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About Me

Single tired mom of four. Lover of chocolate and coffee - not necessarily in that order. Lover of Jesus, photographer by trade, Photoshop junkie and crime TV watcher.

blogher

RSS Hallie Westcott Photography

I am Lego Challenged

December 28, 2009

I see nothing more than a wall when I look at Legos, but not my children….they have vision.

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Yet Another Creature

October 2, 2008

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Frogs, salamanders, cats, squirrels and now a chipmunk.  I’m afraid to think about what might show up next.

Oh and sorry Pirate Jacky.  I tried to smuggle him from his temporary home, so you could do some chipmunk whispering, but they caught on to my tricks.

 

Class Break

September 15, 2008

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I ran out of class tonight along side a couple male classmates to find snacks and use the phone.  Time was about up, so I wandered back upstairs and into the bathroom before going back to class.

I admired the trendy facility, which I had never been in until tonight.  As I exited the stall, to my horror was the fifty-year-old male classmate that I had just walked outside with.   He was facing the wall and didn’t realize I was there, which was a good thing because I was frozen in my spot, all the while trying to process why he was in the women’s room.

In the seconds that followed, every conceivable thought raced through my head. “Is, he in the women’s room, am I in the men’s room…is this a communal bathroom I should know about?” It suddenly hit me, I must be in the men’s room, (although there were no urinals in sight,) and I had no where to run. 

To avoid trying to hide, then getting caught, if saw me trying to duck back into the stall, I blurted out from behind him, “Oh my gosh, I am in the men’s room!” 

He turned around completely startled and started to laugh hysterically at the hilarity of the situation, which was by the way a good thing considering, I was laughing out of control by this point.

I calmly walked over to the sink and proceeded to wash my hands, (and spotted the urinals in an out of the way location.)  Just then a twenty-something came through the door.  I laughed and looked at him, “Sorry, wrong bathroom.  You don’t mind if I finish washing my hands do you?”

He politely smiled and stood there dumbfounded by the door until I was finished.  I walked out with my head up, laughing at myself all the way back to class.  My poor classmate was laughing so hard, I didn’t think he would recover.

Although this was all very funny, it seems like these kinds of things are becoming much more common place.  I’m a bit afraid to find out what I’ll do next.  And no suggestions please. 

I’m Not Ready

August 30, 2008

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Green is my favorite color and it’s threatening it’s departure.  I want to yell, “Stop it!  We haven’t even been to the beach yet!”  I’m not ready for naked trees and cold winds. 

I want the summer to linger, like when I was a child.  When every night held garden picked, salted cucumbers on the front steps and forced baths to wash off the stains of fresh cut grass on my bare feet.  Fireflies illuminated glass jars and the ice cream man’s song was something to behold.  When watching out for cars rounding the corner was my only responsibility and the sound of crickets lulled my play filled body to sleep.

Just a little longer…please?  I’m not ready yet.

 

 

 

Leave Them Alone for A Minute

August 26, 2008

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Leave them alone for a minute and look what happens.  The spray dye was left over from the plays last weekend.

Fortunately it washes right out, or she might be getting beat with that corn and not hiding behind it!

 

My Home Pharmacy

August 18, 2008

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And this isn’t all of them.  Soon I might need a med box or maybe a shovel.

 

Praying for Mist

August 17, 2008

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To say “when it rains it pours” at my house would be a drastic understatement, it’s much more similar to a typhoon.  For me, that means God must be readying me for something big and for you it means, don’t stand to close, you might get very wet.

So here I am, on top of every other bump and valley, sick again.  My throat is on fire and my nose is running like a bucket.  Do you see that cute little blue eyed boy on the post below?  Don’t let his good looks fool you, he is a walking virus.

I wept on my daughter’s shoulder in the driveway, feeling very sorry for myself and wondering when I was going to catch a break.  I’m not usually the type that feels sorry for myself, but lately, I must admit, I have felt that way more often than not.

Unfortunately, pity parties do little to help, but I can dream can’t I?

Well, I’m off.  The NyQuil and I have a big date tonight.