_QRg8/s1600-h/HPIM1777.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqke5C4HUVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/cjV-wC_QRg8/s320/HPIM1777.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634819092664658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkeuy4HUUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/gvo77cekEpg/s1600-h/HPIM1772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkeuy4HUUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/gvo77cekEpg/s320/HPIM1772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634642999005506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See? It really is an airfield.&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;Another shot of the airfield - and I think Eagle is pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkeni4HUTI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Z7oGmikIGNw/s1600-h/HPIM1770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkeni4HUTI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Z7oGmikIGNw/s320/HPIM1770.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634518444953906" 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;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where the old cars are housed. This is part of Fort Egbert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkefy4HUSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2rnVz7A-vVg/s1600-h/HPIM1768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rqkefy4HUSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2rnVz7A-vVg/s320/HPIM1768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634385300967714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the fireweed!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkeUC4HURI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eDAsDU3FTis/s1600-h/HPIM1769.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkeUC4HURI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eDAsDU3FTis/s320/HPIM1769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091634183437504786" 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;I still love the fireweed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkeIS4HUQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/aDnvUJrFXsE/s1600-h/HPIM1767.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkeIS4HUQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/aDnvUJrFXsE/s320/HPIM1767.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091633981574041858" 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;I can't get enough of the fireweed. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/585783054989619660-1232357878921143730?l=idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/feeds/1232357878921143730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=585783054989619660&amp;postID=1232357878921143730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1232357878921143730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/585783054989619660/posts/default/1232357878921143730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idahogirlinalaska.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-best-eagle-tour-ever.html' title='My best Eagle tour EVER!!'/><author><name>Rachel Cousin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11614499820736993620</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RqkgcS4HUiI/AAAAAAAAARU/_lJi7xqmydU/s72-c/HPIM1809.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585783054989619660.post-5524249445141893467</id><published>2007-07-16T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T16:45:17.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Denali Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rpvxe8AyZ8I/AAAAAAAAAO8/NUtt09Q-hds/s1600-h/HPIM1757.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/Rpvxe8AyZ8I/AAAAAAAAAO8/NUtt09Q-hds/s320/HPIM1757.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087925717852907458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday I drove to Denali National Park to pick up a group and bring them back to Fairbanks. I was SO LUCKY because as I left Fairbanks at 6:30 in the morning, the Alaska Range was still clear and I got to see the mountain! Denali! Mt. McKinley to you Lower 48ers. It was out bright and beautiful in all its amazing glory!! Not very many people get to see it because it is so huge that it creates its own weather and so its usually covered in clouds. I couldn't believe it. I was really excited. Anyway, I continued on to Denali Park, picked up my group, took them to the Visitor's Center for 45 minutes and then we headed for Fairbanks. This picture is at the Parks Monument. The highway to Denali Park (and on to Anchorage) is the Parks highway. The sun had just come out and the fireweed looked very beautiful. Too bad I don't have a better camera so you could really see just how amazing they look right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RpvxUsAyZ7I/AAAAAAAAAO0/rMZhICMDDgM/s1600-h/HPIM1758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZcAxM-sTXGs/RpvxUsAyZ7I/AAAAAAAAAO0/rMZhICMDDgM/s320/HPIM1758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087925541759248306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is the view from the Parks Monument. You're loo
