tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-299688682024-03-14T04:07:50.964-04:00Life as a ChockleyPhilliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-65237973457999530372009-10-06T22:38:00.002-04:002009-10-06T23:04:13.002-04:00Giddy Girls!Phillip Arthur is due home in 14 days and a wake up! I'm not gonna lie, we are some Giddy Girls around here! Ella clearly has no concept of time but she feeds off my excitement and I think from that she understands Daddy's return is very soon. <div><br /></div><div>I might be looking forward to this day more than our own wedding day. That may be sad but I think it's true. I love that boy more than I did then and perhaps that's why or maybe it's just the fact I haven't seen him in almost 7 months. I can't explain the excitement that is inside of me but my military spouse cohorts who have walked this road before me, you know what I'm talking about! </div><div><br /></div><div>Ella has a list of things to do once daddy gets home and it ain't a short one! I wish I had a fraction of a penny for every time I've heard "I miss daddy" over the last 7 months and I'd probably be able to wipe out the US budget deficit! No lie! </div><div><br /></div><div>I have my own list as I'm sure you could have guessed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Phillip made a comment the other day that he wishes he could have bottled his experiences in order to pull them out one by one for us to discuss, laugh about, etc. I replied that I wished the same for my experiences as well. I think the first one I'd pull out would be from Sunday...Mondays are garbage days so since Ella was consumed in some PBS Super Why and Josie was chowing on some Gerber puffs I decided to run down to the basement and grab the recycle containers and garbage cans. As I rounded the corner of the house I was confused why there was a black water hose stretched across more than half my driveway and just as I nearly stepped on the thing I clued in that it wasn't a hose at all it was huge "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mongoyed</span>" black snake! I don't do spiders, camel crickets, or house <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">centipedes</span> let alone SNAKES! I ran to the neighbor's house to get help and this help turned into a more than hour affair of NO ONE wanting to rid this world of the snake now practically laying at my front door! I called P in Iraq as if he could assist me through the phone, but for some reason I feel the need to tell the boy everything and it makes me feel better regardless. So the long and short of it is the snake "moved on." How poor Ella managed to not see the thing peering in our living room windows that run all the way to the floor is beyond me, but thank goodness she didn't. So, yeah, I'm ready for P to be home and deal with all the things that creep and slither around here! </div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, we're still giddy!</div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-22625081223113019762009-08-22T22:16:00.006-04:002009-08-22T22:33:16.375-04:00Picture Time!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCo5bepZVI/AAAAAAAAAVk/TNr18PlawZo/s1600-h/IMG_0261.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCo5bepZVI/AAAAAAAAAVk/TNr18PlawZo/s320/IMG_0261.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372980060035310930" /></a>Josie passed out in her high chair after playing her heart out at an indoor play center. Hysterical! Ella was disturbed that I actually let the kiddo sleep there. Josie doesn't nap so I'll take what I can get.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCokWk7heI/AAAAAAAAAVc/WnI1GCa9xyU/s1600-h/IMG_0255.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCokWk7heI/AAAAAAAAAVc/WnI1GCa9xyU/s320/IMG_0255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372979697942234594" /></a>Ella was thrilled when I informed her I was cooking black eyed peas. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCoWgdJk0I/AAAAAAAAAVU/xuwmDXMerr4/s1600-h/IMG_0254.JPG"><br /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCn3U3_VUI/AAAAAAAAAVM/l5YLV87ytl4/s1600-h/IMG_0250.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCn3U3_VUI/AAAAAAAAAVM/l5YLV87ytl4/s320/IMG_0250.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372978924391191874" /></a>If you know and love my husband then you know this picture says it all. I found this shirt long before Josie was thought about but it was a must buy. Rest assured Phillip has received many cases of Mello Yello since he left.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCnWkR4i1I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Aw6khEgU9Mk/s1600-h/IMG_0243.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SpCnWkR4i1I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Aw6khEgU9Mk/s320/IMG_0243.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372978361590647634" /></a>Ella B and her Uncle Micah on the carousel at the Knoxville Zoo.</div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-89882135131570843292009-08-12T22:55:00.003-04:002009-08-14T22:12:03.623-04:00Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jig!7632 miles later we're home. The girls and I returned home last week with the help of Nana (my mom) and Uncle Scott (my brother). Thanks to some wonderful neighbors and friends the house faired much better than I expected. We worked like crazy though to get some area rugs down for JoJo, who is on the GoGo! ( The child NEVER STOPS MOVING!) We were able to get some much needed curtains hung as well as a trip to IKEA, which was a first for Mom and Scott. I also was able to hire a regular sitter which I happen to think is an ABSOLUTE God Send! She is wonderful and I look forward to my girls getting to know her better! Now, if preschool would just hurry up and begin for Ella I'd be good to go! <div><br /></div><div>4 months down and 3 to go! I will survive! I am woman hear me ROAR...umm is it November yet?!?!? </div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-4586872419423146832009-06-16T00:56:00.014-04:002009-06-16T23:15:37.476-04:00Fishin' with Papa<div><div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhBR5HMB0I/AAAAAAAAAUE/YLPjxUrqIF0/s1600-h/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348096333147014978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhBR5HMB0I/AAAAAAAAAUE/YLPjxUrqIF0/s320/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+001.jpg" border="0" /></a>My dad (Papa) loves to fish. It's always been the one thing you can count on Dad really enjoying </div><div>and always willing to go do. He was eager to get Ella her first fishing pole and take her out. A week or so ago he took her to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cabela's</span> and purchased her a beautiful pink and purple Disney Princesses rod and reel. Ella can't seem to say "rod and reel" and it usually comes out "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">grod</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">greel</span>." <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Anywho</span>, he got her set up to practice casting in the backyard shortly after the purchase. </div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhBrLbTv7I/AAAAAAAAAUM/Y_u7Fw6Rnxc/s1600-h/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348096767559974834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhBrLbTv7I/AAAAAAAAAUM/Y_u7Fw6Rnxc/s320/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+006.jpg" border="0" /></a>However, she was more interested in trying to catch the crown casted out rather than casting or reeling.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhEBA1DnPI/AAAAAAAAAUU/0gvOH6jSNs4/s1600-h/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+009.jpg"></a></div><br /><div>On Sunday after church we headed to Riverfront Park which has a small lake loaded with little fish. Unfortunately, during the many rains last week I discovered Ella is petrified of earthworms which I knew would make fishing interesting. And it did! </div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/Sjhd7jpnNpI/AAAAAAAAAU8/9k5GIcY3doc/s320/IMG_0193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348127835265906322" /><div><br /></div><div>Dad was seated on the bank and when he opened that little container of worms Ella practically climbed all the way up his back and on top of his hat squealing like only a 3 year old can. HYSTERICAL to all of us. Then her Disney Princesses decided to malfunction and rendered itself useless. She didn't seem too terribly upset but Dad and I were. There were literally hundreds of small blue gills just sitting at the bank ready to bite any and everything. It was ideal for her first fishing trip but needless to say the worms were a turn off. Then when she caught the first fish and I tried to get a picture of her and Papa with it, she ran all the way up the bank squealing and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cowering</span>. I couldn't get the picture quick enough. And when Papa took him off the hook to release him she squealed louder with her arms up in the air and said "No, no, aren't we taking him home?" I really think she thought we were gonna take the blue gill home and put him in a fish bowl like her goldfish Murphy.</div><br /><div>All the fun isn't on Ella I suppose. I love to fish and I can handle an earthworm no problem, except when Dad informed me in order to conserve worms I needed to "pinch" them in two. UH! NO! I said, "Dad, I'll hook my worm all day long but I don't squish worms in two prior to hooking them." He laughed as you might imagine. Now it's with that story that my dear sweet husband (who in the 10 plus years we've been together has NEVER gone fishing) said while laughing at me "that is why you don't take a girl fishing!" I beg to differ, of course. Then when I informed him that Dad hardly got to fish between me asking him to half the worms and me having to get him to take the little boogers off the hook to release, he just dropped his head and shook it. Nope, I don't take them off the hooks either. I am a girl! I can hook a worm and I can cast a rod with the best of them but I don't squish worms in two nor do I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">grab'em</span> and unhook 'em. I just don't!</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SjhcrmnjgDI/AAAAAAAAAU0/nFk07OSHzt8/s320/0614091330.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348126461673046066" /><div><br /><div>I apologized to dad repeatedly but he just laughed and assured me he loved it, he didn't care at all. He loved it so much he took me back out today! And he took Ella's Princess "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">grod</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">greel</span>" back and replaced it with a Lighting McQueen instead. Perhaps McQueen will be able to cast better than the Princesses and perhaps Ella will be more open to the use of artificial bait than the real worms. We'll find out later in the week!</div></div></div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com63tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-86587700874991071502009-06-04T19:24:00.015-04:002009-06-05T23:13:58.509-04:00Catchin' Up<div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SinYcy03E7I/AAAAAAAAATA/-ARK-IqLJ58/s1600-h/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344040422043227058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SinYcy03E7I/AAAAAAAAATA/-ARK-IqLJ58/s320/Papa+teaching+Ella+to+fish+020.jpg" border="0" /></a>Nothing much new in the Land of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Chockleys</span> but we're busy passing the time while Phillip is gone. We've been in MT for 3 weeks now and having a blast. I had the opportunity to go with Mom and Dad to the Montana State University at Billings annual fundraiser which is a Wine and Food Fest. It's mostly about the wine! They have 2 nights of events. The first night is heavy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre; BORDER-COLLAPSE: collapse; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hors</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">d'oeuvres</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> </span></span>and wine tasting along with a silent auction and then the second night is a sit down dinner, more wine tasting, more silent auctions and a live auction. There wasn't a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">durn</span> thing I could afford at the auction but it was fun to watch. After living in Italy I now find it amusing to see and try what caterers refer to as Italian <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">antipasti</span>. It's usually way too dressed up, overly marinated or a combination of the two. But for the most part the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre; BORDER-COLLAPSE: collapse; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">hors</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">d'oeuvres</span></span></span></span> were luscious!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SinZkIzUdYI/AAAAAAAAATI/gwdetm9TAVM/s1600-h/Picnic+with+the+Rosens+and+Buffalo+Bill+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344041647713056130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SinZkIzUdYI/AAAAAAAAATI/gwdetm9TAVM/s320/Picnic+with+the+Rosens+and+Buffalo+Bill+007.jpg" border="0" /></a> Our friends Jay and Michelle headed out here with their two boys for a few days. Ella falls in between James (4) and John Michael (2) so it was a great time for all. We went Memorial Day over to Cody, Wyoming, home of Buffalo Bill. There is a large museum there honoring Native Americans, the life and times of Buffalo Bill and a large gun museum. While we were there Buffalo Bill made an appearance; Ella and the boys had their picture made with him. He really looked just like him. It was pretty neat. Ella informed him her daddy was in Iraq and that "he is brave." Buffalo Bill was taken back and said, "you're gonna make me cry!" He was so sweet about it and told her that her daddy IS very brave. He was wearing an Americana scarf and he explained to her that he wears it in honor of those that serve. He actually served during Vietnam. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344042386976779570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SinaPKxhrTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/oz0bhxLkc24/s320/Picnic+with+the+Rosens+and+Buffalo+Bill+016.jpg" border="0" />Ella has no idea what "brave" really means, but it's something Mommy has told her about Daddy since he left but to hear her little 3 year-old self declare, "my daddy's brave!" makes me melt every time. She told me a few weeks ago that she needed to go get Daddy some "green medicine." When I inquired why daddy needed "green medicine" she said because he wouldn't have to be "brave anymore." I think she thought if daddy took some "green medicine" (her favorite color) then he wouldn't need to be brave and therefore he could come home.<br /><br /><div>I could write a book about Ella and her sayings or philosophies on life. Sometimes they make me laugh so hard I could cry and sometimes they just make me cry. Kind of like Forest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Gump</span> and his box of chocolates, with Ella, you just never know what you're gonna get. I love sayings like "next behinds me", Ella speak for "will you sit beside me" she clearly mixed beside me and next to me together. She also says, "I want different else" again, a mixture of something else and something different. I've also learned that Ella has no concept of when we're in a public restroom that it's best to just not talk at all. I'm so thankful for stall walls between us and those next to us. I'm certain there were a few ladies that just about lost it as Ella declared to the entire bathroom that she and I had matching pink panties, and if I thought her Uncle Micah was wearing pink panties as well. Now, if I could just remember to keep my purse closed as it sits beside her in the grocery cart, I'd be good to go. That's a story for another day! I do praise the Lord that I've out grown my easily embarrassed phase as a result of my 3-year-old. I think the man behind me at the check out counter and the cashier were far more embarrassed than I could have been. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ahh</span>, good times!</div><br /><div>Josie has discovered Nash and of course she loves him. He didn't seem to mind the attention either. Bless his heart she got his hair pretty good a few times and he just looked at me like "Honestly, is that necessary?" SHE IS STRONG! </div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/Sincb0J3OjI/AAAAAAAAATo/hLtVPwg1yBU/s1600-h/Josie+and+Nash+11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344044803266394674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/Sincb0J3OjI/AAAAAAAAATo/hLtVPwg1yBU/s200/Josie+and+Nash+11.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SindA4o6ecI/AAAAAAAAATw/eJ51Dg5u9Jk/s1600-h/Josie+and+Nash+14.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344045440125532610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SindA4o6ecI/AAAAAAAAATw/eJ51Dg5u9Jk/s200/Josie+and+Nash+14.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344046055577003218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SindktX-pNI/AAAAAAAAAT4/m7Ar29fun-g/s200/Josie+and+Nash+09.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Well, until next time...</div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-63703406214638663442009-05-14T23:53:00.013-04:002009-05-23T23:00:13.035-04:00Go West!Well, Phillip has been on his deployment for about a month and a half. Unfortunately, it seems it's hardly begun. Everyday down is a day closer to being together again. Before he left we made sure we had lots to do in the beginning to pass the time and it's hard to believe we're at the beginning of our last planned event. Ella, Josie, Nash, Murphy the goldfish and I left MD on April 9th, I think, and headed to TN. We spent Easter with my brother, Scott. Ella had her first memorable egg hunt. Totally redneck...it was at the Bass Pro Shop, however, it was the hardest egg hunt I've ever participated in. Then a week or so later the girls and I flew to FL to meet up with my parents, Nana and Papa for some time at Disney<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336923238655603474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShCPaMmYMxI/AAAAAAAAAR4/mz44eXsj4Kk/s320/Disney+with+Papa+019.jpg" border="0" /> and a visit with extended family. Ella had a blast at my uncle's in the Villages as she rode around everywhere on Uncle JJ's golf cart. We then returned to TN for a week before hitting the road with my parents to Montana where they currently live. We left on Mother's Day and it took us 4 days of driving to finally arrive safely in Billings, MT. As you can see along the way we made some stops. We took a slight detour to Nebraska for my mom who is determined to visit all 50 states. It was a short visit across the stateline but we happened upon a Lewis and Clark Welcome Center. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337655133016488914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMpEDj8-9I/AAAAAAAAASA/3DtY9vyAPSc/s320/2009+024.jpg" border="0" />The next day we hit,the Corn Palace in Mitchell, SD and Wall Drug in Wall, SD-if you've ever been you know it's a riot but one of those American roadtrip must see's. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMp9ZwigdI/AAAAAAAAASQ/mV_ZR_65ees/s1600-h/2009+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337656118227403218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMp9ZwigdI/AAAAAAAAASQ/mV_ZR_65ees/s320/2009+031.jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337655691896109394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMpkljPOVI/AAAAAAAAASI/Wcy2nIZgm3g/s320/2009+028.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMq1PhhxNI/AAAAAAAAASg/YGfw7UTSWpM/s1600-h/2009+050.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337657077552760018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMq1PhhxNI/AAAAAAAAASg/YGfw7UTSWpM/s320/2009+050.jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337656569782517154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMqXr7qvaI/AAAAAAAAASY/ViQTa8U2Tgo/s320/2009+035.jpg" border="0" />We also went to Mt. Rushmore that night and it was crazy windy and cold but again, we had to do it. They supposedly have a evening show with lights and a tribute to military which my parents have seen and really wanted me to see but it was just too windy for the girls and I'm convinced the Park Ranger on duty thought so too. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a light show that night.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337657853722086690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMria-tzSI/AAAAAAAAASo/vyjZrlV05jY/s320/2009+066.jpg" border="0" /> Then on Wednesday morning we made our last big stop at Bear Country USA. It's a drive through wildlife park. My dad and I were convinced we might get lucky to see one bear but I had no idea it would have as many as it did along with, Elk, Reindeer, Wolves, Wildcats, Buffalo, and Mt. Goats. It was worth every penny. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337658406593910594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/ShMsCmloV0I/AAAAAAAAASw/f3JJyt4ytXw/s320/2009+081.jpg" border="0" />For my Italy friends it was on par with the Zoofari down in Puglia. After we left there we continued the road trip through, WIND, RAIN, SNOW, and SLEET! Craziness, but we made it safe and sound. Gotta say I do love driving interstate with a speed limit of 75 and not a trooper ANYWHERE! It reminded me of Italy.Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-71989146742882633922009-04-13T22:05:00.011-04:002009-04-15T12:15:53.667-04:00The Rest of the ChocksI hesitate to even post anything since my hubby is a far superior blogger, but so many have inquired what the rest of us Chocks are doing, as well as how we're doing, while Daddy is away. We were fortunate enough to have a good bit of time with Phillip before he headed out. We spent a week at DisneyWorld and Phillip's brother, Micah, was able to join us for a few days. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324949935527935282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SeYFwOnhvTI/AAAAAAAAARQ/pDxKTV-4mSg/s320/EB+and+B+at+Animal.bmp" border="0" />The following week Phillip had off from work and we were able to run around and get some stuff done , thanks for that General POA, Phillip! And thanks to Josh and Ben we were able to have a date night. Then the last week of March, beginning of April, Phillip had to be in Norfolk for the week so the girls and I tagged along. We were blessed to be able to stay with some wonderful friends in Virginia Beach, The Knox Fam and Ella fell in love with Andy and Brady. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324950624586144978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SeYGYVjznNI/AAAAAAAAARY/RyNIx4PFX9c/s320/Ella+Andy+and+Brady.bmp" border="0" />We also crashed a night or two with the Rosen's, as we are notorious for doing, Ella loves being with "Maddy" and "Miss Shell". And somehow we managed to be treated to dinner almost every night we were in town. We had dinner with Navy friends we served with in Italy, Navy friends of friends from Italy, and even some Coasties. It was a busy week, but such a blessing to see wonderful friends and know that so many have either been in our shoes or are about to be in our shoes and all are praying for Phillip (and the girls and I as well.) God is good.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><br /><div>I recently told a senior officer's wife "I feel like we're in the real Navy now!" Thus far this journey has been so different than most military families. When friends hear Phillip is deployed the immediate reaction is, "why do they need attorneys over there." Well, the long story short is, they do, so he's going. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324951699269365410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SeYHW5EQLqI/AAAAAAAAARo/GT-IzwkZ7D4/s320/Ella+in+her+cover.bmp" border="0" />As crazy as it may seem to some I wouldn't trade this military life for anything. I love it! I love being close to my family more than I can express and would pack my mom and dad with me everywhere I went, if I could, but I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. Don't get me wrong, the next six plus months are going to REALLY STINK but I still wouldn't trade it. It'll just be another check mark on my list of why I'm a Super Hero (as are all military spouses).<br /><div><div></div><br /><div>So anyways, the girls and I dropped Phillip off at NOB in Norfolk, VA on Saturday, April 4 around 6:50am and headed back to MD. We were there long enough for me to take care of some household items as well as wash and repack and then we hit the road for TN last Wednesday. I pulled out of the driveway about 9:15am and we arrived at Uncle Scott's at 7:00pm. It should have taken me just under 7 hours to make the drive. Needless to say with a 3 year old, a 4 month old, a 75lb dog and Murphy the goldfish, it took me a little longer. The girls were great though, hindsight anyways. Daddy and Nana were praying! Only major issue that day was I left my credit card at the Cracker Barrel and had to return to get it. Thankfully I was only a mile down the road when I realized it. That's what I get for texting Phillip to tell him I was eating at the Barrel while he was enjoying an MRE in the training field.<br /></div><br /><div>The girls and I are going to try to stay busy and away from home as much as possible. At least for these first few months anyways. We're headed to Orlando for a few days at the end of the month to visit family and meet up with my parents. Then we'll slowly make our way to Montana with my parents to spend all of May and probably the beginning of June before returning.<br /></div><br /><div>I ask that you keep Phillip in your thoughts and prayers over the next 6 plus months. He and I have a peace about this and felt it was the right choice for us. I'm certain there are some amazing things God is going to teach me along this journey. And I'm hopeful that I come through stronger than when I began.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324952283280563170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SeYH44rX2-I/AAAAAAAAARw/iFzOi1HXX0s/s320/Josie+in+the+grass.bmp" border="0" /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-68269362187075875952009-04-05T11:58:00.003-04:002009-04-05T12:01:14.026-04:00RedirectWell, for those of you who haven't heard, I'm gonna be out of town for a while. And, since I've been so good about keeping this blog up to date, I've decided to start yet another. See what I'm talking about <a href="http://jag-in-the-box.blogspot.com/">here</a>.<br /><br />Keep this site bookmarked though. It's still going, just under slightly new management.<br /><br />- pacPhilliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-57896156002976689602009-02-13T13:00:00.007-05:002009-02-13T13:16:10.372-05:00Faces of EllaI love the many faces of a 3 year old! PRICELESS! Also, a reminder of how much things can change in a matter of 12 months!<br /><br />Enjoy!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3qnktpsI/AAAAAAAAARI/9PM-X100AGA/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3qnktpsI/AAAAAAAAARI/9PM-X100AGA/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302346079103985346" border="0" /></a>Ella's fish face-she has a goldfish named Murphy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3Zhz4aSI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/09jR6kKewHg/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3Zhz4aSI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/09jR6kKewHg/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302345785499216162" border="0" /></a>Ella's Monster face!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3ZfTUuwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/7BFtxasS-M8/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3ZfTUuwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/7BFtxasS-M8/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302345784825789186" border="0" /></a>Silly face<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3ZTHfbLI/AAAAAAAAAQo/uQIAK16hVoc/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW3ZTHfbLI/AAAAAAAAAQo/uQIAK16hVoc/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302345781554932914" border="0" /></a>Surprised face<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2qKLXCgI/AAAAAAAAAQg/bcsm54UZZIk/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2qKLXCgI/AAAAAAAAAQg/bcsm54UZZIk/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344971701389826" border="0" /></a>Pouty face-I know! I know, bless her heart she got that honest!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2p1bv-AI/AAAAAAAAAQY/aeOi2M4KsYs/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2p1bv-AI/AAAAAAAAAQY/aeOi2M4KsYs/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344966132987906" border="0" /></a>Being a goober<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2pvMXZZI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/9Nwdo6roTDE/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2pvMXZZI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/9Nwdo6roTDE/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344964457850258" border="0" /></a>Cuteness!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2T-sTNxI/AAAAAAAAAQI/5tpIJP086QQ/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2T-sTNxI/AAAAAAAAAQI/5tpIJP086QQ/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344590661203730" border="0" /></a>Lovin' that Apple Juice<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2TXJoXGI/AAAAAAAAAQA/83j_QGgOYnw/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2TXJoXGI/AAAAAAAAAQA/83j_QGgOYnw/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344580046806114" border="0" /></a>Samich!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2TCg1YSI/AAAAAAAAAP4/DLHOMLx-CtU/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW2TCg1YSI/AAAAAAAAAP4/DLHOMLx-CtU/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344574506983714" border="0" /></a>Sneaky face!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW1480esgI/AAAAAAAAAPw/WmyDttPpo8M/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW1480esgI/AAAAAAAAAPw/WmyDttPpo8M/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344126302171650" border="0" /></a>Trying to cheese naturally.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW14n_JGTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/-Q4GnTbGSWY/s1600-h/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SZW14n_JGTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/-Q4GnTbGSWY/s320/Ella+and+Kate+Ambrose+Feb+2009+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302344120709749042" border="0" /></a>My girl!Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-30691740626429137652009-01-12T16:03:00.017-05:002009-01-13T17:58:53.709-05:00Growing Girls!<div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QoRcoO-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/bVK9SOZZOl4/s1600-h/DSC_0022.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290903421294492642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QoRcoO-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/bVK9SOZZOl4/s320/DSC_0022.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Well I thought I might take a stab at catching us up on the blog.</div><div></div><div></div><div>Our girls are growing up way too fast. Ella celebrated the big 3 surrounded by her friends at her "Strawbee" Party (aka Strawberry Shortcake). <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0Ooy2Q7zI/AAAAAAAAANY/TZwxeHEH4SE/s1600-h/DSC_0012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290901231237132082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0Ooy2Q7zI/AAAAAAAAANY/TZwxeHEH4SE/s320/DSC_0012.JPG" border="0" /></a>Her mom celebrated her 4th birthday in a similar fashion some 2o plus years ago so it was fun seeing her do the same. Ella had a blast at her "paurty." I've decided I turn into that person my mom became when we my dad would invite 14 billion people over for a dinner party.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0O9erdsJI/AAAAAAAAANg/PNwVXxNuaZY/s1600-h/DSC_0041.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290901586600374418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0O9erdsJI/AAAAAAAAANg/PNwVXxNuaZY/s200/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" /></a> She loved to entertain and was great at it but she became not so fun to be around when the stress of a party was upon her, sorry mom, it's true. Phillip laughs hysterically at me (thankfully not in my face, but I know he's doing it) when I start stressing over people in my house. An inside Golden Retriever that sheds enough hair daily to cover another 70 lb dog is one of the many stresses that plagues me when we have folks over. So, I say all that to say...next year the birthday party will be at the Y!</div><div></div><div>Her Papa insisted on getting her a baby Baby Grand. As you can see...she loves it! It was a hit at the party. Who needs Rock Band when you have a baby baby grand, a Little Tikes drum and a Hawaiian Ukulele??<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QNjnSZDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/H6YbAzFBZVY/s1600-h/DSC_0292.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290902962314568754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QNjnSZDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/H6YbAzFBZVY/s320/DSC_0292.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QNXKsFEI/AAAAAAAAAN4/6EF8EK5fXV8/s1600-h/DSC_0286.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290902958973391938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0QNXKsFEI/AAAAAAAAAN4/6EF8EK5fXV8/s320/DSC_0286.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0cFhfSLJI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/QGBjHzAzo3w/s1600-h/DSC_0104.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290916018444709010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0cFhfSLJI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/QGBjHzAzo3w/s320/DSC_0104.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0ZColX4tI/AAAAAAAAAPA/ivMePLbBIow/s1600-h/DSC_0103.JPG"></a><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><br />She also got a new bike from mommy and daddy! <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0RpCYerJI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bQBTgcBJja8/s1600-h/DSC_0031.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290904533942054034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0RpCYerJI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bQBTgcBJja8/s200/DSC_0031.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0RotRdAdI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/jKFyF0MFyfo/s1600-h/DSC_0021.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290904528275440082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0RotRdAdI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/jKFyF0MFyfo/s200/DSC_0021.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0ZrrFMEkI/AAAAAAAAAPI/XM4z7nCPYA4/s1600-h/DSC_0012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290913375319757378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0ZrrFMEkI/AAAAAAAAAPI/XM4z7nCPYA4/s200/DSC_0012.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0ZrrFMEkI/AAAAAAAAAPI/XM4z7nCPYA4/s1600-h/DSC_0012.JPG"></a></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Josie turns 2 months this week! I can't believe it. The last 2 months have flown by. Ella adores her little sister and affectionately refers to her as "my little peanut." Pretty cute coming from a 3 year old that is talking like she's a 35 year old. The jealousy factor hasn't been as intense as Phillip and I either expected it to be. She loves to hold her but watch out, when she's done, she just lets go, no warning! A little scary!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T8n3-Q1I/AAAAAAAAAOw/p97yCm79zMI/s1600-h/DSC_0023.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290907069447029586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T8n3-Q1I/AAAAAAAAAOw/p97yCm79zMI/s320/DSC_0023.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T8bvlKFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/67wb_pMw4Rk/s1600-h/DSC_0002.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290907066190604370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T8bvlKFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/67wb_pMw4Rk/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T9cHqIII/AAAAAAAAAO4/VpNCgFnUglo/s1600-h/DSC_0028.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290907083471462530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SW0T9cHqIII/AAAAAAAAAO4/VpNCgFnUglo/s320/DSC_0028.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-13882745355206563882008-11-29T16:44:00.006-05:002008-11-29T19:01:17.817-05:007 Days<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274199357905574674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG4X0KOGxI/AAAAAAAAAjc/eJ5KN8k7_N8/s320/DSC_0174+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I typically use this blog as a fun way to talk about things my family and I are doing, where we are, and what’s going on in our lives. I generally try not to inject many personal circumstances or difficulties, mostly because I want the blog to be a fun place for you to come visit, read about us, and come back to in the future. But, for a variety of reasons, this post will be my first exception to that rule.<br /><br />This post is long, and I forgive anyone who has neither the time nor patience to read it. As always, I ramble.<br /><br />As many of you know, on November 15th at 0341, Melissa and I welcomed our daughter, Josie Farah, into the world as the latest addition to the Chockley family. At about 19 inches long and around 7 lbs, she was – and is – a joy. Melissa’s labor and delivery was great, and we were out of the hospital early on the morning of the 16th. Ella was stoked to have a little sister, and showered her with affection. It was one of my great privileges in life to introduce my daughter to her little sister. I talked to my dad on the phone while we were in the hospital and he was overjoyed. When he heard the news, he apparently exclaimed “Bingo!” and told me on the phone that that was what he would call her. All was right in the world.<br /><br />Then, on the way home from picking up Ella at a friend’s house on Sunday night, my brother called to tell me that my dad had been admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. From the way things sounded, he was in a great deal of pain, but a week’s worth of antibiotics and some rest would do wonders. I hung up and slept well that night.<br /><br />Since around 15 August, dad had been suffering from a brain tumor; for those nerds, it was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glioblastoma">glioblastoma multiforme grade IV</a>. In a nutshell, it was bad news – a terminal diagnosis. After debulking the tumor in August, doctors told dad that with radiation and chemo, he would live between 7 and 9 months. He lived 3. The initial surgery took dad from the agile, rambunctious person he always had been, and left him crippled. A week of physical therapy left us with hope dad would walk again, but a staff infection and what we believe was a subsequent stroke permanently left him in a wheelchair. He could briefly stand with assistance to get in the shower, but other than that, the mobile dad I had always known was gone.<br /><br />In many respects, he was mentally the same person he had always been. The hallmarks of his personality remained - fiery temper, keen wit, sarcasm, and above all, a love that was simply unsurpassed. He was visibly sad that he was dying, and wanted to spend as much time with his family as possible.<br /><br />The Navy was accommodating enough to find a job for me in Washington DC, and I moved home in early October. Thanks to that fast action, I was able to spend more than two weeks by my dad at his bedside – weeks that I would never have had – and was able to hold his hand when he passed. Words alone cannot express the gratitude I feel for the U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General’s Corp, the Regional Legal Service Office in Naples, and the staff and National Naval Medical Center Bethesda. If he could, my dad would thank you too.<br /><br />Monday the 17th was a good day. I stayed home, made a long trip to Ikea with Ella, and unpacked the house some more. Contrary to my normal habit of calling dad every evening around 1900, I did not speak to him that day – my wristwatch was set to go off every evening at that time as a reminder. On that night, my stepmom indicated that dad was probably too tired to speak, so I elected to wait. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just passed on the last opportunity to ever speak with my father on the phone. I next heard from my stepmom the following morning.<br /><br />When I spoke to her on Tuesday, it was clear something was wrong. The pneumonia medication was not working, and dad’s breathing was quickly deteriorating. The tumor, it seemed, had spread to the brain stem. She was calling the family in.<br /><br />We had gone through this process before, and dad had pulled through it. I was inclined to stay with Melissa and the new baby until I knew something further.. I hold told dad my goodbyes every time I left, and from the sound of things, he wasn’t waking much. After some prodding by friends and family, I ended up deciding to get on a plane. I’ll always be glad I did.</span> <div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG5YG2rKqI/AAAAAAAAAj0/U1Ywn5kt2R0/s1600-h/Dad+and+Micah+at+High+School+graduation.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274200462435494562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG5YG2rKqI/AAAAAAAAAj0/U1Ywn5kt2R0/s200/Dad+and+Micah+at+High+School+graduation.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG5LTQ7bBI/AAAAAAAAAjs/4CYDybc4-xg/s1600-h/Dad+and+phillip+at+law+school+graduation.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274200242428537874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG5LTQ7bBI/AAAAAAAAAjs/4CYDybc4-xg/s200/Dad+and+phillip+at+law+school+graduation.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">When I arrived in Tennessee around midnight, dad was in bad shape. Over the course of the next 12 hours, he sat up in bed several times. I specifically remember him sitting up in bed at one point – when he woke, he always wanted to sit up, despite his heavy lean to the left. He was heavy enough that I had to crawl completely into bed with him to use my legs and arms to hold him up while still positioning myself in such a way to look at him in the face. On this occasion, he clearly recognized me, knew that I was back from DC, smiled, and said “I love you.” I think it was the last full sentence he ever spoke.<br /><br />Before falling back into another long, deep sleep, he leaned forward for a hug. He lifted his arm as much as he could, clearly waiting for me to wrap it around my neck the rest of the way. He kissed me on the lips and neck about 20 times. He’d done it before; it was as if he was trying to get in all the kisses he should have had if his life was as long as it should have been.<br /><br />My stepmom – a nurse by profession - in her wisdom and grace, decided on Wednesday morning that my dad would not die in a hospital. We unhooked the machines and went home. I rode in the back of the ambulance and held dad’s hand.<br /><br />He woke up at home, and was as stubborn as always, even in his reduced state. From his shrugs and movements, we deciphered that he wanted to sit in his wheel chair, which we helped him into. He was 14 hours from death, but still wanted to sit up and be with us. I will never forget that man’s interminable desire to just “be here.”<br /><br />The next morning, my stepmother woke us to tell us the time was neigh. As a former hospice nurse, she knew the telltale signs. My dad lived 2 more hours. We were with him the whole time, and his passing was very peaceful. I never really knew what that meant until I saw it for myself. It’s still numbing even to type it.<br /><br />It was November 20th, five days after Josie was born. His funeral was two days later, exactly one week after Josie’s arrival.<br /><br />The core of my father remained throughout his illness. Through our visits and discussions those final months, I was able to convey to and learn many things about my father. When the selfishness and pride of independence is taken from you, you learn to depend on people in ways never before imaginable. The depth of love experienced and shown in those circumstances is raw and pure; there is no option but to serve and rely on the ones you love. It peels away all the layers of a persona other than the one that is the most true “you.” I didn’t need that process to know that I loved my dad, but it certainly underscored what I already knew.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG4icLAjvI/AAAAAAAAAjk/TNzXmiGT5Vg/s1600-h/scan0005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274199540444991218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/STG4icLAjvI/AAAAAAAAAjk/TNzXmiGT5Vg/s320/scan0005.jpg" border="0" /></a>My father was my very best friend in the world. He was my hero, and for many years, he was the one person I knew would be there for me when no one else might. Age has added many more people to that list for me, which, in a way, makes his passing a little easier. But he was still always number one on the list.<br /><br />He loved his granddaughters. He and I were both sad that he would not be able to see them grow up, and teach them and love them the way he did his children. This probably hurts me the most. I know all the psychological salves we use to temper this fact (for example “you’ll pass on those things to your children for him,”), but this doesn’t really help me very much. I want my dad here - to teach them himself - and I just can’t get over it.<br /><br />Being away from Tennessee and in DC with a family of my own helps a great deal. Grief would eat me alive if I lived back home. I’m thankful for a God with enough vision to put me in a place in life – both circumstantially and physically - that helps me deal with the loss, and I say a special prayer at night for those in my family that are not blessed with the same luxury.<br /><br />I will remember my dad I think in ways that most children do not. That’s not to say that there’s never been a son closer to his father – my brother was himself equally close to my dad – but it is to say that I’m certain that his memory and my missing him will not soon – or maybe ever – pass. I’m not sure if this says more about our relationship or just him in general. Regardless, I think it’s safe to say that he was just loved more than most.<br /><br />Soon I will erase the chime on my watch that goes off every evening at 1900. My memory of dad is so invasive and deep that a simple dinging wristwatch once a day gives it short-billing. I will erase it. Just not yet. :-)<br /><br />To say that I appreciate everyone’s’ kind sympathies, thoughts, and prayers during the last few days goes without saying. As silly as it sounds, knowing that other people are here, talking with them, and sharing my difficulties reminds me that me that carrying on with this life is the most important tribute I can pay my dad. Josie’s arrival also helps: a cosmic reminder of life’s constant cycles. My thanks go out to Facebook for giving everyone an outlet to reach out to me, and my thanks again to everyone who reached out for the sentiments they posted there.<br /><br />So, as life continues and as years pass, I’m not sure how those 7 days will be remembered. God created this world in 7 days, and he took just as long to turn mine upside down. I pray his plan with the later will play-out with the same precision as the former, and my faith tells me it will. I just wish I knew how.<br /><br />Semper Fi, dad. I love you. You can hug Josie in heaven.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">- pac</span></div></div></div></div></div>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-13008495526117971572008-11-11T00:48:00.008-05:002008-11-11T01:28:21.457-05:00Chapter 3 - Moving Into Leafville<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkjpf1OCuI/AAAAAAAAAjE/vHR7yzGILlc/s1600-h/DSC_0092.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkjpf1OCuI/AAAAAAAAAjE/vHR7yzGILlc/s320/DSC_0092.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267280435012831970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Alright. It's been a while, but what can I say; we've been busy.<br /><br />Rather than relive everything, lets just synopsize. We live in Maryland, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">about 3 miles outside DC. I work at National Naval Medical Center, Bethesda. Melissa's not popped-out the b</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ambi</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">na yet, but will very soon (I'm guessing next week, around the time our household goods are being delivered). She looks like same old little Melissa, except this version appears to have just swallowed a 6 lb watermelon. Whole.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkjbAT5LJI/AAAAAAAAAi8/o3bsietN38c/s1600-h/DSC_0105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkjbAT5LJI/AAAAAAAAAi8/o3bsietN38c/s200/DSC_0105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267280186033384594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Our new house has a lot of nice features. For example: a laundry shoot. We haven't used it for laundry much, (although I keep asking Melissa to let me drop Ella down it), but we've found that you can open it and yell down it to beckon the person in the kitchen. <br /><br />It also has leaves. Lots and lots of leaves. For perspective, when a leaf falls in the forest and no one's looking, apparently it's magically transported to our front yard. And it brings all of its little leaf brothers and sisters. And cousins. And second cousins.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkiyNPmc5I/AAAAAAAAAi0/5wfhdoRIhGA/s1600-h/DSC_0096.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkiyNPmc5I/AAAAAAAAAi0/5wfhdoRIhGA/s200/DSC_0096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267279485130404754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Anyway, there's a lot of leaves here.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />So I bought a leaf blower, and went about doing that which leaves require: blowing. As expected, leaves + leaf blower + [almost] 3 year old = awesomeness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />- pac<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkkN9rXMLI/AAAAAAAAAjM/KIpr8Tx7Ur0/s1600-h/DSC_0147.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SRkkN9rXMLI/AAAAAAAAAjM/KIpr8Tx7Ur0/s320/DSC_0147.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267281061499842738" border="0" /></a>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-11350084110728736922008-09-30T08:58:00.009-04:002008-09-30T10:39:17.965-04:00Ciao.<span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI4sgjFpwI/AAAAAAAAAiI/6eC1GcVozFI/s1600-h/DSC_0007+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251822452769924866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI4sgjFpwI/AAAAAAAAAiI/6eC1GcVozFI/s320/DSC_0007+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a>Well, for those of you who don't know already, next Friday will be our last day as Italian residents. Of course I say "our" in the loosest of terms - Melissa and Ella actually flew home about 3 weeks ago.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">So, as I sit here now, windows and doors open wide, enjoying the brilliant sun and fresh fall breeze blowing in off of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mediterranean</span>, I'm reminded of a time where I had no idea what it would be like to live in a foreign country. Now, it seems, that foreign land has clearly become my home. Like a new friend who slowly becomes an old friend without you noticing, so has been our time in Italy. But no matter how much I'll miss it, the end is coming. As of this time tomorrow, the computer I'm typing on now will be crated-up and inside a box somewhere. Our days in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">bella</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Italia</span> are truly numbered: 9 days "and a wake-up," to be precise.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Our time here has been incredible, and we will look back fondly on it for the rest of our lives. The travel, the friends, the general sense of one-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ness</span> that US citizens here have as we face the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">difficulties</span> of Neapolitan life - we will miss these things immensely. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Of course there are things that I'm sure we <em>won't </em>miss: the driving, the garbage, the rudeness. Oh, and the garbage. We definitely <em>won't</em> miss the garbage.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251822825598788466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI5CNcao3I/AAAAAAAAAiQ/YYq6bbWH7SI/s320/DSC_0061+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">But like always, leaving is bittersweet; a weird mixture of excitement and sadness. There's a part of me that knows I will miss this place more than any other place I will ever live, and another part that knows I will look back on it many times and be glad to not be here anymore. In the end, I'm very grateful for the opportunity to have been here, and I'm satisfied that the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Chockleys</span> took absolutely full advantage of everything Europe had to offer. If we're lucky, it may not be the last time we live here, but I'm certain we'll at least visit many, many more times.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">In many ways our return to the states represents a return to the ordinary; a return to the normal; a return to the ho-hum. For that I'm not so excited. But for Chick-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Fil</span>-A, and Cracker Barrel, and the movies, and the English language...I'm excited. And, at the very least, living in Italy has shown Melissa and I that we can literally move anywhere, anytime, and make a go of it; we'll never say "I could never do that" again.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI5ZIVDbDI/AAAAAAAAAiY/fZecJ6RPZ24/s1600-h/DSC_1010+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823219362720818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI5ZIVDbDI/AAAAAAAAAiY/fZecJ6RPZ24/s200/DSC_1010+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a>Finally, I can't help but think back on a post very similar to this one from a few years ago <a href="http://thechockleys.blogspot.com/2006/09/final-goodbye.html">when we were leaving Norfolk</a>. Our travel here was one of the biggest reasons we started this blog way back then. For those of you who know our current circumstances, the first comment on that post is particularly meaningful to me. It serves as a reminder that in this life we follow our own path, and while we are left to deal with the consequences those decisions bring, those who love us most love us in spite of - and maybe because of - those very choices.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Grazie</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Italia</span>. Lei <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ci</span> ha <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">trattato</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">bene</span>.</span><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823394204238914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SOI5jTqhREI/AAAAAAAAAig/qwbj0uVV8OU/s200/_DSC0041(cropped)+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /> <div><span style="font-family:Verdana;">- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">pac</span></span></div>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-45540250433633225762008-09-02T14:38:00.009-04:002008-09-07T15:14:59.325-04:004th of July in Berlin<div><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm not a huge history buff but after living in Europe for the last 2 years you can quickly come to appreciate the historical events that the United States of America has been a part of over here. We've walked on the mountain where Phillip's grandfather earned a Silver Star during WWII: Mt Lungo here in Italy. Phillip, his dad, and his uncle have had the opportunity to walk the beaches of Salerno, Italy where Phillip's grandfather landed during WWII. Amazing!<br /><br /></span><div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SL2NbgYSBuI/AAAAAAAAANI/KAES_-U0FzY/s1600-h/DSC_0763.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241501045016889058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SL2NbgYSBuI/AAAAAAAAANI/KAES_-U0FzY/s320/DSC_0763.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">So it's strange, I'm sure, to celebrate the 4th of July in Berlin, of all places. But I have to say: it was pretty incredible. An amazing city with so much history! </span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SL2MQ16leQI/AAAAAAAAANA/qmyumPrfC1U/s1600-h/DSC_0762.JPG"></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">On the 4th we perused the streets of Berlin, visited Check Point Charlie, saw a few remaining sections of the Wall, and read so much about the construction and destruction of it as well. That night as we were leaving an INCREDIBLE dinner around 10pm, a firework display began and lasted longer than the firework displays that take place at the Mall in DC. I was amazed. It gives me chills now just thinking about an amazing city that was celebrating <em>our</em> Independence, as if it were out of gratitude.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">The next day we discovered that there was a new US Embassy that had opened in Berlin and the Ambassador was in town. We missed most of the festivites that accompanied the opening of the Embassy, but found out that we had been fortunate enough to view the culmination: the fireworks the night before. We never imagined we would see fireworks this 4th of July, but we were glad we did.</span></div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SMQmkYxfVQI/AAAAAAAAAiA/qSZt5cYM2dg/s1600-h/DSC_0874(smaller).jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243358272733271298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SMQmkYxfVQI/AAAAAAAAAiA/qSZt5cYM2dg/s200/DSC_0874(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Post-script from Phillip: Maybe the coolest thing we did while in Berlin was visit a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soviet_War_Memorial_(Treptower_Park)"><span style="font-family:verdana;">park in East Berlin </span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">erected by the Soviets in the early 50's. Huge marble slabs with Soviet ramblings and Stalin propoganda culminated in a ginormous statue of big Russian cradling a baby, holding a sword, and crushing a swastika under his boot. I was giggling, impressed, and unnerved, all at one time.<br /><br /></span><br />mjc/pac</div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-59341556902462597892008-08-02T07:37:00.009-04:002008-08-02T08:04:33.555-04:00Where We've Been and What We've Seen-Parts 6 and 7<div>Tallinn, Estonia and Copenhagen, Denmark:<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRHxclVlnI/AAAAAAAAAJU/vMpSqLHIcIA/s1600-h/DSC_0359.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229883982095947378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRHxclVlnI/AAAAAAAAAJU/vMpSqLHIcIA/s320/DSC_0359.JPG" border="0" /></a>Tallinn was a cute fairytale of a city. It had such unique architecture but unfortunately for us, shortly after arriving the rains came crashing down on our parade! We tried to hang in there and just deal but it was a cold rain and after awhile this prego was just ready to call it a day. We were just so thankful that the rains held for our 2 days in St. Petersburg. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRJPHwITOI/AAAAAAAAAJc/tMPCGSxMaE0/s1600-h/DSC_0371.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229885591411772642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRJPHwITOI/AAAAAAAAAJc/tMPCGSxMaE0/s320/DSC_0371.JPG" border="0" /></a>Our last port of call on the 14 day voyage was Copenhagen, Denmark! An incredibly fun city. In the heart of the city was an old amusement park called Tivoli Gardens. Needless to say, the kid in all of us came out and we all had a blast. Since we had 2 days in Copenhagen and the sun didn't set until 11:00 at night we played until we couldn't play anymore. Ella got her first glimpse of a trip to Disney World. I'm not sure who had more fun, Phillip, Ella, or Myself.<br /></div><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRJzDhkWyI/AAAAAAAAAJk/xzOaIRaj1U0/s1600-h/DSC_0387.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229886208752245538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRJzDhkWyI/AAAAAAAAAJk/xzOaIRaj1U0/s200/DSC_0387.JPG" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229886823977994274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRKW3a0SCI/AAAAAAAAAJs/WI0t_yvRfCs/s200/DSC_0406.JPG" border="0" /> <a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRLlcf2JfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/pg1I4MGsna8/s1600-h/DSC_0528.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229888173960996338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRLlcf2JfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/pg1I4MGsna8/s200/DSC_0528.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Our second day in Copenhagen we headed out of the city to some of the various castles and had a great time exploring the sites. And it was a great day for photos. <a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRMyv-JBKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/7B5Bezj7_bg/s1600-h/DSC_0575.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229889502038262946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SJRMyv-JBKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/7B5Bezj7_bg/s320/DSC_0575.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-7479904478681297132008-07-21T14:58:00.022-04:002008-07-21T16:27:49.360-04:00Where We've Been and What We've Seen - Parts 5<span style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITrPnIDhnI/AAAAAAAAAgs/9_UdGEdcRsA/s1600-h/DSC_0188.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225560121089951346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITrPnIDhnI/AAAAAAAAAgs/9_UdGEdcRsA/s320/DSC_0188.jpg" border="0" /></a>Alrighty - I'm gonna take back the reigns here and move us a little closer to finishing our cruise bloggin'. The fact of the matter is, this stuff happened a month ago, and since then we've been to Berlin and the French Riviera as well. In other words, there's plenty to blog about, so we'd better get crackin'. Unfortunately that means you'll have to hear from me again rather than my beautiful and eloquent - and increasingly pregnant - wife.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">After Helsinki came the centerpiece of the Scandinavian cruise: St Petersburg. One draw of this cruise is that it lets you visit the city without having a Russian visa; so long as you stay with a tour guide, you can tool around the city all you want - you just can't go off on your own. The upside for us was that we didn't have to visit the Russian embassy in Rome 3 or 4 times to get the visas; the downside is that, well, you're hitched to the tour bus for the whole time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">St Petersburg is an absolutely beautiful city - which, if you think like me, is not exactly something you associate with Russian cities. But as St Petersburgians (St Peterinians? St Peter-ites? St Peterlanders? Not sure there.) are quick to point out, St Petersburg was built to be a European city. In particular, it was modeled by Peter the Great after the canals Amsterdam. Good job, Pete. Because the sun is only out about 40 days a year, there was apparently an early mandate that all buildings be brightly and beautifully adorned - a tradition they cling to today. </span><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225562506190853458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITtacUbFVI/AAAAAAAAAhc/BLKOx6rgzxo/s200/DSC_0304.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">We were there 2 days, which equated to roughly four 4 or 5-hour tours. Not ideal, but still great. For our first block, we elected to throw down some serious cash for a private tour. They basically pulled up in a black, window-tinted Mercedes and gave us the Putin treatment: doors opened, super polite, "you-wish-is-our-demand" type touring. Our guide was Ina, and she was great with Ella; she even taught her the Russian word for bird ("cheyka," I think). In what can only be seen as a holdover from Soviet-era brainwashing, Ella still refers to birds as "cheykas." Strangely she also calls me Comrade Father. But I digress.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITtTnvy0vI/AAAAAAAAAhU/P3lEgutnYsE/s1600-h/DSC_0329.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225562388999361266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITtTnvy0vI/AAAAAAAAAhU/P3lEgutnYsE/s320/DSC_0329.jpg" border="0" /></a>We saw plenty of sights during our time there. The Church of the Spilled Blood is probably the most beautiful church I've ever set foot in (and believe me, having lived here for going-on two years, I've been in a lot of stinkin' churches). I couldn't decide whether the view was more stunning outside (below) or inside (above). We saw lots of other things - Peter & Paul Fortress, the Peterhoff Palace and Gardens, the Hermitage, and some house where Rasputin got whacked. The Rasputin thing came complete with uber-creepy wax mannequins. We also took a wicked-cool canal-cruise. But, rather than bore you [more] with details, just check the pics, and be sure to try to make it to St Petersburg before you go to meet the real St. Peter. It really was the cornerstone of our cruise experience.</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225561390885056146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITsZhezLpI/AAAAAAAAAhA/2URw_vNElrA/s320/DSC_0207.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:Verdana;">PS - For those of you who are still reading (.05%, I'm guessing), you may be wondering whether I ran into any Soviet-era coolness. The answer is surprisingly "no," which I admit was a bit disappointing. At least for the locations we visited, they've pretty much erased all evidence of the USSR. My disappointment was offset a bit when one guide explained to me that everywhere in the city where I saw a two-headed eagle (the Royal emblem, which was pretty much everywhere), there once stood a hammer and sickle. That was cool, mostly because everywhere I turned there was a double-headed eagle. Literally, hundreds of them on every fence post on a block. At first disbelieving that the "new" Russia would have gone about replacing every single soviet emblem, I reapproached her, only to have her emphatically reiterate that, indeed, the new government had painstakingly removed all hammers and sickles and replaced them with the eagle. I thought that was awesome.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225561877820086194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SITs13dKF7I/AAAAAAAAAhI/aWFj4l3EwOg/s200/DSC_0291.jpg" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">One guide still referred to the city as "Leningrad," as if he were still in denial over the whole thing. I chuckled, then tipped him $5 so he could feed his little baby commies at home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">pac</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-49625085383704928432008-07-16T15:20:00.007-04:002008-07-16T15:59:49.274-04:00XX<span style="font-family:verdana;">That poor Y chromosome. It has once again been <a href="http://www.paternityangel.com/Articles_zone/How_it_happens/How-4.htm">beat out </a>by the likes of X. Mean ole' X (pictured).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223702326094686450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SH5RltdBaPI/AAAAAAAAAgk/rUbRvvOHVSk/s320/125px-Chromosome_X.svg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Despite widespread predictions</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, the second Chockley rugrat will be...a girl. OMG! Another girl!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">And so, for the first time since dad, Roy, and Stephen were kids, the phrase "the Chockley girls" will be heard once again. Thankfully, it won't embarrass these girls' parents when they wear dresses and dance with boys.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">pac</span>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-15979399990491584752008-07-14T14:54:00.019-04:002008-07-15T11:47:48.270-04:00Part 4-Helsinki<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222953479755011362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHuohHcwFSI/AAAAAAAAAIc/872MmTgnqUI/s320/DSC_0131.JPG" border="0" /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHuo4I5ApGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/E9WO-ImWi1k/s1600-h/DSC_0136.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222953875278963810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHuo4I5ApGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/E9WO-ImWi1k/s320/DSC_0136.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Port of Call #4 was Helsinki, Finland. It was an interesting day for a port call in Helsinki because it was a National Holiday and everything closed at 1pm and I do mean EVERYTHING. To make matters worse, we didn't arrive in port until 10am so there wasn't much time. I think I mentioned that we don't do museums with a 2 year-old so we usually wander the streets, look at unique architecture, churches and duomos, watch people and shop. There were several unique churches in Helsinki one of which was called the "Rock Church." Rightly so since it was carved out of a large boulder. <a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHukg3XbpEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/JO84FaA7B18/s1600-h/DSC_0145.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222949077391221826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHukg3XbpEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/JO84FaA7B18/s200/DSC_0145.JPG" border="0" /></a>Beautiful inside!<br /><br />My favorite European thing to do is to go to an open air market and the one in the center of Helsinki was fantastic. I just loved to wander through all the beautiful produce and find unique veggies and fruits I've never seen before.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222949632253002082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHulBKYygWI/AAAAAAAAAH8/xtUDYdgSEzA/s320/DSC_0122.JPG" border="0" /> I love fresh cherries and for some reason on the ship we only had melon, oranges, apples, and bananas. There were no strawberries or cherries to be found. Well, needless to say I couldn't pass these up and Ella discovered a new love...."cheewies" <a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHulfNWidWI/AAAAAAAAAIE/4gD6YtpUHBY/s1600-h/DSC_0125.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222950148444943714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHulfNWidWI/AAAAAAAAAIE/4gD6YtpUHBY/s320/DSC_0125.JPG" border="0" /></a>She was stained red but it was adorable to watch her eat them. She would take a bite then hand it to me to remove the pit and give it back to her to finish. She ate all but about 10 of the "cheewies" I purchased.<br /><br />Regardless of the National Holiday we had a blast just cruising the streets of Helsinki. It was as if we had the entire city to ourselves!<br /><br />Next Stop...St. Petersburg, Russia<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHunOtT7GpI/AAAAAAAAAIU/-EorBhy9jZ4/s1600-h/DSC_0136.JPG"></a>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-72359174075223230142008-07-13T11:00:00.006-04:002008-07-13T11:46:54.734-04:00Where We've Been and What We've Seen-Part 3<div><div><div>Following our day in Germany we had a day at sea to just enjoy life on the boat before hitting some major ports of call. Because the average age on the boat was over 65 there was a lot of Bingo playing. Phillip and I played a couple of times and I had no idea there were so many versions of Bingo. It was pretty <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hilarious</span> to watch and play, needless to say we didn't win but it was something to do.<br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHofjp53_dI/AAAAAAAAAHM/M053TwWsqIc/s1600-h/DSC_0092.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222521415293992402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHofjp53_dI/AAAAAAAAAHM/M053TwWsqIc/s320/DSC_0092.JPG" border="0" /></a>Nevertheless, we were really excited about moving on to our next port of call-Stockholm, Sweden. We signed up for some excursion which was a walking tour of the city and included the Royal Palace. This tour again wasn't all that special and when we arrived at the Royal Palace they told us no strollers allowed. Oh, okay, so you would rather take a perfectly happy 2.5 year old that's confined to an environment she's happy with and instead make her walk through a museum where exhibits are wide open and or make her father and pregnant mother take turns carrying her for the next hour. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">UMMM</span>, NO! <a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHog0awel9I/AAAAAAAAAHc/LmCwzEKPICY/s1600-h/DSC_0100.JPG"></a>Plus they wouldn't let us leave the stroller in their care. We could leave it outside the palace and hope that it's still there when we're done. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">UMMM</span>, NO! So, at that point this particular <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Chockley</span> was over the tour excursions and as a result asked the head <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Chockley</span> to please cancel some of the other port of call excursions. We <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Chockley's</span> travel best on our own anyways. So, except for St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Petersburg</span> where the Russian government requires that you travel in a tour group or have an individual visa, we opted out of most all of the other tours. </div><div></div><br /><div>So, we left the Palace rather dumbfounded and a bit perturbed and made the most of the rest of <a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHogIDRHppI/AAAAAAAAAHU/-uIuEudeeZA/s1600-h/DSC_0096.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222522040577664658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHogIDRHppI/AAAAAAAAAHU/-uIuEudeeZA/s320/DSC_0096.JPG" border="0" /></a>our day in Stockholm. Swedish people are hands down the most beautiful people I've ever seen. Man, woman or child they are beautiful! Sweden is also one of the most expensive countries we've traveled in thus far. I was astounded once I started doing the math! If you know me well you know that ever since I was a little girl I've collected spoons. My dad traveled a good bit when I was growing up and I think it was an inexpensive item to pick up for me so the tradition has continued. Well, in the states as you travel about you can pay anywhere from $2.50-$7.00 for a collectors spoon given how nice it is. Pewter ones are my favorites and tend to run a little higher. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Anywho</span>, I bought a regular old spoon from Sweden with nothing but the flag on it and it cost me a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">whopping</span> $18.00!!! HOLY COW! Needless to say we didn't lend much <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Chockley</span> money to the Swedish Economy.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222524035888328562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHoh8MYQL3I/AAAAAAAAAHk/8UQwm3tVHTk/s320/DSC_0108.JPG" border="0" /> I'm thankful to have seen it and unless the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Chockley's</span> strike gold I don't know that we'll return. A friend of mine was in Norway at the same time and then traveled to Sweden and she mentioned things in Sweden were almost half price what they were in Norway. HOLY COW again! I could have paid $30 for a $2.50 item in the states! Can you tell I have an Econ degree or am I just cheap?</div><br /><div></div><div>Stay tuned for Port of Call #4, Helsinki, Finland! BEAUTIFUL!</div></div></div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-43842007659057125232008-07-10T14:24:00.005-04:002008-07-10T14:43:50.463-04:00Warnemunde, Germany<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHZWKKaj3cI/AAAAAAAAAG0/nWklvdUMx-s/s1600-h/DSC_0077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221455550577106370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHZWKKaj3cI/AAAAAAAAAG0/nWklvdUMx-s/s200/DSC_0077.JPG" border="0" /></a>Our second port of call was on the coast of Germany, former East Germany, in a fishing community called Warnemunde. From this town you had the option to take a train into Berlin which was a 3 hour train ride and the tickets cost more than it would cost the Chockley's to fly from Naples, Italy directly to Berlin. CRAZY! So, since so many of our friends highly recommended Berlin we wanted to reserve it for a longer trip than just a day. Therefore, we opted to tool around the fishing village and let Ella run around. We went on a walking tour to which the only thing I can actually remember of significance was that this village has the oldest Lime tree in all of Germany. <a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHZWyYVArMI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Bqsg6pvqE64/s1600-h/DSC_0079.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221456241506692290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHZWyYVArMI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Bqsg6pvqE64/s200/DSC_0079.JPG" border="0" /></a>It is over 200 years old and huge considering it's a lime tree. It looked more like an oak tree. Ok, so enough about the tree. We also attended an organ concert in a beautiful church. Phillip tried to enjoy the wine tasting portion of the tour but for some reason you can't really boast about German wine when you live in Italy. It was a relaxing port of call and helped us gear up for the coming days of non stop ports. We were eager to press on.Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-44681774007921689772008-07-06T15:34:00.005-04:002008-07-09T11:52:24.176-04:00Where We've Been and What We've Seen-Part1<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTcplxU2LI/AAAAAAAAAGc/3VDxI-dXL9s/s1600-h/DSC_0067.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221040475100993714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTcplxU2LI/AAAAAAAAAGc/3VDxI-dXL9s/s400/DSC_0067.JPG" border="0" /></a> I know it's been a while so let us try to catch you up. On June 14, The Chockley's set sail on the Celebrity Cruise ship Constellation out of Harwich, England on a 14 day Scandinavian Baltic Sea Cruise. Phillip and I want to tell you a little about each of our ports of call so I'll begin with our first stop, Amsterdam. If you are an avid reader of the Chockley Blog then you know a little over a year ago we spent several days in Amsterdam so it was nice to return and wrap up the 2 items we missed the first go round, bicycling in the city and Vondelpark. Yes, I know I can't believe I agreed to ride bikes at 4 months pregnant. <a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTdNGHnApI/AAAAAAAAAGk/hrids03K0RI/s1600-h/DSC_0074.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221041085079814802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTdNGHnApI/AAAAAAAAAGk/hrids03K0RI/s320/DSC_0074.JPG" border="0" /></a>At the time it was a blast but afterwards I felt silly for even considering the notion. But I couldn't say no since it was the one thing Phillip really regretted not doing on our first trip. We had a blast! Ella loved it and apparently it was as exhausting to her as it was to me!<br /><br /><div><div>I wish I had a Euro coin for every time a Western asks..."so how is it to travel with a little one?" I have a million smart alec responses but I usually just smile and say "we don't know any different, we travel alot." Phillip and I learned early on in our European adventures that we have to make time for Ella regardless of the city or locale. This is where the parks usually play into the agenda and museums are a definite no-go, which is a great excuse for me since I honestly couldn't care less, except of course when it came to the Louvre in Paris. A small bottle of bubbles, some Teddy Grahams and a juice cup and Ella Brooke is in Heaven regardless of what country she's in. <a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTd9En66XI/AAAAAAAAAGs/j4_wmY1TiRM/s1600-h/DSC_0063.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221041909312186738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Uc_i8zTSBCw/SHTd9En66XI/AAAAAAAAAGs/j4_wmY1TiRM/s200/DSC_0063.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Continue to tune in as we chronicle our journey through the Baltic Sea. I know Phillip is far more exciting than myself but he is so busy at work that I'm not sure when he'll have a moment to sit and write again. Until then you'll have to endure my poor attempt at writing.<br /></div><br /><div>P.S. be sure and check back on July 16 for the revelation of Chockley #2's gender (provided he or she is cooperative of course.)</div><br /><div> </div></div>Melhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05020309789118132003noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-30716822295809087252008-05-26T14:45:00.011-04:002008-05-26T18:17:41.876-04:00"Have ya sum fish n' chips aver thar lad, at the poob."<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsP-1thC7I/AAAAAAAAAgc/PNc9ms_ReRA/s1600-h/DSC_0042+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204771366601034674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsP-1thC7I/AAAAAAAAAgc/PNc9ms_ReRA/s320/DSC_0042+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ah, Ireland. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Land of the green. Realm of the pint. Home of the fish...and "chips."</span><br /><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Chockleys</span> spent Memorial Day weekend this year in Shamrocks-ville. Despite a forecast calling for 4-days of showers, we had nothing but sunshine. That was welcome news to Melissa, who was already nervous enough at my staunch insistence on renting a car (..."but honey, I've wanted to do this all my life..."). Its kinda like rubbing your belly and patting your head at the same time, except you're inside a 2,000 lbs Fiat speeding down the wrong side of the highway at 120km p/h.</span> </div><div><br /> </div></div><div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsPKFthC5I/AAAAAAAAAgM/bWHL4o9YnpQ/s1600-h/DSC_0056+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204770460362935186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsPKFthC5I/AAAAAAAAAgM/bWHL4o9YnpQ/s200/DSC_0056+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsOylthC3I/AAAAAAAAAf8/QApc9hl8GOY/s1600-h/DSC_0028+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204770056636009330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsOylthC3I/AAAAAAAAAf8/QApc9hl8GOY/s200/DSC_0028+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204770297154177922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsPAlthC4I/AAAAAAAAAgE/cPkhXtxOhsg/s200/DSC_0029+(smaller).jpg" border="0" />Anyway, we kicked off the weekend by driving southwest to a little countryside town called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kilkenny"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kilkenny</span></a>. Everyone told us that no trip to Ireland would be complete without a little trip outside Dublin, and they were right. It was good to see how some real Irish live, listen to some old guys speak <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gaelic</span>, and take in a great little city. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsOF1thC2I/AAAAAAAAAf0/LB3TTKTHnuk/s1600-h/DSC_0087+(smaller).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204769287836863330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsOF1thC2I/AAAAAAAAAf0/LB3TTKTHnuk/s320/DSC_0087+(smaller).jpg" border="0" /></a>On day two, we drove back into Dublin to meet some friends who were flying in from Rota. We spent Saturday and Sunday touring around, frequenting pubs and mostly people-watching. We saw most of the highlights - St. Stephen's Green, Christ Church, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and the Book of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kells</span> - but the highlight for me was the Guinness Storehouse - very cool. Your admission ticket entitles you to a free Guinness at the 7th-floor "Gravity Bar" - and the view isn't too shabby either.</span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">pac</span> </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span> </div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204770666521365410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDsPWFthC6I/AAAAAAAAAgU/N4-dI-GhG_M/s320/DSC_0065+(cropped).jpg" border="0" /> </div></div></div>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-11189042415416200252008-05-21T14:26:00.005-04:002008-05-21T14:39:50.802-04:00You may be having turkey for Thanksgiving...<div><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">But my wife will be having something else...</span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202902573098636050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SDRsUvaCkxI/AAAAAAAAAfk/iy2Hi2vImX0/s320/Hi+dad!!!.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;">- pac</span></div></div></div>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-90237761464446358752008-05-05T12:52:00.030-04:002008-05-10T07:38:28.468-04:00Grease!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWD95y9PRI/AAAAAAAAAec/gjbxipUXAV8/s1600-h/Phillip&Brenna+Rehearsal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198706444378914066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWD95y9PRI/AAAAAAAAAec/gjbxipUXAV8/s320/Phillip%26Brenna+Rehearsal.jpg" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Alright. One word can describe why my blogging has been sucky for the past few months, and that word is "Grease." Better said, "'Grease' is the word."</span><br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I admit it. For the past 4 months I've been moonlighting in a local <a href="http://www.nctpresents.com/main.html">community theater</a> production of the musical Grease. Let the gay jokes begin.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWD-Zy9PTI/AAAAAAAAAes/EtwJ3bZRvCM/s1600-h/dress+rehearsal+group.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198706452968848690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWD-Zy9PTI/AAAAAAAAAes/EtwJ3bZRvCM/s320/dress+rehearsal+group.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Despite all the hell I've been given - and believe me, there's been plenty of it - I've really enjoyed being a part of the community theater machine. Our last theatrical performance was last weekend in a downtown Naples theater. We felt big-time. It was great. And of the 7 shows we had, all but one were sold out, meaning we sold around 1400 tickets at $10 a piece! I thought that was pretty good.</span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></p></span><p> </p><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><p>I played "Doody," one of the goofy T-birds in Danny's gang. Our biggest number (well, at least the T-Birds </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">biggest number) was, of course, "Greased Lightnin'."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWEZpy9PUI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Q0tK9boJqY8/s1600-h/Big+finish!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198706921120283970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWEZpy9PUI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Q0tK9boJqY8/s200/Big+finish!.jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198707475171065186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWE55y9PWI/AAAAAAAAAfE/kM_dS5ayoeI/s320/Greased+Lightnin.jpg" border="0" />It was fun while it lasted, but, well, lets just say I'm glad we're done. Since late January we've practiced four weeknights per week and for 4 hours every Saturday. It really began to wear on us in the end. Leaving work at 1730 just to go practice til 1930, then rush to get home to kiss Ella goodnight just wasn't cutting it. It also killed our travel schedule; we've not been anywhere beyond Florence since March...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWEZpy9PVI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Uj9mwBGVZ2M/s1600-h/backstage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198706921120283986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWEZpy9PVI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Uj9mwBGVZ2M/s200/backstage.jpg" border="0" /></a>In the end, the productions were awesome, and so were the people. As you can tell from the pics, the cast and audience were both Italian and American. Our last performance in downtown Naples drew a huge local national crowd, which was particularly fun for us. Who knows whether they understood a word of what we said...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I've always said that being a trial lawyer is little more than being a stage actor, and being a part of Grease only strengthened that belief. Maybe I'll bust into a little "Greased Lightnin'" the next time I'm in front of the jury...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Or not.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">- pac</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198708128006094194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HistMOkQftQ/SCWFf5y9PXI/AAAAAAAAAfM/qD-CuvYpZ8E/s200/a+coke+or+sumthin.jpg" border="0" />For those of you with nothing to do with your time who might like to peruse about a billion photographs of our performances and rehearsals, click <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kekuewa/collections/72157603757694083/">here</a>. If you search hard enough you might even find a few shots of me in one of my patented knee-slide-pelvic-thrust dance moves. The dance for this thing was more than I expected, but I think we did pretty well with it.</span></p>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29968868.post-33607504378199958222008-04-11T17:16:00.002-04:002008-04-11T17:50:09.364-04:00...and then there were none.<span style="font-family:verdana;">Today we bid farewell to our good friends the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sosbees</span>, the last in a long line of friends who were here when we arrived, but are now gone. Their departure is sobering for a variety of reasons, most of which are frankly too sad to type. Suffice it to say that the face of the JO wardroom in Naples will never be the same, and we have closed a chapter in our life that we will always look back on as one of the best written.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Perhaps the most difficult part of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sosbees'</span> move is that they took their son Ben with them. For the past 18 months, rarely has a week gone by without the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Chockleys</span> and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sosbees</span> spending an evening together; 2 or 3 evenings per week is more often the case. Ella and Ben are best friends in every sense of the word. Born three months apart, they both wake up and go to bed asking for one another. Our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">feeble</span> efforts to explain how "B," as she calls him, has gone "bye bye," is the functional equivalent of explaining the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaos_theory">chaos theory</a> to a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">chimpanzee</span>.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I put this little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">picto</span>-video together to look back on the "B & EB" experience. Please ignore the fact that the song by Nada Surf is actually entitled "Bad Best Friend" - these two were anything but bad together.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MV0RTggXD1I" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Goodbye, Josh, Gretchen, and B. We'll think of you often.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pac</span></span>Philliphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256570764228952113noreply@blogger.com3