<?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-5535377895802766803</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:03:49.685-08:00</updated><category term='Happy Birthday Melissa'/><category term='Hike to Echo Lake'/><category term='Post the 4th photo from the 4th picture folder.'/><category term='Father&apos;s Day'/><category term='politics'/><category term='The Cannery'/><category term='Camping at Greenwater'/><title type='text'>The Mortons</title><subtitle type='html'>The edited life of Melissa, Ben, Baby Cameron and Sadie Dog Morton</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2791629177703647392</id><published>2010-10-19T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T22:17:47.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I will update my blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5hNQA145I/AAAAAAAAAjg/JpMqbddgnFE/s1600/2010+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5hNQA145I/AAAAAAAAAjg/JpMqbddgnFE/s320/2010+064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529964272722240402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has only been five months. Did you think I would never update again? Here are some recent photos of Cameron. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is getting so fun. He is outgoing and loves to be around people. He is always happy and has the "flirty eyes" down already. (The old ladies at church eat it up!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, Cameron is my little buddy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words: Ma-ma (YAY!), Dada, Baba. He is using a lot of jargon and says something that sounds a lot like Grandpa and Sadie (in the right context). But I don't think I can really count it yet. He mimics our influxes and repeats the tune to his toy train: All Aboard and choo choo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is getting close to walking. He is cruising everywhere and stands for (we counted it the other day) a good 25 seconds. That is a long time in baby time. He is a speed demon little crawler and loves to tease Momma. &lt;br /&gt;Favorite places to hide: in the pantry, in Ben's closet, and in the blanket closet. &lt;br /&gt;Favorite place to seek: in the shower, the bathroom, and the computer room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other favorites: Music. He still does a sort of baby singing and now he loves to dance. He loves story time at the library with the other babies. They sing a lot there, too. But his most favorite thing is his Daddy. He is one Daddy's boy! He gets so excited to see Ben. I think they are going to be best of friends. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5fK3kFq1I/AAAAAAAAAjQ/XNEqAHIChOA/s1600/2010+148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5fK3kFq1I/AAAAAAAAAjQ/XNEqAHIChOA/s320/2010+148.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529962032776194898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, he is in a toy wagon. That was today. Ben thought it would be fun to push him around in it. He loved it. And posed for all my pictures. &lt;br /&gt;The wagon is now a close second to his favorite toy: his choo choo train. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e7BaDweI/AAAAAAAAAjI/WINGKjQ7SyA/s1600/2010+101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e7BaDweI/AAAAAAAAAjI/WINGKjQ7SyA/s320/2010+101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529961760540574178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonesome Lake. Sunday Drive with our friends the Harringtons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e6joVNVI/AAAAAAAAAjA/GX8JUnhrzGw/s1600/2010+065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e6joVNVI/AAAAAAAAAjA/GX8JUnhrzGw/s320/2010+065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529961752547374418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e6Vl6wHI/AAAAAAAAAi4/FT40icvTzj4/s1600/2010+085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e6Vl6wHI/AAAAAAAAAi4/FT40icvTzj4/s320/2010+085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529961748779155570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was another Sunday Drive to a park in Tacoma. It was right on the Sound but had a desert feel. It actually was an old quarry that they made into a park and a golf course. Interesting little place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e5zd6D6I/AAAAAAAAAiw/A7YHfU-rQkI/s1600/2010+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e5zd6D6I/AAAAAAAAAiw/A7YHfU-rQkI/s320/2010+041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529961739618750370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e5tfxx8I/AAAAAAAAAio/qEm3Tt_jj24/s1600/2010+034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5e5tfxx8I/AAAAAAAAAio/qEm3Tt_jj24/s320/2010+034.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529961738015983554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our world as we know it is about to change. Cameron turns one year old in five weeks and I am sure he will soon become a toddler! We looked at Cameron this week and said "He doesn't look like a baby anymore!" Nope, he isn't a baby anymore. A little sad but exciting to watch him learn and change. He is growing up, but that's what babies do!  (Thanks Mom for the perspective!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2791629177703647392?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2791629177703647392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2791629177703647392' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2791629177703647392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2791629177703647392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/10/maybe-i-will-update-my-blog.html' title='Maybe I will update my blog'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/TL5hNQA145I/AAAAAAAAAjg/JpMqbddgnFE/s72-c/2010+064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-831003057480224913</id><published>2010-05-23T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T19:51:06.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cameron and Applesauce</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3d3482dac78177dd" 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" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d3482dac78177dd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331622071%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D639AE58A8B917DA03B6A840531E1880D83C7706F.411FBB7F6B4FF6A08A247829BE8CDADCD37186F1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d3482dac78177dd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dc0-4uYqca5Uce1Lfj638BwDs7Eg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d3482dac78177dd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331622071%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D639AE58A8B917DA03B6A840531E1880D83C7706F.411FBB7F6B4FF6A08A247829BE8CDADCD37186F1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d3482dac78177dd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dc0-4uYqca5Uce1Lfj638BwDs7Eg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Food: Rice Cereal. He can't get it fast enough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Potatoes comes in as a close second. With applesauce and pears in the "barely can it choke down" category.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-831003057480224913?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/831003057480224913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=831003057480224913' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/831003057480224913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/831003057480224913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/05/cameron-and-applesauce.html' title='Cameron and Applesauce'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3748511021524750448</id><published>2010-05-23T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T19:39:37.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures...What we all really want, anyway.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmuzxD-ZI/AAAAAAAAAiY/Ks-n6ODIlr4/s1600/Spring2010+116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmuzxD-ZI/AAAAAAAAAiY/Ks-n6ODIlr4/s320/Spring2010+116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474660513889909138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmuc2ZqFI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/GR2DUejjznI/s1600/Spring2010+113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmuc2ZqFI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/GR2DUejjznI/s320/Spring2010+113.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474660507738286162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmt7zMi3I/AAAAAAAAAiI/2kOD0AFTBtQ/s1600/Spring2010+103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmt7zMi3I/AAAAAAAAAiI/2kOD0AFTBtQ/s320/Spring2010+103.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474660498866473842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmtU99vRI/AAAAAAAAAiA/6wZC2ga1Csw/s1600/Spring2010+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmtU99vRI/AAAAAAAAAiA/6wZC2ga1Csw/s320/Spring2010+005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474660488442658066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nms3cldNI/AAAAAAAAAh4/nks9GkOD0oA/s1600/Spring2010+090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nms3cldNI/AAAAAAAAAh4/nks9GkOD0oA/s320/Spring2010+090.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474660480518026450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlscYsw1I/AAAAAAAAAhw/ya1AgcqBesY/s1600/Spring2010+108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlscYsw1I/AAAAAAAAAhw/ya1AgcqBesY/s320/Spring2010+108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474659373742342994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlr6UV7EI/AAAAAAAAAho/eYcO4F2LhAM/s1600/April2010+087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlr6UV7EI/AAAAAAAAAho/eYcO4F2LhAM/s320/April2010+087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474659364597263426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlrefIyLI/AAAAAAAAAhg/AoSYCkV4pHc/s1600/April2010+038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlrefIyLI/AAAAAAAAAhg/AoSYCkV4pHc/s320/April2010+038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474659357126346930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlq0zSsLI/AAAAAAAAAhY/Mpq7ByprJ8Q/s1600/April2010+083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlq0zSsLI/AAAAAAAAAhY/Mpq7ByprJ8Q/s320/April2010+083.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474659345936593074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlqFPTGKI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/orooyh-p7k4/s1600/April2010+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nlqFPTGKI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/orooyh-p7k4/s320/April2010+037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474659333169158306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3748511021524750448?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3748511021524750448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3748511021524750448' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3748511021524750448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3748511021524750448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/05/pictureswhat-we-all-really-want-anyway.html' title='Pictures...What we all really want, anyway.'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_nmuzxD-ZI/AAAAAAAAAiY/Ks-n6ODIlr4/s72-c/Spring2010+116.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6657555240144236297</id><published>2010-05-23T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T19:30:47.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njsD2e1JI/AAAAAAAAAhI/2xwg9w3p-Gw/s1600/Spring2010+076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njsD2e1JI/AAAAAAAAAhI/2xwg9w3p-Gw/s320/Spring2010+076.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474657168133117074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njrS6WCnI/AAAAAAAAAhA/xjth1HNNKVk/s1600/Spring2010+066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njrS6WCnI/AAAAAAAAAhA/xjth1HNNKVk/s320/Spring2010+066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474657154995980914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njq_wen3I/AAAAAAAAAg4/Eva-vpiCbKk/s1600/Spring2010+063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njq_wen3I/AAAAAAAAAg4/Eva-vpiCbKk/s320/Spring2010+063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474657149854326642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 5th Anniversary! We spent the night at the Lighthouse on the Hamersly Bed and Breakfast in Shelton, WA. It is a beautiful, waterfront Bed and Breakfast on the Hood Canal. We loved it! The place was gorgeous, surprisingly affordable, and the breakfast was awesome. The whole experience was so incredibly relaxing. Just what we needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6657555240144236297?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6657555240144236297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6657555240144236297' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6657555240144236297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6657555240144236297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/05/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S_njsD2e1JI/AAAAAAAAAhI/2xwg9w3p-Gw/s72-c/Spring2010+076.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4121370940057932045</id><published>2010-03-05T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T14:28:23.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cameron Boy Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBqk9WDOI/AAAAAAAAAgE/lawcbVxcCVg/s1600-h/Cameron0-3months+249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBqk9WDOI/AAAAAAAAAgE/lawcbVxcCVg/s320/Cameron0-3months+249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445275992943103202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron is three months old.  &lt;br /&gt;I thought I better update this blog before I forget how he was at this stage. I know he is still little but he is starting to show off his personality.  &lt;br /&gt;So far, Cameron is a talker. He loves to jibber jabber and coo. The other day Ben was holding him on his chest and Cameron apparently wanted to say something. He let out this loud, aburpt GAAH! It caught us both off guard and we had to laugh. He always has a lot to say. I don't see him as a shy person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron is a morning person.  Every morning at around 7 a.m. he is ready to get up for the day. When I peek over his crib to come get him he is already smiling. Usually at his mobile, but he is smiling. &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/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5F-2SFvkpI/AAAAAAAAAfs/PCHu3iiOJPs/s1600-h/Cameron0-3months+290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5F-2SFvkpI/AAAAAAAAAfs/PCHu3iiOJPs/s320/Cameron0-3months+290.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445272895501603474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a little glutton. He loves to eat and when he does he downs four ounces in five minutes. Hence the nickname, Ben gave him: Piglet.  But the nickname also works for his snorts.  He snorts when he cries, eats and laughs. It is pretty cute, especially if you are his mom and you think everything he does is cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He loves to sing. Well, coo…to a beat. We are a singing family—I am not saying we sound good …I just said we do it.  Ben and I always make up songs to familiar tunes and Cameron loves it. He probably won’t when he is 16 but for now he just laughs and laughs at Mom and Dad’s little jingles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBAjV-BdI/AAAAAAAAAf0/LaG9vWkoiGo/s1600-h/Cameron0-3months+181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBAjV-BdI/AAAAAAAAAf0/LaG9vWkoiGo/s320/Cameron0-3months+181.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445275270955009490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron is a little flirt. He loves people and only screamed once when a stranger held him. Hopefully, that will continue and he will remain a people person.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBRsT6_HI/AAAAAAAAAf8/tn-2KT8ml50/s1600-h/Cameron0-3months+176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBRsT6_HI/AAAAAAAAAf8/tn-2KT8ml50/s320/Cameron0-3months+176.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445275565420117106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron is a very chilled out baby.  He rarely cries for no reason.  We know we are extremely lucky to have such a good baby.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GEcXvFlOI/AAAAAAAAAgM/kE2iL8LtYWQ/s1600-h/100_0954.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GEcXvFlOI/AAAAAAAAAgM/kE2iL8LtYWQ/s320/100_0954.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445279047410357474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There is the Cameron update.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4121370940057932045?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4121370940057932045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4121370940057932045' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4121370940057932045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4121370940057932045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/03/cameron-is-three-months-old.html' title='Cameron Boy Update'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S5GBqk9WDOI/AAAAAAAAAgE/lawcbVxcCVg/s72-c/Cameron0-3months+249.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6577543777347706860</id><published>2010-02-01T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T18:00:25.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Babies Sleep</title><content type='html'>I am sure every Mom has watched their kids sleep. &lt;br /&gt;Well, the other night I was just checking on Cameron and looking at how peaceful he looked as he slept. Then when I went into my room Ben was sleeping on the bed. He looked just as peaceful. I couldn't believe how much they looked alike. They have so many similar facial features it is amazing. Their noses, lips, profiles...Then suddenly, Ben's eyes shot open! Oops. &lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry. Could you feel me staring at you?" &lt;br /&gt;"Yes," he groaned as he turned over and went back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not stop laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you can't stare at sleeping adults like you can babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6577543777347706860?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6577543777347706860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6577543777347706860' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6577543777347706860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6577543777347706860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/02/watching-babiies-sleep.html' title='When Babies Sleep'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4985433901348548967</id><published>2010-01-30T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T22:20:16.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby Story</title><content type='html'>My baby turned two months old yesterday. I can’t believe it has already been 60 days since I was holding him for the first time in the hospital. I remember thinking how much he looked like his daddy. I remember feeling calm; happy. I was ready to learn how to be a mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was due on November 24. But my Mom had a feeling about the 11th and we thought the 17th had a nice ring to it. (that was actually my original due date so I thought it was more accurate) So, my sweet mom came up from Utah on the 10th—just in case the baby decided to come then.  Well, he didn’t. He didn’t come on the 17th either. For those three weeks, my mom and I just went to movies, shopped, talked and walked. We read and read, mostly baby books specifically: “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” which became our bible. She told birth stories and we talked everything through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never one to do well with medical things. I passed out during my kindergarten shots and then again when I got my cholesterol checked in third grade. I even fainted when I got my ears pierced…there was a needle involved. So…I was a little nervous that I wasn’t going to be able to handle the whole labor and delivery. For months I was mentally preparing myself. I watched YouTube videos of every kind of birth technique---even the c-sections. I decided that I wanted this baby bad enough to go through all of this in order to get him here. I just wanted it as natural as possible. The less needles the better. The synthetic medical treatments freaked me out more than natural childbirth. Pitocin.  The doctor breaking my water. The epidural. I realized it wasn’t the pain or the natural things your body goes through in labor that scared me. It was the modern involvement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured my body would know what to do. It had come this far.  So why not let it run its course and get this baby out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well…Cameron had other plans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was contracting every night for three weeks. Wake-me-up-in-the-night contractions. But nothing. They would last for two hours from 2 a.m. to 4 then it would stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby wasn’t dropping. At my due date appointment, the doctor said I had one more week maybe two!  (My Mom and I decided that Dr. Edstrom had put a hex me, so the baby wouldn’t come before the Dr. got back from China.)  The problem was I was running out of November. I had made a decision to quit caregiving in December to recover and take care of the baby…well, if I don’t work I don’t have insurance. So, I had everything figured out that the new insurance would start on December 1. The difference between a November birthday and a December birthday was going to be about $10,000. &lt;br /&gt;…sigh….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There went my natural delivery. Bring on the needles. The Pitocin. The epidural. Everything I didn’t want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the night I mourned my “perfect” childbirth. I was up in the night with more contractions. When I went to the bathroom the contractions had slowed down and I knew it wasn’t it. I knew I wasn’t going to be having this baby like I wanted to. I wasn’t going to feel all the sensations of the most miraculous human experience. I wasn’t going to conquer childbirth and join the ranks of the women warriors. &lt;br /&gt;I knelt down on the tile floor and just cried. I cried and cried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was done mourning and feeling bad for myself, I realized this was the beginning; the beginning of the sacrifices. I had to do what was best for my baby. It didn’t really matter if I got what I wanted out of this delivery—all that mattered was that he made it here safe and healthy. &lt;br /&gt;I was at peace with being induced and at that moment I knew I would be at peace with any decision the doctor made in order to bring me my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday morning at 5 a.m., November 28, 2009, I got packed for the hospital. Ben gave me a blessing of comfort and strength and we drove to the hospital. &lt;br /&gt;It was the most surreal experience. We had imagined the chaos of my water breaking and the contractions building. But this was nothing like that. We were calm and joking around. We made jokes with the nursing staff and smiled the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still didn’t want too many needles and drugs so I brawled Pitocin all naturale (well, minus one dose of loopy drugs that I kept referring to as my two glasses of wine)…for 12 hours!  The Dr broke my water and did some other odd balloon procedure to manually dilate me but nothing worked. The baby without a name would not drop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at 8 p.m. when the nurse told me it was going to be another five hours at least, I got an epidural. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Brown, had the most calming personality. When he walked in the room I knew I could trust him. I felt this calming feeling and I knew I could handle a needle going into my spine. Me! Remember, the one who passes out during health class! Yes, I felt calm enough to sit still and not faint. And I didn’t. It was a little miracle in itself. My mom and my wonderful nurse helped me through it. My epidural was just enough that I could still feel my legs but no pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I was able to sleep. As I was lying there, all the sudden a group of five or six nurses flipped on the light and burled into the room. Something was definitely wrong. Three nurses twisted and pulled me into all sorts of different positions, while another nurse messed with my IV and the two more watched the monitor screen. The baby’s heart rate was dropping. Normal fetal heart rates are at about 170 and my baby dropped to 60. &lt;br /&gt;The mood in the room was no longer lighthearted. I began to cry, but I quickly pulled in the tears and tried to stay calm. “Everything was going to be alright.” Then my mom started her worried eyes. And Ben stared out the window, trying to distract himself. He was really upset but he didn’t want to cry. He knew that would upset me.  Watching him, I felt grateful that we had waited these four years to have a baby. I know him. I know he was caring and praying for me. But he couldn’t hold my hand at that moment. He knew I didn’t need him to hold me. He knows when I need him to hold me and I didn’t need that right then. All I needed was for him to not cry. We couldn’t lose it. We had to keep it together. Ben later told me he thought for a moment that he might lose our little boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We carried on for a few more hours. But with every hard contraction the baby’s heart rate would drop.  Never as low as that traumatic time but he was in distress. We had been in labor for 18 hours, when the doctor advised a C-section. The baby was turned out toward my hips instead of faced down and he couldn’t turn. The doctor said the baby was still a little high to turn him manually and with the heart rate dropping it would be too much for him anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I wished I could have delivered him, I knew a C-section was best at this point. They wheeled me into the operating room. A sterile, white room with huge bright lights on the ceiling. I was strapped to the table with my arms outstretched. As I was waiting for Ben, I started to panic. I couldn’t handle this room without him. Dr. Brown was there again as the anesthesiologist but I didn’t feel the calming aura until Ben came into the room. He held my hand. He knew I couldn’t do this without him. Ben looked me in the eyes and I didn’t have to say anything. For a moment he put his hand on my head and closed his eyes. Still without saying a word, he was giving me a blessing just at the moment I needed it. I don’t know exactly what he said but I could feel the spirit of comfort overwhelm me that everything was going to be alright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I heard him cry. &lt;br /&gt;My baby was here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted to do was see him. From across the room, I finally got a glimpse of my little boy and I started to cry. I was so happy to see him. I loved him so much already and felt like I knew him. He was my boy. We had already spent nine months together. I knew he got the hiccups in the afternoon and slept a lot in the evenings. I knew he got up at 2 a.m. and was going to have a hard time sitting still. But more than anything I knew he was going to make me and Ben happy.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he really does. I love my sweet baby Cameron.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4985433901348548967?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4985433901348548967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4985433901348548967' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4985433901348548967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4985433901348548967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-baby-story.html' title='My Baby Story'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3134992641716950015</id><published>2010-01-12T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T22:04:08.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Many faces of Cameron</title><content type='html'>The turtle face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hQ8PLFSI/AAAAAAAAAfM/Kr0SNsKTet4/s1600-h/CameronPhotos+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hQ8PLFSI/AAAAAAAAAfM/Kr0SNsKTet4/s320/CameronPhotos+032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426100069726885154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Shy Boy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hQUP6pTI/AAAAAAAAAfE/Li8IranDv9U/s1600-h/CameronPhotos+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hQUP6pTI/AAAAAAAAAfE/Li8IranDv9U/s320/CameronPhotos+048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426100058992583986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intrigue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hP8q2aGI/AAAAAAAAAe8/oueJZfLPmP8/s1600-h/CameronPhotos+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hP8q2aGI/AAAAAAAAAe8/oueJZfLPmP8/s320/CameronPhotos+041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426100052663101538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Smile! Just like Daddy's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hPdpH2uI/AAAAAAAAAe0/eO1a1Qg16kw/s1600-h/CameronPhotos+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hPdpH2uI/AAAAAAAAAe0/eO1a1Qg16kw/s320/CameronPhotos+040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426100044334357218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I love this kid!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3134992641716950015?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3134992641716950015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3134992641716950015' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3134992641716950015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3134992641716950015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2010/01/many-faces-of-cameron.html' title='Many faces of Cameron'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/S01hQ8PLFSI/AAAAAAAAAfM/Kr0SNsKTet4/s72-c/CameronPhotos+032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-8654815884780525078</id><published>2009-11-30T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T17:11:30.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cameron Michael Morton</title><content type='html'>Here he is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW7dCU23sI/AAAAAAAAAeM/2T-L3dn7lmI/s1600/baby+morton+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW7dCU23sI/AAAAAAAAAeM/2T-L3dn7lmI/s320/baby+morton+022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410436634870472386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW85WiPzJI/AAAAAAAAAes/AJXI8L3oHm8/s1600/baby+morton+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW85WiPzJI/AAAAAAAAAes/AJXI8L3oHm8/s320/baby+morton+020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410438220843306130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW8YHwenhI/AAAAAAAAAek/eeS2iiYs1_0/s1600/baby+morton+028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW8YHwenhI/AAAAAAAAAek/eeS2iiYs1_0/s320/baby+morton+028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410437649940782610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Stats:&lt;br /&gt;Five days overdue&lt;br /&gt;Born Nov. 29, 2009&lt;br /&gt;1:04 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;8 lbs 2 ounces&lt;br /&gt;21 inches long&lt;br /&gt;18 hours of labor &lt;br /&gt;2 minutes for the Dr. to cut him out during a C-Section!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the details later when Momma feels like reliving them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby Cameron is so sweet and we love him so much already! Isn't he such a little Ben?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-8654815884780525078?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8654815884780525078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=8654815884780525078' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8654815884780525078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8654815884780525078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/11/cameron-michael-morton.html' title='Cameron Michael Morton'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SxW7dCU23sI/AAAAAAAAAeM/2T-L3dn7lmI/s72-c/baby+morton+022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6413775567558848717</id><published>2009-11-05T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:21:52.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I am still pregnant...</title><content type='html'>People are funny. They act so surprised that I am still pregnant and mobile. But I guess I understand...I could go into labor any day at this point and a lot of women get induced at 38 weeks. I am just trying to be patient.  &lt;br /&gt;We are getting more excited as time goes by. I can't believe I only have 19 days until my due date. It has gone by so fast for me. &lt;br /&gt;I am feeling good. I am taking it easy and preparing the last little things before the baby is here. I really feel like I should be more stressed but I am not. I know everything will just work out.  I have my freak out moments but for the most part I am calm. &lt;br /&gt;My mom is coming to stay with us next Tuesday. I am excited. There are times in your life even as a grown woman that you just need your mom. First baby qualifies. &lt;br /&gt;Still no name finalized for the little Kumquat. So, help us choose and vote in the poll. &lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to meet the little guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6413775567558848717?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6413775567558848717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6413775567558848717' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6413775567558848717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6413775567558848717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/11/yes-i-am-still-pregnant.html' title='Yes, I am still pregnant...'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4949647761811774402</id><published>2009-09-26T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T20:59:06.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shower me, Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dGSK-zhI/AAAAAAAAAck/yX0r20LGXBg/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dGSK-zhI/AAAAAAAAAck/yX0r20LGXBg/s320/Baby+Shower+001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385985304408542738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my baby shower today. I feel so loved. Thank you to all of you who came, who decorated, who brainstormed, stressed and organized, who made invitations, who showered me with love, gifts, advice and friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all the thoughtful gifts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the adorable pint-sized clothes. And the creative clothes line that displayed the array. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7i13X6juI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FF5Hwy_c71Q/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7i13X6juI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FF5Hwy_c71Q/s320/Baby+Shower+050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385991619406892770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e3P4aBQI/AAAAAAAAAdM/mGc1IwkgtHM/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e3P4aBQI/AAAAAAAAAdM/mGc1IwkgtHM/s320/Baby+Shower+048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385987245118981378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the hand-made quilts,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f4ZetcSI/AAAAAAAAAds/IcW8CbWvgbE/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f4ZetcSI/AAAAAAAAAds/IcW8CbWvgbE/s320/Baby+Shower+063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385988364387053858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f40dPwOI/AAAAAAAAAd0/YkKvvCJ8tiY/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f40dPwOI/AAAAAAAAAd0/YkKvvCJ8tiY/s320/Baby+Shower+064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385988371628671202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;handmade baby hats,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f37-SUcI/AAAAAAAAAdk/nGa1x-l5oUs/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7f37-SUcI/AAAAAAAAAdk/nGa1x-l5oUs/s320/Baby+Shower+073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385988356466430402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and homemade nursing shield and boppy cover. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e3uaygAI/AAAAAAAAAdU/mmoviqSWQW8/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e3uaygAI/AAAAAAAAAdU/mmoviqSWQW8/s320/Baby+Shower+057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385987253316255746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(funny side story: when I opened the nursing shield and boppy, there were these two little tee-pees...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e4GLbzWI/AAAAAAAAAdc/pDArerVJLYc/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e4GLbzWI/AAAAAAAAAdc/pDArerVJLYc/s320/Baby+Shower+058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385987259694304610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, with the theme of the present...I couldn't help but think that they went along with it...I know I am a small cup size but come on! To prove my point, I asked Ben what he thought they were and he confirmed..."Nipple Covers?"  LOL Oh man, I am laughing just thinking about it. Well, they are actually Pee-Pee Tee-Pees to shield the new mom from her infant male urinating on her. Isn't that a great idea?!?? And hilarious misinterpretation?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the diaper cake. I know how much time, effort and money goes into a making a handmade, creative gift. Isn't this diaper cake just cute?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7iNAemy7I/AAAAAAAAAd8/EZvOA_aNeJc/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7iNAemy7I/AAAAAAAAAd8/EZvOA_aNeJc/s320/Baby+Shower+005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385990917476240306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the quilt we made during the shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dIJA5hII/AAAAAAAAAc8/DEHdV7-kAJY/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dIJA5hII/AAAAAAAAAc8/DEHdV7-kAJY/s320/Baby+Shower+009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385985336310072450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is dump truck from Ben's childhood that he insisted on filling with chocolate and displaying at the shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dG9hsLFI/AAAAAAAAAcs/t1JZYo708lU/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dG9hsLFI/AAAAAAAAAcs/t1JZYo708lU/s320/Baby+Shower+002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385985316046515282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the happy, pregnant lady---fully content (but a little tired) with the eventful day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e2Uxv0JI/AAAAAAAAAdE/POUpUtsSPFk/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7e2Uxv0JI/AAAAAAAAAdE/POUpUtsSPFk/s320/Baby+Shower+047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385987229253357714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you again...especially to Jan, Jenny, Megan, Rick and Ben for pulling it all together. I love you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4949647761811774402?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4949647761811774402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4949647761811774402' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4949647761811774402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4949647761811774402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/09/shower-me-baby.html' title='Shower me, Baby'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sr7dGSK-zhI/AAAAAAAAAck/yX0r20LGXBg/s72-c/Baby+Shower+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2628015499054600956</id><published>2009-09-09T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T14:34:40.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Victoria, BC That's in Canada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgemhHTVOI/AAAAAAAAAcc/uASEpGUXQsM/s1600-h/Victoria+085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgemhHTVOI/AAAAAAAAAcc/uASEpGUXQsM/s320/Victoria+085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379583401966916834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgeSesngKI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cwAcLAabDpI/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgeSesngKI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cwAcLAabDpI/s320/VictoriaBelly+058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379583057720737954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgeRrVmdLI/AAAAAAAAAcM/JFFWic-y0TI/s1600-h/Victoria+075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgeRrVmdLI/AAAAAAAAAcM/JFFWic-y0TI/s320/Victoria+075.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379583043933992114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdPspNOUI/AAAAAAAAAcE/drQIImBJwwQ/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdPspNOUI/AAAAAAAAAcE/drQIImBJwwQ/s320/VictoriaBelly+116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379581910413293890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdPL29T1I/AAAAAAAAAb8/wCLNSnTVy-k/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdPL29T1I/AAAAAAAAAb8/wCLNSnTVy-k/s320/VictoriaBelly+123.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379581901612601170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdOm1GXQI/AAAAAAAAAb0/ffLJ_yetG-g/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgdOm1GXQI/AAAAAAAAAb0/ffLJ_yetG-g/s320/VictoriaBelly+118.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379581891672694018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben was not a huge fan of Canada after being strip searched at the border. OK we added the strip part...but we &lt;em&gt;were&lt;/em&gt; searched and violated. Border patrol is doing their job, I suppose such a young guy and a pregnant chick could have been kidnapping that cute, little old couple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we finally got on our way we had a wonderful time in Victoria with my Mom and Dad. (if you don't count all the lesbian couples...not that there is anything wrong with that...But wow I have never seen so many women dressed like men and I live near Seattle!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...we stayed in a city loft right downtown next to China town and Market Square. The shops were fun to see but the best part of course was The Butchart Gardens. That was gorgeous! I loved it. They put on a fireworks show every Saturday in the summer and I have never seen anything like it. The pyrotechnics were amazing! It was more of a little show all set to music. Canada knows how to put on a good show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went on a boat tour at Butchart and a boat tour at Deception Pass near Anacortes, WA. Ben can't help but want to be on the water. Counting the ferries we were on a boat ride everyday of the trip. We saw a dolphin on the ferry too! We were like little kids but it was so fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Mom and Dad left, we missed them alot. We enjoyed sleeping in our own bed and Sadie loved having her house back to get all hairy. (I think I will have to ban her from the couches and beds when the baby comes)  Ben and I are going to take up golf. We were better than I thought we would be. Thanks Dad for letting us enjoy your favorite pass time with you. My Mom also made me the CUTEST blankets for the baby with matching burp clothes. Ben actually got after me because I was taking a nap with the quilt...He said I couldn't use it because it was for the baby! Isn't that messed up? I am one with baby...and that little quilt is heavenly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I better go and get some work done. I need to work before I head off to my prenatal yoga class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Momma would be so proud. I canned 90 quarts of peaches this week! Well, 30 of them were for Jan but still!  That means we have a jar of peaches for every week of the year plus some. Now, we have to take care of those apples that are falling from the trees in the front yard and Ben has requested Strawberry jam. My friend also called me with too many plums....can those up too. The Morton Cannery. We should start a business!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2628015499054600956?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2628015499054600956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2628015499054600956' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2628015499054600956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2628015499054600956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/09/victoria-bc-thats-in-canada.html' title='Victoria, BC That&apos;s in Canada'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgemhHTVOI/AAAAAAAAAcc/uASEpGUXQsM/s72-c/Victoria+085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3835301049412619602</id><published>2009-09-09T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T14:02:39.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddah Belly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgVgGZMiGI/AAAAAAAAAbk/dUwt0qDlA7E/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgVgGZMiGI/AAAAAAAAAbk/dUwt0qDlA7E/s320/VictoriaBelly+006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379573396110346338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there is your beloved, Buddah belly shot. Ben and I are thinking about making a paper chain to count down the days until the baby is here. I can't believe I am already 30 weeks!  I don't care what people say I think 10 weeks is not that long. We are definitely on the downhill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel spoiled at such a good pregnancy I have had. I have felt great considering how alot of women feel during pregnancy. The baby is kicking like crazy...I think he might have restless legs syndrome. I joke now, but he sometimes kicks like he can't stand being in there and I just imagine him trying to sit still outside the womb. He is going to be a little Ben. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I wanted to give all my long distance friends a little preview of the belly. I actually probably should post another one soon because I am expanding by the day...Let's hear it for short torsos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgVgotQ9vI/AAAAAAAAAbs/uU8juFFPJNc/s1600-h/VictoriaBelly+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgVgotQ9vI/AAAAAAAAAbs/uU8juFFPJNc/s320/VictoriaBelly+011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379573405321328370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3835301049412619602?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3835301049412619602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3835301049412619602' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3835301049412619602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3835301049412619602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/09/buddah-belly.html' title='Buddah Belly'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SqgVgGZMiGI/AAAAAAAAAbk/dUwt0qDlA7E/s72-c/VictoriaBelly+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-5158526364894676326</id><published>2009-07-29T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T21:23:53.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What have we been up to?</title><content type='html'>Wow, a whole lot since I last posted. Let's go back and see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEX66E5bXI/AAAAAAAAAa8/gXKv9hxKaZQ/s1600-h/LakeQuinalt+035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEX66E5bXI/AAAAAAAAAa8/gXKv9hxKaZQ/s200/LakeQuinalt+035.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364094931964620146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4th Anniversary Weekend Trip to Lake Quinault&lt;/strong&gt;---Highlight: The Lake Quinalt Lodge, the largest spruce tree in the world, and just spending time with Ben. Lowlight: No resturaunts in the town besides the lodge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Work Trip to Chicago in end of May&lt;/span&gt;--Highlight: The Regional Seminars made great stories and I met a lot of new sources. Lowlight: Passing out on the plane and puking on the freeway in front of Maureen (my lovely tour guide/client's wife)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCyI0jkqGI/AAAAAAAAAYs/be61S4obWnA/s1600-h/Hawaii+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCyI0jkqGI/AAAAAAAAAYs/be61S4obWnA/s200/Hawaii+016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363983020814805090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Laurel Retreat at Ensign Ranch. &lt;/strong&gt;Highlight: The Slip'n'Slide. Lowlight: No Horseback Riding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laurel High Adventure May Campout&lt;/span&gt;--Highlight: Backpacking is always good. Lowlight: Part of the road to the trail head was washed away from last year's flood so we ended up just hiking on a road just to reach a snowed in trailhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Laurel High Adventure June Campout&lt;/span&gt;--Highlight: Beautiful Trail. Lowlight: Only four girls came and I had to scramble for women leaders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxWKGXFYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/Y15pXPGdMrc/s1600-h/us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxWKGXFYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/Y15pXPGdMrc/s200/us.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363982150424532354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June Hawaii Trip with the Nielsens&lt;/span&gt;---Highlight: All of it was amazing! I don't know if I could choose a highlight. I loved snorkeling at Shark's cove and exploring Oahu. The kayak adventure up the river was one of my favorites. (Thanks to my "Oahu Revealed" bible...I was a little obsessed with that guide book.) Of course the Polynesian Cultural Center was a highlight. It was a once in a lifetime trip that I will never forget. Lowlight: Coming home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVzf2UOI/AAAAAAAAAYc/_BRzfT7VVS4/s1600-h/FamilyPCC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVzf2UOI/AAAAAAAAAYc/_BRzfT7VVS4/s200/FamilyPCC.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363982144357421282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVpswwdI/AAAAAAAAAYU/QWcypWbydEI/s1600-h/dolphin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVpswwdI/AAAAAAAAAYU/QWcypWbydEI/s200/dolphin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363982141727228370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVHSWqFI/AAAAAAAAAYM/X9miQEr7umI/s1600-h/BackyardHawaii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCxVHSWqFI/AAAAAAAAAYM/X9miQEr7umI/s200/BackyardHawaii.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363982132489660498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEaIUXgPxI/AAAAAAAAAbE/C_T6sV8S9tY/s1600-h/Hawaii+174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEaIUXgPxI/AAAAAAAAAbE/C_T6sV8S9tY/s200/Hawaii+174.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364097361383538450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCtWBZinyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/xFm4pgKLam0/s1600-h/mt+baker+2009+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCtWBZinyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/xFm4pgKLam0/s200/mt+baker+2009+019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363977750042550050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ben's Mt Baker Climb&lt;/span&gt;--Highlight: He says the 99 cent menu at the Tullalip Casino and the wonderful clear view from the mountain. Lowlight: Not summiting. Maybe next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnES25Hv1rI/AAAAAAAAAZc/YKpOeXK4xxo/s1600-h/DSCN0487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnES25Hv1rI/AAAAAAAAAZc/YKpOeXK4xxo/s200/DSCN0487.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364089365430523570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;July 2 Ultrasound&lt;/span&gt;---Highlight: Finding out we are having a little boy and buying his first official boy outfit. So cute! Lowlight: The Buffalo Chicken Wings for lunch. We had Rick and Jan and my friend Becky come to lunch to tell them the news. I don't know why I crave spicy. It just makes me sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCtsPBkNUI/AAAAAAAAAYE/oMqmWAPQP1s/s1600-h/LakeQuinalt+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnCtsPBkNUI/AAAAAAAAAYE/oMqmWAPQP1s/s200/LakeQuinalt+018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363978131657209154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4th of July&lt;/span&gt;---Highlight: The fireworks over Lake Tapps of course! Lowlight: Fixing the broken toilet. NOTICE: When installing a toilet don't tighten the bolts too tight; the toilet will crack! Ben worked all week to finish the garage and move the tools out of the house to create a guest room for his brother Josh and his family.  It was a TON of work but so nice to have it all done. Now on to the finishing work upstairs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;July 6-10 Ben at Scout Camp&lt;/span&gt;--Highlight: the kid who ate the cricket. Lowlight: His boys not advancing by one class because they weren't motivated when Ben left in the middle of the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnETgpwB9VI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/2JnzEpV6l1I/s1600-h/DSCN0500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnETgpwB9VI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/2JnzEpV6l1I/s200/DSCN0500.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364090082859021650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnETgABhvPI/AAAAAAAAAZs/zYS7Fc50CWM/s1600-h/DSCN0499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnETgABhvPI/AAAAAAAAAZs/zYS7Fc50CWM/s200/DSCN0499.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364090071658118386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ALSO that same week...Josh and Jerusha came to visit&lt;/span&gt;. Highlight: Toss up between the Mariners Game with the kids and hiking Mt Rainier and seeing a BEAR on the trail!  Lowlight: The kids crying when they had to head for home. We love you Brendan and Lindsey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 13-15 Laurel High Adventure&lt;/span&gt;---Highlight: The girls had a blast. Lowlight: Prego Melissa not being there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVDnDgMFI/AAAAAAAAAaU/pjujE4jCSeM/s1600-h/DSCN0580.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVDnDgMFI/AAAAAAAAAaU/pjujE4jCSeM/s200/DSCN0580.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364091782942437458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;July 18 Weekend---Leavenworth with Grandma Morton.&lt;/span&gt;  Highlight: I would say just visiting with Grandma and the play, The Sound of Music at the outside theater. Ben would say the German Bakery. Lowlight: The trip was too short. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVDYCOrMI/AAAAAAAAAaM/IT-LVedPkB8/s1600-h/DSCN0549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVDYCOrMI/AAAAAAAAAaM/IT-LVedPkB8/s200/DSCN0549.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364091778910563522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVCwdTrXI/AAAAAAAAAaE/6Kgi33ZMXi8/s1600-h/DSCN0556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVCwdTrXI/AAAAAAAAAaE/6Kgi33ZMXi8/s200/DSCN0556.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364091768286719346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVCusyv5I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/1hBuxxekYVQ/s1600-h/DSCN0557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEVCusyv5I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/1hBuxxekYVQ/s200/DSCN0557.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364091767814799250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEWnP7r_NI/AAAAAAAAAac/mAFUZr7_qUo/s1600-h/girlscamp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEWnP7r_NI/AAAAAAAAAac/mAFUZr7_qUo/s200/girlscamp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364093494722559186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;July 20-24 Girls Camp&lt;/span&gt;---Highlight: Ben came up as security one night. My friend Tami and I had the girls play a prank on them that involved water guns. They got them back with suran wrap. Vaseline was also involved in the pranks that night. It was so fun to see Ben even if it was just for a night. Lowlight: A little camp drama, but nothing I am not used to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHH! Now it is almost August. Ben leaves for another scout trip next week. He is going on the 50-miler canoe trip to Lake Chelan. And that isn't his last scouting event of the summer; Wash Jam is August 20-22! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my parents are coming up the last week in August to see us! We are planning to go to Victoria Canada and just relax. (Like we need another vacation)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This week I hit my 6 month mark in the pregnancy! &lt;/strong&gt;Can you believe that? My baby will be here before I know it and summer will be over. This has already been an awesome (and HOT) summer, one of our best yet!  Ben says it reminds him of the summer we met. I have loved spending so much time with my sweetheart!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-5158526364894676326?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5158526364894676326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=5158526364894676326' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5158526364894676326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5158526364894676326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-have-we-been-up-to-wow-whole-lot.html' title='What have we been up to?'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SnEX66E5bXI/AAAAAAAAAa8/gXKv9hxKaZQ/s72-c/LakeQuinalt+035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-8923798954845382141</id><published>2009-05-07T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T07:50:03.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are what you eat...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SgL06uJoEMI/AAAAAAAAATM/eA1wcj4Fkvc/s1600-h/541447~Australian-Kangaroo-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SgL06uJoEMI/AAAAAAAAATM/eA1wcj4Fkvc/s320/541447~Australian-Kangaroo-Posters.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333094198418084034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that is true, then I am a Kangaroo, Ben is a Black Bear and our friend Andy is a Yak!  Last night we went up to the International Burger restaurant in Bonney Lake. It is a fun place to try exotic burgers like Lion, Alligator and Llama! Becky and I actually split a Kangaroo. I hope this doesn't offend anyone. These are all farm raised for human consumption, even the Lion. Honestly it mostly tasted like a regular burger. But it is fun to say I have tried Kangaroo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-8923798954845382141?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8923798954845382141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=8923798954845382141' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8923798954845382141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8923798954845382141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-are-what-you-eat.html' title='You are what you eat...'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SgL06uJoEMI/AAAAAAAAATM/eA1wcj4Fkvc/s72-c/541447~Australian-Kangaroo-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-7752185155493830611</id><published>2009-04-25T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T14:25:39.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll never guess what I heard...</title><content type='html'>...my baby's heartbeat! Yes, that is right, I am pregnant. I just had my first ultrasound and heard the little Kumquat's heartbeat. We are very excited. It was such a relief to know that everything is perfect and developing right on schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SfOGU_CYPZI/AAAAAAAAATE/LwTQHiR8sG0/s1600-h/pics+130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SfOGU_CYPZI/AAAAAAAAATE/LwTQHiR8sG0/s320/pics+130.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328750479186345362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few answers I know you will ask:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;November 17.&lt;br /&gt;No not really, just tired. I feel lucky to not be puking my guts out! &lt;br /&gt;Yes, we are excited. &lt;br /&gt;No, we aren't too scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel's reaction to the pregnancy test: "I knew it!" And then I had to tell my baby niece McKenzie. I had to tell someone that wouldn't tell everyone else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben's reaction to the cake in the fridge: Open fridge. Shut fridge. Nervous laughing...open fridge again. "Are you serious?" More nervous laughing... "I better go finish the garage so I can build a crib!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jan's reaction to the Golden Easter egg: Near tears. Very excited and shocked. I don't think she said much other than "Ooohh! Congratulations!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luanne's reaction to email of Ben's cake (of course I am on the phone to hear her reaction): Scream! "You gotta come see this! Come here, come here, come here!" Then laughing and excitement turned to a little bit of scolding... "Did you know when you were down here in Utah?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes we did know but we had to make sure it stuck!  Well, there is definitely a little baby in there with a strong little heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe Ben is gonna be a Daddy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-7752185155493830611?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7752185155493830611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=7752185155493830611' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7752185155493830611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7752185155493830611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/04/youll-never-guess-what-i-heard.html' title='You&apos;ll never guess what I heard...'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SfOGU_CYPZI/AAAAAAAAATE/LwTQHiR8sG0/s72-c/pics+130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6423802339226853095</id><published>2009-04-22T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T11:44:09.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody likes a tease</title><content type='html'>Get your minds out of the gutter. I am talking about Washington Weather! What the?  We have had 70 degree weather for the past three days but I wake up today to 40s?  It is dark, cold and wet. The sun is gone. Spring is gone. I still walked Sadie but the flowers were closed and the cherry blossoms are freaking out. Half of the blossoms have fallen off and the other half are hangin' on by little threads. &lt;br /&gt;I was hoping to celebrate Earth Day outside but I am back inside with the heater on. I can't believe I was in shorts getting a sunburn less than 24 hours ago. Sadie was swimming in the lake and today even she doesn't want to get up out of bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Weather don't tease us. Please give us back the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nielsen Hawaii Trip countdown: 1 month, 1 week and 4 days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6423802339226853095?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6423802339226853095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6423802339226853095' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6423802339226853095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6423802339226853095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/04/nobody-likes-tease.html' title='Nobody likes a tease'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-7476055691699107325</id><published>2009-04-22T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T07:26:47.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Is your refrigerator running?"</title><content type='html'>Do you remember when phone pranks used to be funny and innocent?  Remember, when kids in school rarely cussed and if they did they didn't dare do it in front of adults. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't that long ago that I was a kid. One of those kids, prank calling trying to be funny. Some of our jokes were a little dirty but compared to now they were sweet and innocent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At midnight last night I got a phone call. Of course, I get up out of bed if you call my house in the middle of the night. It might be an emergency, right?  Well, it was not an emergency. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hello"&lt;br /&gt;Punk Kid: "Hey, baby"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Who is this?&lt;br /&gt;Punk Kid: "We just met outside, you still want to F#@*?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so bugged! If that was a prank call that was not funny and if he had the wrong number, how degrading! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope the next generation of women have more respect for themselves than to go out with stupid punks that treat them like a piece of meat. I hope my young women don't give in to a booty call like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just makes me sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-7476055691699107325?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7476055691699107325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=7476055691699107325' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7476055691699107325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7476055691699107325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-your-refrigerator-running.html' title='&quot;Is your refrigerator running?&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4110396849302343582</id><published>2009-04-06T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T17:14:25.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are never too old...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SdqaVenreJI/AAAAAAAAASs/pqsNJKc2mDc/s1600-h/MelsBirthday+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SdqaVenreJI/AAAAAAAAASs/pqsNJKc2mDc/s320/MelsBirthday+003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321735603479083154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a Princess Birthday Cake! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to drag out the celebration as long as I can. Saturday I went shopping with Jan and then went out to dinner with the Mortons (which I like to pretend is strictly for my birhday although it really is just a traditional after-the-Priesthood session meal and ice cream.)  Then Sunday we had ice cream cake and Jan cooked us dinner. It was a relaxing day watching conference and laying around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sdqaf5tKYoI/AAAAAAAAAS0/VSQBXr2JVG8/s1600-h/MelsBirthday+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sdqaf5tKYoI/AAAAAAAAAS0/VSQBXr2JVG8/s320/MelsBirthday+007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321735782548529794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I got my flowers from my sisters. Thanks Sisters for the loverly springy flowers. Then Ben got me a new camera! He is so sweet. Now we are going to go shopping and spend the evening together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sdqaf0CE0LI/AAAAAAAAAS8/uZD41QV1gK4/s1600-h/MelsBirthday+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/Sdqaf0CE0LI/AAAAAAAAAS8/uZD41QV1gK4/s320/MelsBirthday+009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321735781025632434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got lots of love, calls and cards. Thanks for all the Birthday love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4110396849302343582?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4110396849302343582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4110396849302343582' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4110396849302343582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4110396849302343582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-are-never-too-old.html' title='You are never too old...'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SdqaVenreJI/AAAAAAAAASs/pqsNJKc2mDc/s72-c/MelsBirthday+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3653462788622776876</id><published>2009-03-27T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T22:27:44.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Utah and back</title><content type='html'>Well I think Melissa needs an update. This week was another spontaneous trip to see my family in Utah. I have learned when Ben says "Let's go to Utah," I run and get in the car before he changes his mind. This was a quick trip but I got to see my family and Ben's brother Josh and his wife Jerusha. It was so nice to see everyone and we did get to have some random fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way down we stopped at Antelope Island to see some Buffalo and of course Antelope. I think there is a reason I have never been there. There wasn't much to it but I think it could be better in the summer. Ben and I may return someday. I would say one thoe up and one thoe down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then for more randomness. The next day we toured Mrs Cavanaugh's Chocolate Factory in north Salt Lake. After Antelope Island we drove past this little wonder. And Ben, who is really a big kid disguised as a man, got all giddy inside and had to go.  He wanted to flip a U-turn on the freeway and bolt to the factory but he refrained until the next morning so we could go with my parents. Ben was in heaven! The smell of chocolate just makes him happy so you can imagine his delight in a Chocolate Factory.  We even got to see Mrs Cavanaugh in person. It was actually fun and pretty educational. Ben now believes chocolate is good for you and will fix cavities not cause them. (that movie was a wee bit biased!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the rest of the trip was full of visiting and eating. Why not gain a few Utah pounds? Can we say Cafe Rio, The Mayan and the Lion House Pantry...hello, calorie intake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadie Dog enjoyed the trip as well. She did so good on the long drive. And loves Grandma and Grandpa Nielsen. I think she misses them already. But at least she will always have a piece of the toy Grandma bought her, eternally stuck in her colon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now while I am back home, Ben is camping at the base of Mt St Helens. He is hiking it tomorrow morning with his brother Adam and our friend Jimmy Carter. Hopefully they are safe. I have until Sunday night and then I have permission to call Search and Rescue. I am not nervous or anything. Can you tell?  OK I am a little nervous. My husband is climbing active volcanoes.  And thanks to my Mom I have seen Dante's Peak five thousand times. Honestly, I am more worried about them falling into the crater then the mountain exploding...again... Jeesh, I hope I can sleep tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3653462788622776876?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3653462788622776876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3653462788622776876' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3653462788622776876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3653462788622776876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/03/to-utah-and-back.html' title='To Utah and back'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3474359954824737117</id><published>2009-03-05T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T11:50:15.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Melissa needs</title><content type='html'>This is a fun, blog game that I saw on a friend of a friend’s blog. &lt;br /&gt;What you do is you google “your name” “needs” to find out what you need today. Then post the first ten things that come up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs to take a break. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs lots of guidance. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs help. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs a home. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs hydration after the walk. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs a roof. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs to find a new agent.  &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs to board the blob ship that is hovering overhead. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs blogs. &lt;br /&gt;Melissa needs to be the next "bachelorette." Sorry gillian. getting proposed 2 then dumped on natl tv is wayy harsh, jason is a @#&amp;(d!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely do not need to be the next bachelorette or to board the blob ship that is hovering overhead!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3474359954824737117?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3474359954824737117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3474359954824737117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3474359954824737117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3474359954824737117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/03/melissa-needs.html' title='Melissa needs'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-5610545452412110166</id><published>2009-03-04T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T12:31:38.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coyote Ugly</title><content type='html'>Two coyotes are living in my neighborhood. Scary, I know. Mostly for Sadie. A lady in the neighborhood stopped me when I was walking my dog yesterday. She told me that the two coyotes were displaced when they treed the woods down the road. (Maybe those environmentalists are on to something) So, I have been worried about the coyotes attacking my dog. I have been keeping her inside or on a leash but they say Sadie is big enough that the coyotes probably won't attack her. If anything, they will just corner her and try to make her one of the pack. I am guessing since Sadie cowers down to Yorkshire Terriers she probably won't join the Coyotes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Jen if you are ever cornered by dogs again, take it as a compliment. They are just trying to recruit you to their pack. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-5610545452412110166?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5610545452412110166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=5610545452412110166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5610545452412110166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5610545452412110166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/03/coyote-ugly.html' title='Coyote Ugly'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-573714166372702217</id><published>2009-03-01T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T08:21:11.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slumdog</title><content type='html'>I just watched Slumdog Millionaire. Ah, I loved it. That was such a good movie. It had it all; romance, comedy, drama. I fell in love with the little characters. I cheered and I cried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Academy picked a great one this time around. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it...yeah, me and two hundred thousand other people. I know I am probably the last person to see this show but I just hate not having that after-movie conversation. So, I had to blog about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What struck me the most was that even though it was definitely a fictional story the circumstances are not that far off. I saw a news story about the little kids that were in the movie and they really do live in the slums of India. The director bought their families a condo to live in after the movie won Best Picture. But I was thinking that director could probably buy the whole slum a new condo. Even though it feels like we are in a horrific economic meltdown, we still have one of the wealthiest countries in the world. It is just amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I love a movie that you go away from smiling--and with a little more understanding of the world around you. This one did that for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-573714166372702217?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/573714166372702217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=573714166372702217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/573714166372702217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/573714166372702217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/03/slumdog.html' title='Slumdog'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-469143098172401269</id><published>2009-02-26T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T18:31:48.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free is the best kind of food</title><content type='html'>We have had a good week for free food. Tuesday we got free pancakes at IHOP. Wednesday we got free Quiznos thanks to the Million Subs giveaway. &lt;a href="http://millionsubs.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;http://millionsubs.com/. And then our friend Emily gave us a beautiful wedding cake that we had for breakfast and lunch today. (I probably shouldn't admit that.) &lt;br /&gt;Then to top it off, tomorrow we get free Spaghetti and Meatballs from our ward's Elder's Quorum party! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are shooting for free food for the rest of the week. Or maybe I can keep the streak up a little longer. I will refuse to cook and only eat what I didn't have to buy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This challenge reminds me of college. I could always find my way into free food back then and I can do it again. Think cheap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free...now that is my favorite kind of food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-469143098172401269?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/469143098172401269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=469143098172401269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/469143098172401269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/469143098172401269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/02/free-is-best-kind-of-food.html' title='Free is the best kind of food'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-1161536118016519053</id><published>2009-02-21T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T10:41:22.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes we can</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SaBKwA2A_AI/AAAAAAAAAR8/CebYNJFZCBQ/s1600-h/WeCanDoItPoster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SaBKwA2A_AI/AAAAAAAAAR8/CebYNJFZCBQ/s320/WeCanDoItPoster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305322549763177474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben and I are on assignment.&lt;br /&gt;We have been asked to go on the Laurel High Adventure this summer. It is a backpacking trip up the Pacific Ridge. I love it because I get scheduled camp-outs with Ben and a good excuse to get in shape. We always want to plan hikes but never get around to it. So, this year it is planned for us. Three hikes leading up to the big, 30-miler!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is yet another motivation to get me off my hiney. I have started my “From couch potato to 5K” plan. Hopefully, I will stick with it. I want to be able to run the 5K at Girl’s Camp this year. My goal is to not come in last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a busy summer ahead of us. Not to mention, the Nielsen Family Fun Week in Hawaii! We can’t wait! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is only February but now is the time to get myself back in shape.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-1161536118016519053?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/1161536118016519053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=1161536118016519053' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/1161536118016519053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/1161536118016519053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/02/yes-we-can.html' title='Yes we can'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SaBKwA2A_AI/AAAAAAAAAR8/CebYNJFZCBQ/s72-c/WeCanDoItPoster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-8895249567095647892</id><published>2009-01-12T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T23:40:04.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dark Side</title><content type='html'>I was honored for two years in the row as the “Friendliest Staff Member” at my college newspaper.  I didn’t get “Most Cut-Throat Reporter” Or “Hardest-Nosed Journalist” but “Friendliest.”  Again at the trade magazine I was referred to as the “Nicest Person on Staff.” I am not trying to gloat here. I am making a point. I was never cut out for the “do or die” newspaper world. I hate when people hate me and everyone hates a Journalist (at one point or another)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I had a realization today when I got wind of a juicy, news story. This is not typical since I am usually writing profiles and features. I rarely get a good newsy tip but this was pertinent news. So, I jumped on the story, researching all the slimy, little details. My story was getting good. I had color, underlining accusations, and mudslinging quotes. It was a story the newspaper journalists would have eaten up. They would have loved every gossipy little detail backed by all the facts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then…I realized the effect this story could have on the association, on the company with the dirty hands, and on me as the writer.  The sexy news story, as journalists would call it, was not something I could publish in my newsletter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after a call to the association president to discuss the story and the ethical responsibility we have to inform the public but to also save our face… I re-wrote the story. I took out all the fun stuff. All the colorful quotes and the “they say this, he says that” dialogue. I turned my meaty, news story into a plain old informational PR article. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me was sad to do it. But the other part of me knew it was the right thing to do for my association.  Some would say I have crossed into the dark side of journalism. Dark because PR bends the truth and journalism is pure of heart. Well, I have learned that everyone doesn’t have to know every gory little detail in order to understand the situation. I have learned it the hard way before. And I wasn’t going to do it again. I have to worry about the consequences and realize what I say or in this case what I print is going to have an effect on people. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My realization: I am cut out for PR. It took me until now to realize it but I am.&lt;br /&gt;I should have known when they named me “Friendliest” the first time. PR are always friendly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I got that out I must try to go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-8895249567095647892?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8895249567095647892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=8895249567095647892' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8895249567095647892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8895249567095647892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/01/dark-side.html' title='The Dark Side'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2678022838483666935</id><published>2009-01-08T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:07:02.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Year in Review 2008</title><content type='html'>I love the Year in Reviews. When I get to look back at the year and reflect on all that happened. As a news junkie, I love to remember all the big news stories that moved the people. From the economic downturn and the bailout, to the election of the first black president to the astounding Bejing Olympics, this year was incredibly historical.  &lt;br /&gt; While the unemployment rate kept rising, Ben and I continued working. While money on Wall Street is slippery, we still have cash in our pockets and food to eat. While the housing market is plummeting, we still have a roof over our heads. &lt;br /&gt; For us in little Lake Tapps, living our simple little lives, I couldn’t call 2008 historical. But it was a good year. This year, Ben climbed his first mountain: Mount Adams. He attempted Mount Baker too late in the season and after his brother fell up to his waist in a crevasse they decided to turn around. All year, REI garage sale after another, Ben has collected enough mountaineering gear to suit him for Mount Rainier for 2009.&lt;br /&gt; Through 2008, I became a pseudo-mom on many levels. House-sitting this spring for two weeks with two teenage girls only gave us a glimpse of what I would have to handle during the summer. Feeding, waking up and motivating, worrying about and loving my 16-year-old nephew all summer was an unforgettable experience. We tried to give him a positive experience with work, the dance festival and youth activities. &lt;br /&gt; When I wasn’t trying to keep Mackay out of trouble, I was helping Becky discipline and entertain here two little kids (Hannah, 6 and Bethany, 4) with free summer fun. We spent a lot of time swimming in the lake, playing at the park, going to free movies, concerts in the park and the library. &lt;br /&gt; If that wasn’t enough “Mom” practice, I spent a week mothering 30, 13-year old girls and 20 Lake Tapps young women at Girl’s Camp. Then there is my title of Puppy Mom of Sadie, the 60-pound lap dog. I don’t care what anyone says; after you spend days feeding, cleaning up after, and waking up in the night with a dog, it sure sounds like mom war stories.   &lt;br /&gt; Ben and I made it camping and hiking this summer as well as boating and floating down the river (Ben in his kayak, Mel in her tube). Together we made it to Seaside, OR, this spring and Utah for Memorial Day and Thanksgiving. &lt;br /&gt; I traveled with my friends for a last minute trip to Hollywood, CA for Wicked this summer. And I went to Las Vegas and St. Louis for solo work trips. &lt;br /&gt; Between our families we have three new nieces: Baby McKenzie, Gracie and Isabelle; a new brother Jared; and a new sister Sani. And my Mom and Dad back from Mexico. &lt;br /&gt; Overall 2008, was a good year; a learning year. We tried new things and sometimes we failed to reach the original goal. But is it failure when you gain experiences and learn lessons? I have grown through our experiences and smiled through all of them. We hope 2009 will be another good year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2678022838483666935?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2678022838483666935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2678022838483666935' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2678022838483666935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2678022838483666935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2009/01/year-in-review-2008.html' title='Year in Review 2008'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2615018038295335620</id><published>2008-12-24T12:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T18:04:03.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>White Christmas</title><content type='html'>I can’t believe it is going to be a White Christmas in Seattle this year!  It is crazy because last year we were so excited for the inch of snow that melted away as soon as the sun came up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we had a “Winter Blast” as the melodramatic news would put it. But it really is uncharacteristically snowy here! The 10-inches of snow has kept Ben home from work this week and part of last week. It has been so nice to have him bustling around the house. He has been able to work on the sheetrock for the garage and finish up the Christmas shopping. I think we spoiled each other this year. Even though we tried to simplify, I think we still spoiled.  We decided this year we were going to give each other four things: “something you want, something you need, something to wear and something to read.”  The categories helped me focus but I think I got a little carried away.  It was too fun buying for each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was the annual Gingerbread House contest with our friends! It was a little bit of a cop out year because most of the competitors bought Gingerbread kits. Usually, everyone goes all out building over-the-top edible displays from scratch. Dustin and Jenny won the trophy this year with a miniature Seahawks stadium!  I will post pictures of it later but it was AWESOME!  It was probably 18-inches high and 3-feet wide. It had jelly beans as the players and the fans. It was framed out with wood but completely frosted and decked out in candy. It even had candy cane goal posts and stadium lighting.&lt;br /&gt;Way to go Dixons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a really nice Christmas season seeing lights, playing in the snow and baking all the holiday crap food. I am sorry Maren but I am the worst culprit! But this year I am baking and getting rid of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2615018038295335620?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2615018038295335620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2615018038295335620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2615018038295335620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2615018038295335620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/12/white-christmas.html' title='White Christmas'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-7177619467561065858</id><published>2008-12-07T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T21:22:30.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"It Beginning to Look alot like Christmas"</title><content type='html'>My world has been a bit of a whirlwind since I got back from Utah. (I must apologize to my friendly, Utahans who may be reading this post whom I did not see during my ten-day stint in the Beehive state. The trip was wonderfully jammed packed with Family Fun Day after another. So much so that my Mom even needed time away from the hustle. Two weddings, a baby shower, Girls Day, Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and three trips to Cabelas, is likely to exhaust any woman.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if that doesn’t sound bad enough, reality gave my whiplash when I got back into town.  Technology was not cooperating with me for this issue of the newsletter. I thought I was going to slit my wrists and do push ups in a bath full of salt water…reminiscent of my University Journal days. It was another little miracle that it is off to the printer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the housework and my time-consuming church calling that were both terribly neglected during my trip. I am sure you can imagine the long to-do list.  Thank goodness for a helpful husband and wonderful counselors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly I can’t complain. &lt;br /&gt;I have made time to enjoy the Christmas season. Ben insisted that we put up the tree the day we got back. So, my house is very festive. Jan and I went to the Victorian Country Christmas on Saturday to enjoy the food, shows, and Christmas crafts. While we ladies went to the craft show, the guys went to the gun show. Ben is a proud shot gun owner now. And I brought him back a solid chocolate revolver that I found at the Victorian. He didn’t even eat it the first day. He put it up in the tree like an ornament. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then we all went to the Festival of the Nativity down in Tacoma. The whole cultural hall in the church building was covering with tables of nativities of all sorts. It was actually really beautiful. It was amazing how many renditions of the nativity there were: from the traditional, to Native American, to Veggie Tales. I realized that I don’t even have a nativity but I want to start collecting them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am already feeling the Spirit of Christmas. I don’t want the month to go by too fast. I love this time of year. There are so many fun traditions and memories. You have all the Seattle traditions with Caroling Ships and dancing toy soldiers. Then you have my local traditions of the annual Dorsey White Elephant Gift Party where all the ladies fight over the best Nutcracker and the infamous Gingerbread House-building Contest with edible houses sometimes 5-feet high.  Sigh….all the memories…for another post. Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-7177619467561065858?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7177619467561065858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=7177619467561065858' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7177619467561065858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7177619467561065858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-beginning-to-look-alot-like.html' title='&quot;It Beginning to Look alot like Christmas&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2875705243823402456</id><published>2008-11-01T15:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T16:23:40.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 5 Reasons this was a good week:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SQzkbF-ZbJI/AAAAAAAAAIw/72rZ_iLCIK8/s1600-h/Babycake+and+Halloween+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SQzkbF-ZbJI/AAAAAAAAAIw/72rZ_iLCIK8/s320/Babycake+and+Halloween+024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263833218600758418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SQzkahBLM_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/UPasQY4P7Uo/s1600-h/Babycake+and+Halloween+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SQzkahBLM_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/UPasQY4P7Uo/s320/Babycake+and+Halloween+014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263833208680297458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1--Halloween, of course. I love it all--the candy, dressing up, and begging strangers for candy when dressed up. Halloween is a great kick off to the whole holiday season. I even dressed up my dog this year...hmmm....I think I need kids so I don't subject my animal to this cruel and unusual punishment. But little Batman liked it. Look she is smiling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2--We have RENTERS! Yay! We have renters for the Tacoma house. That is a serious stress-reliever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3--Pierrogies--I know this is a weird one but I found those little pasta potato dumplings this week and stocked up. Ben and I used to eat steak and pierrogies every week when we first got married. We ate like kings! Well, I haven't been able to find them in the stores... until now! Needless to say I have been living off of these yummy things all week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4--Mom and Dad come home next Tuesday! It makes this week good because of the anticipation. I am so excited. I don't get to see them until the 19th but still. It feels nice to have my friend back. Now, I can call my Mom whenever I want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5--Hot Yoga...I started Hot Yoga this week. They opened a new studio about 15 minutes from my house. I used to do hot yoga (literally, yoga in a heated room to about 100 degrees or so) out in Tacoma. When we moved I tried to keep it up but it was way too long of a drive. So now, my friend Dyan and I go together. I am hoping to get my rockin' yoga body back. I was my healthiest when I was doing yoga twice a week. Now, I am soft and insulated. Sigh. Without any good excuses. So Miss Lazy (or as my brothers would say "Fatty Face") has a goal to be looking good and 15 pounds lighter by Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. I told you I had a good week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2875705243823402456?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2875705243823402456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2875705243823402456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2875705243823402456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2875705243823402456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/11/top-5-reasons-this-was-good-week.html' title='Top 5 Reasons this was a good week:'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SQzkbF-ZbJI/AAAAAAAAAIw/72rZ_iLCIK8/s72-c/Babycake+and+Halloween+024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6670844438559692414</id><published>2008-10-08T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:58:06.884-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Post the 4th photo from the 4th picture folder.'/><title type='text'>Concrete beautiful concrete</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SO1_py8Am0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/qNsUwpgbGAQ/s1600-h/100_0488+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SO1_py8Am0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/qNsUwpgbGAQ/s320/100_0488+(2).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254996696236071746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post the 4th photo from your 4th folder and describe it. I couldn't not do this little tag when I saw my 4th photo from the 4th folder. ahh. The World of Concrete...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a concrete sculptor creating sea turtles. Yes. This is the kind of story you find when you are a feature writer stuck writing for a concrete magazine. You would never guess how fascinating the concrete industry really is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6670844438559692414?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6670844438559692414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6670844438559692414' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6670844438559692414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6670844438559692414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/10/concrete-beautiful-concrete.html' title='Concrete beautiful concrete'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SO1_py8Am0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/qNsUwpgbGAQ/s72-c/100_0488+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4938280387906541564</id><published>2008-10-03T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T15:42:02.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To be tagged.</title><content type='html'>Hah. I did this even before my sister Emily tagged me. So, now I don't feel like such a dork and a true member of the blogging society. I thought this one was fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 fears&lt;br /&gt;*Knives. My brother Blaine would always play up this fear and pretend to cut himself with the dull end of the blade. It would make me gasp every time. &lt;br /&gt;*Losing Ben. I don’t know how I could live without him. A psychic once told me he is my soulmate, how could I argue?&lt;br /&gt;*Being attacked. I travel a lot by myself for work and I am afraid of being mugged or attacked and raped. &lt;br /&gt;*Being a bad Mom. I am a little apprehensive jumping into the whole Mom thing and I think this fear is one reason why.&lt;br /&gt;*Losing Becky. Becky is my friend I happen to caregive for. She has Cystic Fibrosis and I am scared of losing her and more specifically me finding her already gone without me getting to say goodbye. She has become one of my very best friends and I will never forget how she has affected my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 joys&lt;br /&gt;* My Ben.  &lt;br /&gt;* My silly dog Sadie.&lt;br /&gt;* The Nielsen Clan. My family is hilarious and we really “get” each other. It is a joy when we are all laughing together around Mom's huge table. &lt;br /&gt;* The temple&lt;br /&gt;* Traveling--especially the spontaneous trips.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 obsessions/collections&lt;br /&gt;* Stampin’ Up. I started making cards and other fun paper crafts so I now collect stamps and all the crafting goods. &lt;br /&gt;* Books. I have found my love of reading. I have to buy a new book every time I am in the airport. I buy books more than that but it is a must in the airport unless I am already reading a new book. &lt;br /&gt;* Blogs. I love reading other people’s stories.     &lt;br /&gt;* Holiday decorations. I love them. I started collecting holiday hot pads and oven mitts that I put up for the seasons in my little kitchen.    &lt;br /&gt;* The News. I am a total news junkie; talk radio, newspapers online, local news. I also love the Today Show. It reminds me of my mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 surprising facts&lt;br /&gt;* I have thoes—little tiny thumbs that resemble baby toes. But I have found two thoe sisters (Mallory and Tiff) and a thoe brother (my thoe brother, Tyler, actually has one normal thumb and one thoe—that is even weirder than just two thoes.) &lt;br /&gt;* I took Science classes as electives in college. I had all the requirements for a Bachelor’s of Science before my Junior year without even knowing it.    &lt;br /&gt;* I laugh really hard at commercials. I love dorky commercials. &lt;br /&gt;* Ben and I collect shot glasses from everywhere we go but we don’t drink.&lt;br /&gt;* We own four houses in three states: Washington, Pennsylvania and Indiana, and we don't live in any of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who to tag...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4938280387906541564?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4938280387906541564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4938280387906541564' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4938280387906541564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4938280387906541564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/10/five-things.html' title='To be tagged.'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2393360977710058246</id><published>2008-09-30T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T23:14:09.199-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>"Bye, bye, Miss American Pie"</title><content type='html'>&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceType"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt; Married couples fight about a lot of things. Money. Kids. Religion.&lt;br /&gt;But Ben and I only fight about one thing: politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben is a staunch republican; as conservative as they come. It could be the corrupt liberals in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Washington&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;State&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; who have destroyed his outlook on American politics but he is not very open-minded about the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;I love him for his passion but when it comes to politics he can get a little &lt;i style=""&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; passionate.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I am a moderate; a typically, conservative-leaning moderate.  But I don’t know who to vote for in the upcoming presidential election. We'll just say the Sarah Palin choice didn't impress me. But that may be for another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I made the mistake of telling Ben not to shout at the TV during Friday’s debate and let me hear both sides. Later, he confronted me about “liking” Obama and now I am in trouble. He actually said he might have to divorce me if I voted for Obama! (I know that wasn’t a literal threat but see the kind of crap Ben says in a little political squabble?  I guess he missed Friendly Political Debate 101 and goes straight for the throat.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;  I am trying to have an open mind and decide who would be the best leader for our country. I found a website of journalists to help in understanding the truth about the candidates and the campaigns--www.factcheck.org. Hopefully, it will help in my decision-making process.&lt;br /&gt;I will keep you updated but &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;if I want to stay married, I better not post who I finally decide to vote for. All I know is that I am voting in this historical election--I just might cancel out my husband’s vote.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2393360977710058246?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2393360977710058246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2393360977710058246' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2393360977710058246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2393360977710058246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/09/bye-bye-miss-american-pie.html' title='&quot;Bye, bye, Miss American Pie&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-8932609692447022722</id><published>2008-09-30T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T21:41:21.219-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camping at Greenwater'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hike to Echo Lake'/><title type='text'>"Communing with nature"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMcCyLCKvsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YBb41K3GYnU/s1600-h/stlouis+102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244163352074829506" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMcCyLCKvsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YBb41K3GYnU/s320/stlouis+102.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMcCyiaTA2I/AAAAAAAAAHA/1Xo4lYMqaQg/s1600-h/stlouis+131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244163358350050146" style="" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMcCyiaTA2I/AAAAAAAAAHA/1Xo4lYMqaQg/s320/stlouis+131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_mS_hQFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/VXyXFi9cR1I/s1600-h/stlouis+084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244159849517891666" style="" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_mS_hQFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/VXyXFi9cR1I/s320/stlouis+084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_nbBfZBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/PBJC5jikl6s/s1600-h/stlouis+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244159868853511186" style="" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_nbBfZBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/PBJC5jikl6s/s320/stlouis+107.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_nbBfZBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/PBJC5jikl6s/s1600-h/stlouis+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who: Ben. Melissa. Adam. Megan. Sadie (the hyper-active little yellow lab). Dolly (the deaf Dalmatian)&lt;br /&gt;What: A spur of the moment overnight campout&lt;br /&gt;Where: Greenwater--just about an hour into the mountain heading east&lt;br /&gt;When: beginning of September&lt;br /&gt;Why:  1. Too much work and not enough play= spontaneous "get-out-of-town" trips. All work and no play makes Ben a stir crazy boy. 2. It was beautiful weather.  3. Ben and I didn't have to teach on Sunday, and that is a RARE occasion to be taken advantage of.  4. We were communing with nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Ben and I ended up hiking in the morning. We started the 3 mile hike and just kept walking. We came to a sign that said Echo Lake--4 miles. It sounded like fun... We ended up hiking 17 miles that day.  Whoa huh?  Let's hear it for the weekend warriors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb_nbBfZBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/PBJC5jikl6s/s1600-h/stlouis+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&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/5535377895802766803-8932609692447022722?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8932609692447022722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=8932609692447022722' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8932609692447022722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8932609692447022722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/09/communing-with-nature.html' title='&quot;Communing with nature&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMcCyLCKvsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YBb41K3GYnU/s72-c/stlouis+102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-94334168137113614</id><published>2008-09-09T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T15:50:58.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance, baby, dance baby.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb8qSnPezI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Q5eYB4jLQCQ/s1600-h/stlouis+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244156619600657202" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb8qSnPezI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Q5eYB4jLQCQ/s200/stlouis+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I found these photos again and realized I hadn't shared them on my blog. This is of Mackay at the Dance Festival this summer. Isn't he cute in his sailor suit? I hope you can see the effect just a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb63Ny4RGI/AAAAAAAAAGA/awpp5d3uedA/s1600-h/stlouis+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6UgAfXhI/AAAAAAAAAFY/KXxz7g3oZEI/s1600-h/stlouis+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244154046215839250" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6UgAfXhI/AAAAAAAAAFY/KXxz7g3oZEI/s200/stlouis+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6U901KRI/AAAAAAAAAFg/hnFreCxPeiA/s1600-h/stlouis+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244154054219999506" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6U901KRI/AAAAAAAAAFg/hnFreCxPeiA/s200/stlouis+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6VJL8IVI/AAAAAAAAAFo/E7qxcwbwk18/s1600-h/stlouis+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244154057269715282" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6VJL8IVI/AAAAAAAAAFo/E7qxcwbwk18/s200/stlouis+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6VhWB4CI/AAAAAAAAAFw/JgSUf9GyagQ/s1600-h/stlouis+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244154063754485794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6VhWB4CI/AAAAAAAAAFw/JgSUf9GyagQ/s200/stlouis+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6V9FlR0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/f8uo2j0XZOg/s1600-h/stlouis+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244154071201695554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb6V9FlR0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/f8uo2j0XZOg/s200/stlouis+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls' costumes were by far the cutest in this dance. I have to tell you: during the costume fitting Mackay accidentally put the shirt on backwards. heeheheh He looked like he had on a huge bib. It was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;Once again, we really did love having Pookay here for the summer. (Pookay, he would kill me for that one. )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, there you go.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5535377895802766803-94334168137113614?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/94334168137113614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=94334168137113614' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/94334168137113614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/94334168137113614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/09/dance-baby-dance-baby.html' title='Dance, baby, dance baby.'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SMb8qSnPezI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Q5eYB4jLQCQ/s72-c/stlouis+009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2210344960061085519</id><published>2008-08-29T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T03:07:56.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to vent</title><content type='html'>I just ran down 15 flights of stairs. Well, more than that...15 floors. Someone pulled the emergency alarm at my hotel as a joke. It was 4:30 a.m. and my hotel has two towers of 25 floors. &lt;br /&gt;All I grabbed was my cellphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said a false alarm like this happened a few months ago when the hotel hosted a polio convention. They had to evacuate 200 people with polio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.1. I am grateful for my working legs. and my running shoes. I would have had a problem jogging the stairs in my heels or in a wheelchair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wondered what I would grab in case of a fire. Well, being in St. Louis. I should have grabbed my whole purse but I just grabbed my cell phone. I guess I could have made it back home, seeing how my flight was already booked but I would have had to beg for money.&lt;br /&gt;Why my cell phone? Well, my thought process was, "If there is something bad, I have to be able to tell Ben that I am alright. And that I love him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one else grabbed anything, except the room key. Why didn't I think of that?&lt;br /&gt;Again, with the whole purse thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thanks for listening blogging world. I just needed to vent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2210344960061085519?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2210344960061085519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2210344960061085519' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2210344960061085519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2210344960061085519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need-to-vent.html' title='I need to vent'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4320926753604571972</id><published>2008-08-25T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T19:13:46.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Food, glorious, food"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last weekend Ben and I vacationed in Seattle. I know we live in Washington but we rarely play tourist in Seattle. We have been so insanely busy lately. Ben the workaholic that he is, has actually been overloaded. That will tell you that we have been pretty busy. Well, we had a lovely weekend of just playing. Ben kayaked on Friday while I hung out with the non-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;kayakers&lt;/span&gt; holding babies and playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bocce&lt;/span&gt; ball. (I sucked. I threw it way too hard. But it was still fun.)&lt;br /&gt;Then on Saturday after our good friend Dave's wedding, we went in to Seattle. Dave goes to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;BYU&lt;/span&gt; Idaho and a few of his friends came to Seattle. So, Ben and I invited ourselves to crash their party and tour Pike's Place market and the waterfront. It was a BEAUTIFUL day and Seattle never really gets old to me. It was a true, Nielsen-style getaway. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nielsen-style": the kind of vacation dictated by food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Fishermen's&lt;/span&gt;. Then to the fudge shop (we can't pass that place without getting some chocolate, If you have been to Seattle with us, you know the place. Emily ask &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mackay&lt;/span&gt; about it.). Sampling all the food in Pike's Place. And then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Gelato&lt;/span&gt;. Ben's eyes lite up ...Italian Ice Cream... we had to try some. Needless to say, we were stuffed. The photos are of our new friends and the adventure in Seattle. Jake and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ReNette&lt;/span&gt;, Michelle and Jessica were so much fun. Following my traditions, I walked away with a bouquet of Pike's Place flowers and some fruit from my favorite fruit stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoztIv7AI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jnNyG8eOE6s/s1600-h/SeattleGroup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238716397805104130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoztIv7AI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jnNyG8eOE6s/s200/SeattleGroup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOozoxHROI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XwapQhu1zR8/s1600-h/FruitStand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238716396632229090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOozoxHROI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XwapQhu1zR8/s200/FruitStand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoz9TuMUI/AAAAAAAAAEw/f_MPxk-t_qU/s1600-h/fishermans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238716402146095426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoz9TuMUI/AAAAAAAAAEw/f_MPxk-t_qU/s200/fishermans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoz8nMxZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/R1CDbqb0YH4/s1600-h/seattle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238716401959355794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoz8nMxZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/R1CDbqb0YH4/s200/seattle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOo0MTYzFI/AAAAAAAAAFA/NnnpkfOtdIU/s1600-h/Us+in+Seattle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238716406171225170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOo0MTYzFI/AAAAAAAAAFA/NnnpkfOtdIU/s200/Us+in+Seattle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The fun didn't stop there. I am telling you, when you get Ben rolling he just plays as hard as he works. We headed to the backyard reception and enjoyed the food AGAIN. And of course we had to decorate the car in order to send them off on their honeymoon. (We probably shouldn't have documented the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;perpetrators&lt;/span&gt;.) I felt like I was in college again, chilling out with kids my same age and just laughing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239756654826060194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLda6ohleaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8htFiV8P_WM/s200/Dave%27s+Car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;You would think it would be back to work, but nope. Sunday, Ben, Adam, Megan and I went on a hike through the tunnel. The old Iron Horse Tunnel in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Snoqualmie&lt;/span&gt; Pass. It is a couple mile hike through an old railroad tunnel. Don't worry Mom, there is no train anymore, it is a designated hike. It was very cool and relaxing. I love to see Ben take time off and just hang out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a great weekend! I am still recovering from the gluttony. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4320926753604571972?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4320926753604571972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4320926753604571972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4320926753604571972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4320926753604571972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/08/food-glorious-food.html' title='&quot;Food, glorious, food&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SLOoztIv7AI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jnNyG8eOE6s/s72-c/SeattleGroup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-8295728089839225291</id><published>2008-08-18T13:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T13:57:13.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"On the Road Again"</title><content type='html'>It has been far too long since my last post. Well, I have been in Forks, WA. Figuratively and literally.  Figuratively, I road the bandwagon to Forks with every other red-blooded American woman over the age of 12 with the time-sucking, Twilight Saga.  I had a late start so I have been reading the series over the past month just in time for Breaking Dawn's release. I am glad I gave in and started reading it. It has been so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Literally...I went to Forks this weekend. Ben and I got a call on Friday afternoon telling us the boyscouts needed a ride home from their 50-miler down the Washington coast. So, they got us "the willing couple who needed a good excuse to get out of town" a van and some cash to stay in a hotel and we started out on our little adventure. I was so excited to know the closest town to the end of the scout hike was FORKS, WA!  I couldn't believe how excited I was to visit Bella and Edward. I am such a dork but I was a little giddy. I kept referencing the book. "Well, the book says La Push is about 15 miles outside of Forks." and "It should take about an hour to get to Port Angeles from here, well, that's how long it takes Bella to get there."  I even grabbed my book instead of the map one time and Ben and I just laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about 10:30 p.m. we thought we might be sleeping in the van. The whole town was booked! No Vacancy in Forks, well almost... There was one hotel with a no show but he couldn't give the room to us until 11 p.m. At 10:55, the no show, showed up and we were out. But luckily, another hotel called with another no show. We ran out toward La Push, and Jacob greeted us at the border... just kidding.  No, it was a tiny little cabin on Maxfield Homestead Road...(Thanks Angie.) that resembled a stable. No room in the Inn you know... There were chickens, roosters, and Lamas, surrounding the 8 little 10x12 cabins. But that is all we needed. It was so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;It was a quick trip but so nice to have Ben all to myself. We really needed a mini-vacation.&lt;br /&gt;And I got to go on my unofficial Twilight Tour!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-8295728089839225291?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8295728089839225291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=8295728089839225291' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8295728089839225291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/8295728089839225291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/08/on-road-again.html' title='&quot;On the Road Again&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4284397921560840278</id><published>2008-07-26T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T10:11:17.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Memories in the corner of my mind"</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Add a comment on my blog, leave a memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you.It should be funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you. I've done this on a couple of my friends blogs and it is fun to see every one's memories! Please, take the time to comment and write a memory of us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4284397921560840278?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4284397921560840278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4284397921560840278' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4284397921560840278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4284397921560840278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/07/memories-in-corner-of-my-mind.html' title='&quot;Memories in the corner of my mind&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3919152371100400649</id><published>2008-07-26T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T09:49:52.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Do you love me, now that I can dance..."</title><content type='html'>This weekend the South Sound area put on a 12 stake dance festival! 12 stakes! At first I really thought this was going to be too big, too much time, trouble and way too much wasted money on costumes, food and renting out the Tacoma Dome! But now that it is here, I understand why. I went to the first performance last night and the dome was packed with people to see the show, members and nonmembers alike. But when all the kids from 12 stakes around the region all ran out and filled the floor to do the opening number I was giggling and wanted to cry at the same time. I was so excited for these kids.  It was so fun to see them all come together knowing how much time and effort it took to put it together.&lt;br /&gt;This neat, proud parent-type experience, (well, pseudo-mom, Mackay was in the front row, and his sailor costume was soooo cute)  turned into a spiritual experience for me when a youth choir sang the EFY As Sister's in Zion/We'll Bring the World His Truth number. The spirit was so strong. This really is His youth, the next generation of leaders in the church. It was just amazing. My heart really was filled.&lt;br /&gt;I love these kids so much(especially my nephew Mackay). I learned a new love for my YW girls this year especially at Girls Camp. I saw a small glimpse of how God sees each one of His girls and how much he loves them and wants them to be happy. Even though, Girls Camp for me was an emotional one and my patience was tried, I know I was used as an instrument in God's hand to tell my girls certain things. My group of girls at camp were some of the hardest behavior-wise, but also some of the most troubled. Truly, refugees just trying to find a safe place. &lt;br /&gt;I really am learning how to share the gospel and to truly not be ashamed of the gospel of the Lord. The secret is to just be myself. Sharing myself is sharing the gospel.&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone has a good weekend.  And yes, Emily, I will post photos of your sweet, lady-killer son. Man, I'm gonna miss him. I will try to get some of him in the sailor suit, you are going to die!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3919152371100400649?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3919152371100400649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3919152371100400649' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3919152371100400649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3919152371100400649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/07/do-you-love-me-now-that-i-can-dance.html' title='&quot;Do you love me, now that I can dance...&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2262010494445686357</id><published>2008-07-15T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:52.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"And bombs bursted in air..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0ktmALXmI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Gm8B6OdYB3w/s1600-h/July+2008+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jp_xd1LI/AAAAAAAAAD0/kg_skHPMRzY/s1600-h/July+2008+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223370347220161714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jp_xd1LI/AAAAAAAAAD0/kg_skHPMRzY/s320/July+2008+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jqmGiroI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4yrcSMNl4q8/s1600-h/July+2008+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223370357509107330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jqmGiroI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4yrcSMNl4q8/s320/July+2008+015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jrTiBNVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cCgMR9WQnys/s1600-h/July+2008+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jrqR4ToI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Dj6bxq6bZaY/s1600-h/July+2008+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223370375810272898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jrqR4ToI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Dj6bxq6bZaY/s320/July+2008+045.JPG" 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/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hSQJtjJI/AAAAAAAAADc/cexIwdybrhs/s1600-h/July+2008+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223367740276706450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hSQJtjJI/AAAAAAAAADc/cexIwdybrhs/s320/July+2008+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hS9NhwSI/AAAAAAAAADk/QyQ5f_6WhCA/s1600-h/July+2008+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223367752372306210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hS9NhwSI/AAAAAAAAADk/QyQ5f_6WhCA/s320/July+2008+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hTTaPD8I/AAAAAAAAADs/lrBLxcqNH_A/s1600-h/July+2008+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223367758331187138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0hTTaPD8I/AAAAAAAAADs/lrBLxcqNH_A/s320/July+2008+010.JPG" 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/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0fqnnXedI/AAAAAAAAADU/pBvwX2gM19s/s1600-h/July+2008+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223365959868709330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0fqnnXedI/AAAAAAAAADU/pBvwX2gM19s/s320/July+2008+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa, that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of fireworks! After the traditional 3rd of July fireworks show at the Emerald Downs, Ben, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mackay&lt;/span&gt; and I headed up to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Muckelshoot&lt;/span&gt; Reservation to buy illegal fireworks. It was so much fun bartering and bargaining to get the best deal on this HUGE pack of cakes, rockets, shells, crackers and other showy fireworks. Ben donated some money to the cause and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mackay&lt;/span&gt; had a blast setting up this immaculate display and blowing off hours of fireworks. Needless to say it was a Lake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tapps&lt;/span&gt; 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July, with lots of firework shows, fun and food. Although, it was a little rainy and cloudy we still had fun--just not in the lake (it was way too cold for that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day Ben and I went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tall Ships&lt;/span&gt; Festival in Tacoma with Josh and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Jerusha&lt;/span&gt; and the kids. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of fun to see the pirate ships but it rained on us there too. Hence, the wet dog hairdo. But a little rain never stops the true Washingtonian from enjoying a good street fair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, this year's Independence Day was really fun. It was a little more relaxed than other years but I think we needed it to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2262010494445686357?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2262010494445686357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2262010494445686357' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2262010494445686357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2262010494445686357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-bombs-bursted-in-air.html' title='&quot;And bombs bursted in air...&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SH0jp_xd1LI/AAAAAAAAAD0/kg_skHPMRzY/s72-c/July+2008+026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3359011659510232178</id><published>2008-07-01T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:53.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"High on the Mountain Top"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbk0jffMI/AAAAAAAAAC0/avNrlTXEuJQ/s1600-h/SD530134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218224543891422402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbk0jffMI/AAAAAAAAAC0/avNrlTXEuJQ/s320/SD530134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrblLf0x0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/DhAzkm2fMnY/s1600-h/SD530155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218224550050056002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrblLf0x0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/DhAzkm2fMnY/s320/SD530155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbllOHqMI/AAAAAAAAADE/vCHpEby5Nlc/s1600-h/SD530152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218224556955117762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbllOHqMI/AAAAAAAAADE/vCHpEby5Nlc/s320/SD530152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbmA6tLdI/AAAAAAAAADM/XJPRqqSzhpU/s1600-h/SD530141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218224564389883346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbmA6tLdI/AAAAAAAAADM/XJPRqqSzhpU/s320/SD530141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talk about a weekend warrior! Ben climbed Mt Adams last weekend with his brother Adam. Honestly, a part of me thinks it was just a good excuse to buy more gear from REI. But nonetheless, I am so incredibly proud of him. Mt Adams is the 2nd tallest mountain (or shall we say glacial volcano!) in the state of Washington next to majestic Mt Raineer. He climbed up 12,300 feet in elevation in a day. They left home last Friday morning and started the hike at noon and got to high camp that evening after 8 miles. They started the climb at midnight and hiked through the night. They reached the summit at 9 a.m. and back down by noon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was Ben and Adam's first mountain and Ben says it was the hardest thing he has ever done. But they say they will do it again. There was only one portion of the mountain that Ben said he would never do it again. But once he hit the real summit, he understood why people do this kind of thing. --The view--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am just glad he was safe. They say this was a really good "beginner" mountain. It was steep and hard 8,000 elevation gain and 20 miles round trip but not really any crevases to fall into. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our mountaineering friend Doran and his brother Lance, led the group up the mountain and pushed Ben and Adam to the tippy top summit. They are very experienced and I felt good trusting my husband's life in their hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, way to go babe! I knew you could do it. Seeing how you can do anything you put your mind to. I love him so much. He is my motivation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5535377895802766803-3359011659510232178?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3359011659510232178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3359011659510232178' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3359011659510232178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3359011659510232178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/07/high-on-mountain-top.html' title='&quot;High on the Mountain Top&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SGrbk0jffMI/AAAAAAAAAC0/avNrlTXEuJQ/s72-c/SD530134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4254809524214277220</id><published>2008-06-26T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T15:24:28.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Isn't it Ironic?" --Alanis</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The irony of this post is that it will probably describe exactly why I shouldn’t be blogging right now. My little simple life is a little jam packed and I technically should be too busy to blog. But I needed a break from writing…ironic.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Girls Camp is in a week and a half. Lucky me, I am the ward camp director which means I am tracking down registration forms and money and doing lice checks. Eew &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am also going to camp as the 2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; Level Certification Leader. That means I am a glorified babysitter for the week over the 13 year olds. (ooh my favorite age, can you sense the sarcasm?) &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It also means I am spending hours hunting dollar stores for little trinkets for creative little handouts that will just be thrown away. But it is all in the presentation, right?&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So, because I am going away for a week to sing camp songs and plan silly skits, I have to get caught up on work before I leave. So, I am writing like a banshee this week and next in between everything else. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Oh yeah and our &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Tacoma&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; house is recently vacant and ready for me to clean, paint, and rent out again. But the other drama of being a slum lord has died down. (Ben, hates when I refer to us as slum lords, hehehe) &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;No one wants to sue us anymore and nothing is broken as of this moment in time. Sometimes I wish they all burned down. Now that would be an interesting post. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Sigh…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, instead of just simplifying life, I decided to get into one more thing that makes me happy. I actually started doing digital scrapbooks. It is SO much fun!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It really is so ironic. I write and do layout for a living so I just joined Heritage Makers to write and do layout for a hobby. And here I am taking a break from writing to write and layout my blog. I guess I love what I love. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, check out my new little love….www.digitalscrapbooksonline.com&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I started my 2007 &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Florida&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:State&gt; trip. I will post a preview when I get a chance. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;One more thing about our life: &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My sweet Ben is climbing a mountain this weekend. Why, you ask.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, I don’t know. I imagine he just wants to see if he can do it. So, I am being supportive. The little bugger talked me into making him lasagna to load up on carbs and I will send him and his brother off to Mt Adams tomorrow morning. More on that one later.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Wish him luck. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Wish me luck too. I think I will need it to survive July and 25, 13-year olds for a week. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-4254809524214277220?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4254809524214277220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4254809524214277220' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4254809524214277220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4254809524214277220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/06/isnt-it-ironic-alanis.html' title='&quot;Isn&apos;t it Ironic?&quot; --Alanis'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-7259136703554349213</id><published>2008-06-14T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:53.218-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Father&apos;s Day'/><title type='text'>"Where, Oh Where Did the Dad Go..." -- Ron Nielsen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SFSeQOXugdI/AAAAAAAAACs/Me1qEg8J-g4/s1600-h/daddydance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SFSeQOXugdI/AAAAAAAAACs/Me1qEg8J-g4/s320/daddydance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211964670347215314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your first impression of my father would depend entirely on where you first met him. If you met him at a family reunion, you may think he is the funniest, goofy little man you have ever seen in a sombrero with a Danish accent.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But if you met him at church you would think he was the most profound, enlightened man with such compassion and wisdom.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But to me my dad is both and so much more. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;He really has the best sense of humor—one that he knows when to pull out and ham up. One of my favorite memories of him is of course the famous “Where, Oh Where did the wife go,” song.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He would play the same two cords in different octaves over and over in this little song about Luanne. Oh, it made us kids laugh and laugh. We would dance around singing along. He had so many funny little stories that we can all still recite. &lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For example: “Peter Magorie”&lt;br /&gt;I’ll tell you a story of Peter Magorie.&lt;br /&gt;Now shall I begin…&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you another of his brother.&lt;br /&gt;The End. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are so many memories I am just giggling as I type. But all the funnies aside my Dad was also a teacher—in word and deed. He taught us the basics of everything from sports to balancing the checkbook. Sorry Dad I still don’t use my register very well but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Although, he often sat us down for a formal lesson in whatever it was at the time, he also taught us through his example. He taught us how to work hard. That you never miss a day of work unless you are throwing up or bleeding.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Especially retiring with dignity in the old fashioned way with months of sick leave still saved up. He taught us how to have integrity and what it means to serve with dedication. He taught us how to love and show someone that you love them. I never doubted that my father loved my mother or any of us kids. He always knew how to show it and that meant more than any words could express. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I also have never doubted his love of the gospel. He has always had a testimony of Jesus Christ as the Savior. I always knew that and I didn’t hear him verbally bear it very often. His testimony is in how he lived everyday of his life.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;And now with him serving the Lord and his fellow Mexicano hermanos, he is too far away for me to thank him in person and tell him to his face how much I love him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, here it goes on a public blog on the internet—plus I had to make it even, since I blogged a roast to Mom last month. Dad, you are the greatest. I love you so much and thank you for being such a wonderful example to me. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;You truly make everyone around you want to be a better person--including me.  Happy Father's Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-7259136703554349213?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7259136703554349213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=7259136703554349213' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7259136703554349213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/7259136703554349213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/06/where-oh-where-did-dad-go-ron-nielsen.html' title='&quot;Where, Oh Where Did the Dad Go...&quot; -- Ron Nielsen'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SFSeQOXugdI/AAAAAAAAACs/Me1qEg8J-g4/s72-c/daddydance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-4139744610642657022</id><published>2008-05-29T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T18:28:31.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Just a teenage dirtbag"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It must be the combination of catching up on work and sleep that has made this week hard. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;First, Lack of Sleep. Cause: driving 13 hours in the middle of the night to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Utah&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:State&gt;. Staying up late with my family and getting up early from Thursday to Sunday, and driving 13 hours in the middle of the night back to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Washington&lt;/st1:State&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then of course it was straight back to work. This week was deadline week for the newsletter. I was finishing the final touches to my new color newsletter. I worked so hard to research and network to get it approved to run color. I am so excited to see a more professional newsletter. I will have to post the link when it prints.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Also, I have been putting out all the fires with our projects. Fires that I don’t really want to detail here on a blog but fires that were making me heated nonetheless! Believe me I am usually a patient person, but this week I had my claws out. But after a million phone calls and coordination from a couple thousand miles away, things are looking better. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think Ben and I deal with things in our young age that most people never have to even think about. One thing I can say is I am learning and growing. I feel like a completely different person from when I got married and I owe it to Ben and all the life experiences he dreams up for us.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;It was so nice to see my family. It has been almost a year since I have seen the family and I missed them so much. I can’t believe how big the baby girls are now. I met little Lia, Loren’s daughter, for the first time this weekend and I wanted to steal her. She is the sweetest thing. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I didn’t end up stealing the baby but I did steal a teenager. Well, maybe not steal. Mackay, my 16 year old nephew, is living with us for the summer (with full permission of course.) We got him set up to work side jobs for the neighbors and friends from the ward. He will be very busy and learn how much money he can make by working for himself if he works hard. It has been pretty good so far. We like having him here. I was telling my friends that I just went from no kids to the pseudo mom of a teenager. Talk about a lesson in parenting. Wish me luck! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&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/5535377895802766803-4139744610642657022?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/4139744610642657022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=4139744610642657022' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4139744610642657022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/4139744610642657022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-teenage-dirtbag.html' title='&quot;Just a teenage dirtbag&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6087072848443007712</id><published>2008-05-11T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:53.349-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Love at Home"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SCeIEUEj1SI/AAAAAAAAACk/m42XTQUJKyo/s1600-h/mom2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SCeIEUEj1SI/AAAAAAAAACk/m42XTQUJKyo/s320/mom2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199273902511215906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My mom, Luanne Anderson Nielsen is a beautiful woman and has been for her entire life. Even as a baby she won the beautiful baby contest. As a kid, I loved seeing that photo of her with the rosiest cheeks I have ever seen on a baby. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She is smart, full of love and integrity, and has impeccable penmanship. Ask anyone who knows her and they will probably mention her flawless signature. One I even tried (and failed) to master as an adolescent. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She is driven and authentic. I looked up to her when she went back to school to earn her masters degree. She was so dedicated to her education but so dedicated to us; to her family. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As a grown woman, I understand the sacrifices she made for us. For the time she spent just making our home comfortable, clean and organized. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She made holidays wonderful and Sunday dinners memorable. I know now that it was her who made it all come together. Those cookies in the cookie drawer, the clean carpets and the peace in our home—it was all her doing. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She always listened and always cared. Some of the fondest memories of my mom are the simple ones; where she and I are just chatting as we get ready in the morning. I didn’t realize how close we were becoming but looking back we talked nearly every day through high school and on through college and beyond. We talked through my classes and stressful professors, jobs, and boys. We talked about everything and anything. She confided in me and me in her. She has become my best, most cherished friend.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She is a woman of such strength, meekness and humility. She has no idea how wonderful and strong she is. She doesn’t know how smart and dedicated she is. But she can do anything she puts her mind too—even learn another language in her seasoned years. Blame it on her father’s stubborn flare but she gets what she sets out to get. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I love my Mom with all my heart and am so proud to know her. I have the same blood running through my veins of some wonderful women. Donna, Alta, Eunice, they were all women I am proud to be related to. I hope I can become half the person any of them was and a smidgen of the woman my mother is.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I love you, Mom. What you have given me through your example and the way you just live life is something that will always be with me. Your influence has made me who I am.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I see pieces of you in me, and I’m ok with that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6087072848443007712?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6087072848443007712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6087072848443007712' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6087072848443007712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6087072848443007712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/05/love-at-home.html' title='&quot;Love at Home&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SCeIEUEj1SI/AAAAAAAAACk/m42XTQUJKyo/s72-c/mom2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-890724780558018099</id><published>2008-05-08T07:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T07:40:46.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"In Sickness and In Health"</title><content type='html'>My sweet Ben is sick. He has been in bed for the past two days with fevers, a sore throat, and body aches. About three weeks ago he was sick with the same thing. It went away but now it came back with a vengeance.  The first time he worked right through it. Crashing at about 5 p.m. but working still the same. He couldn't do that this time. If any of you really know Ben, you know it kills him not to work. He has never called in sick a day in his life. (OK a couple times, but not very often...and only when he is too sick to move) He really loves to work. When he is off work he works on other side jobs. This week he has almost slept 36 hours in two days.&lt;br /&gt;Another telltale, is that he went to the doctor yesterday. Now, that was a breakthrough. He hates the doctor. He had to go to the doctor almost every 6 months as a kid and when they never knew what was wrong with him or finally concluded that there was nothing wrong with him, Ben completely lost all respect and faith in doctors.  I pestered him and persisted until he agreed to go get checked out.  They said it was a deep sinus infection and they gave us antibiotics.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bad for him. I love him so much and I hate to see him sick.  I find myself grateful for my own health and the health of my family and friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-890724780558018099?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/890724780558018099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=890724780558018099' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/890724780558018099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/890724780558018099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/05/in-sickness-and-in-health.html' title='&quot;In Sickness and In Health&quot;'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-3833070404277403022</id><published>2008-05-06T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T08:20:31.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pacific Northwest According To Jeff Foxworthy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span id="role_document" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;I thought Jeff Foxworthy    did Southern humor but he seemed to nail this    one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   1. You know the state flower    (Mildew).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   2. You feel guilty throwing aluminum cans or paper in the    trash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   3. Use the statement 'sun break' and know what it    means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   4. You know more than 10 ways to order    coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   5 You know more people who own boats than air    conditioners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   6. You feel overdressed wearing a suit to a nice    restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   7. You stand on a deserted corner in the rain waiting for the 'WALK'    signal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   8. You consider that if it has no snow or has not recently erupted, it's not a    real    mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   9. You can taste the difference between Starbucks, Seattle's Best, and    Tully's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 10. You know the difference between Chinook, Coho and Sockeye    salmon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   11. You know how to pronounce Sequim, Puyallup, Issaquah, Oregon, Yakima and    Willamette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   12. You consider swimming an indoor    sport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   13. You can tell the difference between Japanese, Chinese and Thai    food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   14. In winter, you go to work in the dark and come home in the dark while only    working    eight-&lt;br /&gt;                         hour    days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   15. You never go camping without waterproof matches and a    poncho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   16. You are not fazed by 'Today's forecast: showers followed by rain," and    'Tomorrow's forecast: rain                             followed by    showers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   17 You have no concept of humidity without    precipitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   18. You know that Boring is a town in Oregon and not just a state of    mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   19. You can point to at least two volcanoes, even if you cannot see t hrough    the cloud    cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   20. You notice, 'The mountain is out' when it is a pretty day and you can    actually see    it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   21. You put on your shorts when the temperature gets above 50, but still wear    your hiking    boots&lt;br /&gt;                          and    parka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   22. You switch to your sandals when it gets about 60, but keep the socks    on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   23. You have actually used your mountain bike on a    mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   24. You think people who use umbrellas are either wimps or    tourists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   25. You buy new sunglasses every year, because you cannot find the old ones    after such a long    time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   26. You measure distance in    hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   27. You often switch from 'heat' to 'a/c' in the same    day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   28. You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit under a    raincoat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   29. You know all the important seasons: AlmostWinter, Winter, Still Raining    (Spring),    Road&lt;br /&gt;                         Construction (Summer), Deer &amp;amp;  Elk season    (Fall).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. If you understood those jokes, you probably live in the Northwest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-3833070404277403022?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/3833070404277403022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=3833070404277403022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3833070404277403022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/3833070404277403022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/05/pacific-northwest-according-to-jeff.html' title='The Pacific Northwest According To Jeff Foxworthy'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6328498655637737423</id><published>2008-05-02T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:53.604-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Well, we can't all come and go by bubble"  --Alphaba, The Wicked Witch of the West</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBvBFgTvUTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/H_hnYWyw10s/s1600-h/wicked_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBvBFgTvUTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/H_hnYWyw10s/s320/wicked_logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195958895418233138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back just in time for Ben to leave me at home. He is out camping with the scouts, and he doesn't count that as a vacation. I guess I can't really complain. I mean, I was just gone practically all week. California was really nice. We mostly shopped, ate, and chilled. Of course we went to see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wicked&lt;/span&gt;. This clever, prequel spin-off of the Wizard of Oz was fun and energetic. It is the untold story of the Wicked Witch of the West. Overall, I loved it.   The morals of the play: Things aren't always what they seem; Sometimes being smart and passionate is better than being beautiful and popular; and It ain't easy being green.  It was fun. Sixflags was awesome. Oh, my gosh it was some freakin' crazy roller coasters. I love a thrill and I have never been scared of coasters but some of those rides were pretty intimidating. Some went  70 miles per hour (I am NOT exaggerating) and dropped nearly 90 degree angles. I swear I thought I was going to die...but I didn't and I loved it after I knew I was going to live and walk away with my feet still in tact. There was no crowd really so we walked on to every ride without waiting in a line. That was the best part. My favorite ride was Tatsu, so if you make it to Sixflags Magic Mountain hit that crazy ride up. I enjoyed myself. Krickett, Robyn and Keirie were fun chicks to go with. Thanks for letting me tag along. I decided that women need women. We can't live without female kinships. Men just don't get us.  I feel crazy sometimes when I try on a million outfits or circle the store four times just checking if I missed something. But then I realize I'm not crazy...I'm just a woman. And there is nothing wrong with any of us. Our men just don't understand us. I love all the fun ladies in my life right now and my girlfriends from every stage of my life. Especially my sisters and my mom, whom I miss terribly.  We need a sisters day as soon as Madre gets back into the country. I love ya'll and miss you tons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-6328498655637737423?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6328498655637737423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6328498655637737423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6328498655637737423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6328498655637737423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/05/well-we-cant-all-come-and-go-by-bubble.html' title='&quot;Well, we can&apos;t all come and go by bubble&quot;  --Alphaba, The Wicked Witch of the West'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBvBFgTvUTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/H_hnYWyw10s/s72-c/wicked_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2735938179721799376</id><published>2008-04-25T23:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:53.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Stop worrying. Hollywood won’t turn your daughter into a nymphomaniac or get her hooked on drugs... I will."  -Bill Maher</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBLTrQTvUSI/AAAAAAAAABo/WX1F58Pqly8/s1600-h/hollywood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBLTrQTvUSI/AAAAAAAAABo/WX1F58Pqly8/s320/hollywood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193446060377198882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello Hollywood! So, I am going to California next week. I know, I didn't know either.  I just found out about two hours ago. A couple of my girl friends had a trip to LA planned to go see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wicked&lt;/span&gt; and one of the girls bailed. Since they had an extra ticket and an empty spot in the hotel I just couldn't pass up the invitation.   So, I booked my flight on Friday night and I am flying out on Tuesday morning ... I am CRAZY! But I am so excited. I am always up for a spontaneous trip and especially to warm and toasty southern California. It will be a quick trip but worth it. We plan to go to Sixflags Magic Mountain, the play, and do alot of shopping. We are actually staying in Hollywood.  Holla to Robyn and  Krickett! See you in LA!&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my summer has already begun. I feel so spoiled. Number One: I have a job that I can totally go on a last minute vacation and Two: Ben and I just went down to Seaside Oregon last weekend for a getaway. By the way, that trip was so nice. It was cold and stormy but Ben and I got to be together and finally relax.  We ate way too much and walked the beach and the shops. It was a Nielsen-style vacation--completely planned around what to eat next. I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;I will post photos of my trip later.  Woo Hoo.  And don't worry about Ben, I will have Tuna Casserole in the fridge so he doesn't starve. I figure I have to go away every once in a while so he keeps appreciating all I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2735938179721799376?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2735938179721799376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2735938179721799376' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2735938179721799376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2735938179721799376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/04/stop-worrying-hollywood-wont-turn-your.html' title='&quot;Stop worrying. Hollywood won’t turn your daughter into a nymphomaniac or get her hooked on drugs... I will.&quot;  -Bill Maher'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SBLTrQTvUSI/AAAAAAAAABo/WX1F58Pqly8/s72-c/hollywood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-5136787296978404661</id><published>2008-04-16T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:54.095-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Cannery'/><title type='text'>“Minimum Wage HeeYaw dodododo…” –They Might Be Giants</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SAZvQ4G63VI/AAAAAAAAABg/myKkhy-ARCE/s1600-h/assembly+line.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SAZvQ4G63VI/AAAAAAAAABg/myKkhy-ARCE/s320/assembly+line.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189957956321074514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, apparently, Mormons work for their food &lt;i style=""&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; pay for it. I was working the assembly line to earn our canned taco meat last week and the hard work brought back memories of the Sprout Farm.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Oh, the Sprout Farm. I only worked there a couple of months my first summer in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Washington&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, but it was unforgettable. (it was the only job I was fired from, but that is another story) &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That summer I signed up to work at Labor Ready—a skuzzy, temp service for hard labor jobs. It is a “work today, get paid today” kind of place so, you can imagine the caliber of people signing up. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Usually, big burly men are for hire there to work construction or move things like refrigerators, which happened to be the running joke…Can you imagine petite little Mel showing up at your door to move your fridge?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yeah right! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But Labor Ready found me my fair share of crazy odd jobs.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I worked as an eviction mover one day; at a car wrecking yard cleaning up engine parts; and at the infamous Sprout Farm packaging sprouts of all kinds with other assembly line women. They hired me the first day I went there on Labor Ready assignment. That same summer I got a job as a personal assistant for an Asian Furniture store in the mall that I was pretty sure was smuggling drugs or at least cheating on their taxes. Finally, I finished the season out as a bank teller before moving back to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Utah&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So this reminiscent day at the cannery reminded me of all my many odd jobs that got me through school and the summer breaks.   &lt;span style=""&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I worked at an impound car lot as a secretary; at a customer service booth at an adult science fair (weird I know but it was a research show for real scientists set up like a huge science fair); and at a banquet serving alligator jumbo and other southern cuisine. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I worked also as a housecleaner for a lady whose son had a crush on me; as a baker; as a DI sales associate; and as a deli girl at Macey’s, who was always stuck cleaning the chicken fryer.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Macey’s Food and Drug got me through my high school and some of my college days as well as two telemarketing places both inbound and outbound; and then of course my favorite place of work the University Journal that wasn’t like work at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Man, I miss having a summer break but I don’t miss working for minimum wage. By the way, I can’t stand the smell of sprouts now and I gag every time they end up on my sandwich or salad. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But remember next time you go to the store that some college kid probably packaged those veggies in an assembly line somewhere and be grateful it wasn't you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-5136787296978404661?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5136787296978404661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=5136787296978404661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5136787296978404661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5136787296978404661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/04/minimum-wage-heeyaw-dodododo-they-might.html' title='“Minimum Wage HeeYaw dodododo…” –They Might Be Giants'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/SAZvQ4G63VI/AAAAAAAAABg/myKkhy-ARCE/s72-c/assembly+line.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-6453298817317344248</id><published>2008-04-09T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T15:28:55.684-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy Birthday Melissa'/><title type='text'>“Life is what happens when your busy making other plans.”  --John Lennon.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;It starts when you are born.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Life just moves us all through time and phases dictated by age. With each "right of passage" there is usually a title with things you are supposed to have accomplished in that level in life. Society and culture sets the criteria. A 16-year old is supposed to be in high school, driving and dating. The patterns start when he enters the world and the steps are set for the American kid through kindergarten until high school and college graduation. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then real life starts. There are no more set levels or hoops to jump through. The decisions of what to do in life or where to go next is not predetermined anymore. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here I am. Recently, age 25. Waiting… Realizing this is it. This is my adventure. I am completely in control of my life and my future. There is no title or door with my name on it. There is no rule book determining what a 25-year old ought to be doing or how she should be dressing. How many kids she should have or what she should be doing next. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know where I thought I would be. The decisions I made, the small seemingly meaningless decisions, have brought me here. Whether I knew it or not, my everyday choices were shaping my path in life. And my life is simple and sweet. I don’t live a grand life but I can’t say it isn’t what I wanted. I don’t think we can ever even dream up the details. But I am making goals. I am setting my own next level and it isn’t scary anymore. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I am thrilled I have so much freedom before me. Every choice is mine. And I choose to live in my moment right now and stop worrying about what’s next and why I’m not there yet. I still plan and think about tomorrow but I enjoy my today a little bit more. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&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/5535377895802766803-6453298817317344248?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6453298817317344248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=6453298817317344248' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6453298817317344248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/6453298817317344248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-is-what-happens-when-your-busy.html' title='“Life is what happens when your busy making other plans.”  --John Lennon.'/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-5090817984475739015</id><published>2008-04-03T15:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:15:54.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_Vc65-AvYI/AAAAAAAAABA/srizZdhpsho/s1600-h/Saidie-Zoo-Concrete+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_Vc65-AvYI/AAAAAAAAABA/srizZdhpsho/s320/Saidie-Zoo-Concrete+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185152713050078594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago this Saturday we got little Sadie, my yellow lab. Ben got her for me for my birthday and I was so excited. I don't know how he is going to top that one. I wanted a dog so bad and I love her to death. She is a fetch-aholic and swims every chance she can get. She usually disappears to the lake next door or gets the other dogs in the neighborhood in trouble.  She is probably MIA as we speak.  Ben says he hates her but we all know the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-5090817984475739015?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5090817984475739015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=5090817984475739015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5090817984475739015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/5090817984475739015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/04/year-ago-this-saturday-we-got-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_Vc65-AvYI/AAAAAAAAABA/srizZdhpsho/s72-c/Saidie-Zoo-Concrete+059.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535377895802766803.post-2539664685128807311</id><published>2008-04-03T15:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T15:18:30.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I thought I would wait until I had a couple kids to show off before I entered this world of web logging but here I am.  I blame it on my friend Jill. I wanted to post a comment on her page and it forced me to have a login name.   One more thing to distract me from productive internet surfing.   I needed a new hobby anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5535377895802766803-2539664685128807311?l=benmelissamorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/feeds/2539664685128807311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5535377895802766803&amp;postID=2539664685128807311' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2539664685128807311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5535377895802766803/posts/default/2539664685128807311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benmelissamorton.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-thought-i-would-wait-until-i-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Mortons</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9Zo-6fDllsQ/R_VXR5-AvXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ywtI17xfxuM/S220/P4180331.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
