<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821</id><updated>2011-09-27T12:13:37.031-07:00</updated><category term='Pictures'/><category term='Birth'/><category term='Growing Up'/><category term='Picture Post'/><category term='Home'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Names'/><title type='text'>I Reminisce</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-5341532558247783599</id><published>2010-08-19T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T12:31:06.036-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Names'/><title type='text'>Tell Any Other Nickname in Your Family</title><content type='html'>Wow, this could take ALL day.  Nicknames are like drugs in our family!  Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peyton:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Honey Bear (everyone in our immediate family has a bear name; I'm Little Bear)&lt;br /&gt;- Hungry Bear (this is used interchangably with "Honey Bear" around meal times; I kind of growl it when I say it!)&lt;br /&gt;- Sweetie&lt;br /&gt;- Sweet&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;ie&lt;br /&gt;- Sweetie Kabottoms&lt;br /&gt;- Sweetie Von Sweetsenburg (everyone needs a German pet name)&lt;br /&gt;- EnviroSweetie (regarding his passion for helping the Earth)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ann Peyton:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Annie&lt;br /&gt;- Annie Banani&lt;br /&gt;- AP&lt;br /&gt;- Baby Bear  (for awhile, we named everyone in our immediate family "(something) bear"; see above)&lt;br /&gt;- Baby Bird (my dad came up with this one)&lt;br /&gt;- Babykins&lt;br /&gt;- BunBun&lt;br /&gt;- Itty Bitty/Bitty Baby (Peyton's techs used to call her Itty Bitty (or any variation like "Itsy Bitsy") and when she was born we held her up to my sisters American Girl Doll Bitty Baby and she was littler than it.  Whenever I refer to newborn Ann Peyton I call her my Bitty Baby (e.g. "I love my growing girl, but I miss my Bitty Baby"))&lt;br /&gt;- The Annie Baby/An Annie Baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Grandparent Names:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom = Minnie&lt;br /&gt;my dad = Mickey&lt;br /&gt;Peyton's mom = DeDe&lt;br /&gt;Peyton's dad = Grandpa Randy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Other:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My sister (whose real name is Ann Whitten) basically goes by "Cookie" within our family&lt;br /&gt;- Peyton calls his youngest brother, Joseph, "Joser"&lt;br /&gt;- My maternal grandmother, who I was SUPER close to chose "Bump" as her grandmother name.  Her own daddy used to call her that when she was a little girl, because she'd run by and bump  his leg when he had them crossed reading the newspaper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-5341532558247783599?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/5341532558247783599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/tell-any-other-nickname-in-your-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5341532558247783599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5341532558247783599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/tell-any-other-nickname-in-your-family.html' title='Tell Any Other Nickname in Your Family'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-4034518564028681824</id><published>2010-08-17T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T13:12:44.054-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Names'/><title type='text'>Tell a Nickname Your Family Gave You and How You Got It</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I guess I'm supposed to limit this to nicknames that family members gave me, so there are really only four:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Punky&lt;/span&gt;- My dad called me this when I was an itty bitty baby.  He told my mom he wanted to write a book about their life with me after waiting for a baby for five years and they book would called Orbiting Punky (espsially clever regarding his interest in and love of Space).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doodie&lt;/span&gt;- I used to be SO embarassed by this one.  My parents started calling me this because I was so active and was always busy "doing", i.e. getting into stuff.  They neither one associated the fact that it can have a "poopie" conotation as well.  I really didn't fully get over it until I met my best friend in college who actually did call her aunt "Poopie".  Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sarah D.&lt;/span&gt;- My sister used to call me this because "Sarah Denley" is kind of hard when you are first learning to talk.  Interestingly, several of my friends in college ended up calling me Sarah D. as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Honey Bunch&lt;/span&gt;- this was what my grandmother, Bump, called me and Cookie.  It was a term of affection that I just loved and love to this day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-4034518564028681824?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/4034518564028681824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/tell-nickname-your-family-gave-you-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4034518564028681824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4034518564028681824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/tell-nickname-your-family-gave-you-and.html' title='Tell a Nickname Your Family Gave You and How You Got It'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-7355034830428229067</id><published>2010-08-16T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T19:37:46.874-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Growing Up'/><title type='text'>Name Every Place You've Lived and About Your Time There</title><content type='html'>I have lived in Mississippi, specifically in the Jackson Metro area, for the entirety of my twenty five years.  A lot of people might think Mississippi is the most boring place on Earth, and truth be told, in some ways it is.  But I LOVE it here.  It is where everything and (&lt;a href="http://www.ourhappilyeverafters.com/"&gt;just&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://inthewarmholdofyourlovingmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-which-we-say-good-bye-see-ya-later.html"&gt;about&lt;/a&gt;) everyone important to me is.  I have wonderful memories of growing up in Jackson- my years at Saint Andrews and Prep, fun times going to the mall or to the movies with friends, and frequenting all the fabulous eateries (ha!) in the Jackson area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the breakdown of each place I lived:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;0-15 Years Old&lt;/span&gt;:  My family lived on Meadowbrook Road, on the side that is now considered "dangerous".  Tragically, the area has really gone down.  I actually recently wrote about this house on my &lt;a href="http://inthewarmholdofyourlovingmind.blogspot.com/"&gt;personal blog&lt;/a&gt;.  Here's the excerpt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-fufrASI/AAAAAAAAFE8/4BFX0at8Kog/s1600/Meadowbrook+House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-fufrASI/AAAAAAAAFE8/4BFX0at8Kog/s320/Meadowbrook+House.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[my childhood home]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I loved the house I grew up in. I lived there from the time I was two until I was fifteen. The house fit my mom's personality so well and it was so me, too. It was built in the 1950s and it was painted white with dark green shutters. The front yard had trees, boxwoods, and lots of big, beautiful caladiums. There was a huge white gate in the middle of the driveway, separating the front yard from the back, which was great because we lived on a very busy road (Meadowbrook&lt;/span&gt; Road).    &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The backyard mostly consisted of a large boxwood garden. It was so beautiful and Cookie and I loved playing on the brick maze that surrounded it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-eSOxsqI/AAAAAAAAFEk/uM8CicCFR6M/s1600/Circus+Birthday+Party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-eSOxsqI/AAAAAAAAFEk/uM8CicCFR6M/s320/Circus+Birthday+Party.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The backyard also had a carport as well as a garage that had been turned into a workroom. My dad used it as his workroom and for storage, but he also took an existing structure that was made for holding lumber and made it into a "playhouse" for us. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-fShIOZI/AAAAAAAAFE0/h5TU3pa49lQ/s1600/Me+and+Cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-fShIOZI/AAAAAAAAFE0/h5TU3pa49lQ/s320/Me+and+Cookie.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There was also a sideyard that included a muscadine arbor (half the area under the arbor was cemented and was perfect for hopscotch and half was a little "garden" of sorts with odd shaped stones and a swing- perfect in the cool of the day). The sideyard also housed our playset, zipline, tire swing, and a garden in which my mom grew mint and lamb's ear in. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGhCujFHiJI/AAAAAAAAFFE/YtSMwciFYQw/s1600/Meadowbrook+House+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGhCujFHiJI/AAAAAAAAFFE/YtSMwciFYQw/s320/Meadowbrook+House+%282%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The house was beautiful and had tons of neat features like lazy susans that were built into the kitchen cabinets and a wonderful little room that my parents made into a warm cozy study. My room had a neat chest of drawers actually built into the closet and the area on top was just large enough for me to sit with a few of my dolls and a little snack. It. was. perfect. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is I've already lived in my dream house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15-18 Years Old&lt;/span&gt;:  My family moved to the house my parents live in now.  It was actually my grandparents house and when they moved to a retirement community, they gave it to my parents, as my dad is their &lt;a href="http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/01/your-fathers-birth.html"&gt;only son&lt;/a&gt;.  Dad was so excited because my mom had her dream house and this one was his.  It is a beautiful, really unique house and it really does have one of the best views on the entire Reservoir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwfprJ-DI/AAAAAAAAFGE/9iU2Zg1A7Bg/s1600/DSC00456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwfprJ-DI/AAAAAAAAFGE/9iU2Zg1A7Bg/s320/DSC00456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506196445990615090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;{Summer}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwgWWT57I/AAAAAAAAFGM/9dFqCobcjZI/s1600/DSC00617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwgWWT57I/AAAAAAAAFGM/9dFqCobcjZI/s320/DSC00617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506196457982781362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;{Winter}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwgo8U6bI/AAAAAAAAFGU/fC7yRu7n4Hk/s1600/Perry+House_20100212_004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwgo8U6bI/AAAAAAAAFGU/fC7yRu7n4Hk/s320/Perry+House_20100212_004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506196462974069170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;my old bedroom that my mom has now turned into a guest room/man cave for my dad to enjoy- this was his room when my grandparents built the house, but he only got to enjoy it during summers, because they built while he was in college at Ole Miss&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18-22 Years Old&lt;/span&gt;: I moved into the dorms at Mississippi College in Clinton, Mississippi (about thirty minutes from my parents' house).  I had some of the best days of my life in this room and I met some very special people at MC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwhXEbOOI/AAAAAAAAFGk/TDJsm-zgmN0/s1600/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwhXEbOOI/AAAAAAAAFGk/TDJsm-zgmN0/s320/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506196475356068066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwhA0-DTI/AAAAAAAAFGc/7MibImYvXlQ/s1600/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGnwhA0-DTI/AAAAAAAAFGc/7MibImYvXlQ/s320/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506196469385661746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes, I painted those ceiling tiles.  I'm super artistic.  Ahem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny8Y95gJI/AAAAAAAAFGs/bD1JTW_vPOU/s1600/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+160.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny8Y95gJI/AAAAAAAAFGs/bD1JTW_vPOU/s320/SD%27s+Pics+%28as+of+jul+1,+2008%29+160.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506199138745286802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22-25 Years Old&lt;/span&gt;:  After our wedding, I moved into the house that Peyton and I picked out together when we were just dating.  It will always be very, very special to me because it was our first home, and I associate so many other firsts with it, as well, most notably bringing our first child home to this house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny83nRPnI/AAAAAAAAFG0/kDj-61fiY9o/s1600/Kitchen_20090502_008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny83nRPnI/AAAAAAAAFG0/kDj-61fiY9o/s320/Kitchen_20090502_008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506199146971872882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny9bTEWDI/AAAAAAAAFG8/POlgBFYF-50/s1600/Living+Room_20090508_002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny9bTEWDI/AAAAAAAAFG8/POlgBFYF-50/s320/Living+Room_20090508_002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506199156550817842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We've made a few upgrades since this time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny9snU9TI/AAAAAAAAFHE/9uUZUDJHmZY/s1600/New+Sofa_20100726_003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny9snU9TI/AAAAAAAAFHE/9uUZUDJHmZY/s320/New+Sofa_20100726_003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506199161199195442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny90Dr2XI/AAAAAAAAFHM/TF7BG_0-NCo/s1600/Yard_20090702_005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGny90Dr2XI/AAAAAAAAFHM/TF7BG_0-NCo/s320/Yard_20090702_005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506199163197184370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGn04fXAKHI/AAAAAAAAFHU/wK8kA_snAnE/s1600/Ann+Peyton_20090404_001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGn04fXAKHI/AAAAAAAAFHU/wK8kA_snAnE/s320/Ann+Peyton_20090404_001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506201270764972146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We'll see where we end up next, but my best &lt;a href="http://inthewarmholdofyourlovingmind.blogspot.com/2009/08/paint-town.html"&gt;guess&lt;/a&gt; is it won't be anywhere close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-7355034830428229067?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/7355034830428229067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/name-every-place-youve-lived-and-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7355034830428229067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7355034830428229067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/08/name-every-place-youve-lived-and-about.html' title='Name Every Place You&apos;ve Lived and About Your Time There'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/TGg-fufrASI/AAAAAAAAFE8/4BFX0at8Kog/s72-c/Meadowbrook+House.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-6195692250067620931</id><published>2010-02-17T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T21:32:06.143-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What Does Your Mother Do For a Living?</title><content type='html'>My mom was an education major in college.  She went to Ole Miss, but moved to Huntsville with my dad before her graduation so he could &lt;a href="http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-does-your-father-do-for-living.html"&gt;work for the Space Program&lt;/a&gt;.  She turned down being the president of her sorority to marry my dad and move with him to Alabama.  I'm sure it was a tough one, but I think she made the right decision.  After they moved to Jackson she finished up her education and got her degree from Bellhaven.  She really never felt confident in a classroom, so she tutored and then worked retail for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left the work force for a couple of decades to be a stay at home mom.  She now works part time in the Bridal Registry at &lt;a href="http://www.battefurniture.com/HOME/tabid/36/Default.aspx"&gt;Batte Furniture&lt;/a&gt;.  I'm pretty sure that making sure that the ignorant young brides of today know what a Demitasse cup is unequivocally her calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a lot of "mommy blogs".  Full of surprises, aren't I?  Some of these blogs are really positive and it feels like the person writing them never has a bad day.  I hate that.  Just Kidding.  Kind of.  Anyway, some of them are very, very real.  Sometimes, I feel like in an effort to "keep it real"(something I strive for on my blog), these women fill every post with complaints.  And a lot of it is complaints about child rearing.  I hear it in real life, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These moms lament the boring nature of staying home with a child full time.  They complain about the tedious "work" of playing with a toddler.  They bemoan the fact that they have limited adult interaction.  And they jokingly say they despise Sesame Street characters.  They are "too cool for school".  Or rather, they are too cool for their children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't say I've never had those feelings.  I won't even say that I've never blogged about them.  But it is not where I find myself most days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think that is due, in large part, to my own mother and her attitude toward raising my sister and me.  My mom did not work a day outside the home from the day I came home from the hospital until the day my sister graduated high school.  But I think that if someone ever made a BonBon reference* about her to me, I'd have to work hard to resist punching them in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[*You know.....the typical stereotype of the stay at home mom sitting on the couch eating BonBons and watching Oprah as her children play quietly in another room.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, my mom did not watch a single talk show, soap opera, or morning show during our entire childhood.  I do think she watched some television in the evenings with my dad, but ask her much of anything related to pop culture during the late eighties and early nineties and unless it's child related, she pretty much has no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she was simply too busy.  She and my dad waited *ten* years to even began to try to have children, because once she had us she wanted to devote herself fully to our care.  And that she did.  She spent &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hours&lt;/span&gt; playing "Mother, May I?" in the backyard with us.    She made every single activity, like going to the grocery store or getting ready for bed, a fun adventure.  She hardly ever lost patience with my endless questions and my ridiculous anxieties.  She read an unbelievable amount of literature to us.  She threw the most fantastic birthday parties.  She totally immersed herself in mothering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is not the impressive part.  The impressive part is that she took such joy in every moment of it.  Of course, I am sure that those aforementioned mommies do not often tell their children how boring and uninteresting they are.  But,  there's a thing called a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;vibe&lt;/span&gt; and there's no telling how much of it they are picking up on.  I asked my mom about it when Ann Peyton was born.  She said honestly she really did enjoy us that much.  I think part of it has to do with how much &lt;a href="http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/do-you-know-any-other-circumstances-of.html"&gt;she and my dad struggled&lt;/a&gt; to have us once they decided to start trying and part of it is just her nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that some women are more suited to the tasks of spending their day with a small child than others and there is nothing wrong with that; different parents "click" with their children at different ages.  I am also fully aware that this type of "child centered" parenting is not without it's faults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is not the point of this post.  The point is to say that my mom did her "job" wonderfully.  Beautifully.  Seemingly effortlessly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my inspiration in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQdYn7_8I/AAAAAAAAC5w/DYy_xhQESfw/s1600-h/Me+and+Momma+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQdYn7_8I/AAAAAAAAC5w/DYy_xhQESfw/s320/Me+and+Momma+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439451653201461186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQdOJ0ZqI/AAAAAAAAC5o/E1z1gLIGM5k/s1600-h/Me+and+Momma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQdOJ0ZqI/AAAAAAAAC5o/E1z1gLIGM5k/s320/Me+and+Momma.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439451650390779554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQcjAHt7I/AAAAAAAAC5Y/gX23_yaJGnw/s1600-h/Me,+Momma,+and+Cookie+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQcjAHt7I/AAAAAAAAC5Y/gX23_yaJGnw/s320/Me,+Momma,+and+Cookie+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439451638807377842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQc5dtfgI/AAAAAAAAC5g/XGEZTafQlgM/s1600-h/Me,+Momma,+and+Cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQc5dtfgI/AAAAAAAAC5g/XGEZTafQlgM/s320/Me,+Momma,+and+Cookie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439451644837068290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-6195692250067620931?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/6195692250067620931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-does-your-mother-do-for-living.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/6195692250067620931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/6195692250067620931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-does-your-mother-do-for-living.html' title='What Does Your Mother Do For a Living?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S3zQdYn7_8I/AAAAAAAAC5w/DYy_xhQESfw/s72-c/Me+and+Momma+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-3546605934929521268</id><published>2010-02-01T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T19:57:45.117-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What Does Your Father Do for a Living?</title><content type='html'>My dad is an engineer. He has had three jobs over the course of his career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was at Ole Miss he took an aptitude test that said he should be a doctor, but he is pretty squeamish, so he decided to go with the second recommendation which was engineering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;brilliant &lt;/span&gt;and I don't just say that because he is my dad. After he graduated from Old Miss, he went directly to work for the Space Program.  He has always been very fascinated with astronomy (he built his own telescope), so he was very excited when he was chosen for a job at Boeing Aerospace in Huntsville, Alabama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1SI8zo7I/AAAAAAAACu4/uKiLAnss6dE/s1600-h/SD%27s+First+Birthday+Party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1SI8zo7I/AAAAAAAACu4/uKiLAnss6dE/s320/SD%27s+First+Birthday+Party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433440429946414002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1SU-Qt0I/AAAAAAAACvA/hnodV_A4mZQ/s1600-h/SD%27s+Space+Birthday+Party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1SU-Qt0I/AAAAAAAACvA/hnodV_A4mZQ/s320/SD%27s+Space+Birthday+Party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433440433173739330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The telescope that Daddy built- the second picture is from an Outer Space themed birthday party I had one year! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He actually worked on the design team for the Apollo 13 mission to the moon.  He and his group worked on the Lunar Rover, which is the space craft that the astronauts were to use once they got on the moon.  My parents have the plans hanging in the master bathroom at their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d5QB1E_-I/AAAAAAAACvY/bof6nY80ugE/s1600-h/Lunar+Plans_20100129_003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d5QB1E_-I/AAAAAAAACvY/bof6nY80ugE/s320/Lunar+Plans_20100129_003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433444791721721826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d5PuD2nBI/AAAAAAAACvQ/GNMqdJQg8Rg/s1600-h/Lunar+Plans_20100129_002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d5PuD2nBI/AAAAAAAACvQ/GNMqdJQg8Rg/s320/Lunar+Plans_20100129_002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433444786414984210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He is very humble about it, but he has some amazing stories if you know to ask him.  For example, when problems occurred due to explosion causing a decreased oxygen suppy.  The astronauts ended up circling the moon and coming straight home.  During that time (about three days) my dad and his coworkers sat at their desks twenty four hours a day and were instructed to be prepared to answer a phone call from the lowest NASA technician "up to, and including, the President of the United States". He was younger than I am now.  I cannot imagine the pressure.  He said that everyone was praying for the astronaut's safe return, but secretly he was also praying he would not get a call from the president!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After working at Boeing for awhile, my mom and dad wanted to move back to Mississippi.  My Dad joined a National Guard unit to avoid going to Vietnam and he wanted to get in one in Mississippi.    So, Daddy took a job with Mississippi Valley Gas Company.  He worked there for over twenty five years and really worked his way up almost to the very top of the company.   I remember visiting him at his office and going on to conventions in Destin with all his associates.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1RvP1z-I/AAAAAAAACuo/zlPPCIKlODA/s1600-h/Daddy+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1RvP1z-I/AAAAAAAACuo/zlPPCIKlODA/s320/Daddy+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433440423046926306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1R8MIy3I/AAAAAAAACuw/_mpss9n15OY/s1600-h/Perry+Family+Pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1R8MIy3I/AAAAAAAACuw/_mpss9n15OY/s320/Perry+Family+Pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433440426521054066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2egOBORF7I/AAAAAAAACvg/QKB6ndBh4-o/s1600-h/Daddy+%283%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2egOBORF7I/AAAAAAAACvg/QKB6ndBh4-o/s320/Daddy+%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433487638152681394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About ten years ago, the company was bought out and the new company filled his position with one of their own people.  He got a nice severance package though, and so he was able to do what he had been wanting to do for year- start his own business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his fifties and nearing retirement age for most people, my Dad seized the opportunity and became a true entrepreneur.   The business he and his partner (who had also worked for the Gas Company) formed is a computer business called Enduser.  Daddy has a team of techs and they service the computers of several businesses and doctor's offices in Jackson.  In fact, in 2004, when Hurricane Katrina hit, Enduser was in charge of all the computers in the FEMA building in Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of my dad- from his early days as a "rocket man" to these last few years, when he had the courage to take a risk and start his own business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-3546605934929521268?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/3546605934929521268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-does-your-father-do-for-living.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/3546605934929521268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/3546605934929521268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-does-your-father-do-for-living.html' title='What Does Your Father Do for a Living?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d1SI8zo7I/AAAAAAAACu4/uKiLAnss6dE/s72-c/SD%27s+First+Birthday+Party.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-7524943755785863566</id><published>2010-02-01T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T16:41:44.106-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Your Father's Birth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I asked my dad about his birth and he knew nothing of it; he said his generation just didn't ask that kind of questions.  He likes to say that Peyton and I (and our generation) do a lot of "navel gazing" (meaning analyzing things and asking lots of questions).  Anyway, he told me that if I really wanted to know I should call Grandee (my grandmother, his mom) at the Waterford (her retirement home) and ask her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little unsure about it because 1) she has a really hard time hearing and 2) she really can't remember most of what happened to her yesterday.  She'll tell you that herself.  It's the kind of thing like she's been asking me since Ann Peyton was six weeks old if she sleeps through the night.  She asks me EVERY time she sees me and each time she asks at least three times, at about ten minute intervals.  It doesn't really bother me; I just tell her the same thing every time- "She sleeps beautifully.  She has since she was a month old".  So, I wasn't sure about beleiveing my Dad that she would have lots to tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I am so glad I went ahead and called her!  Her long term memory DEFINITELY makes up for her short term.  She was full of details!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy was born on October 13, 1947 here in Jackson, MS.  He weighed around 7.5 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice fall day and Grandee's parents had come down to Jackson from North Mississippi to wait for their grandson's birth.  Grandee went to the bathroom and knew it was "time".  Papa (my grandfather) was at work and so they called him and he met them at the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they got to the hospital there was a black man running the elevator (only Grandee called him a "colored man") and when they told him to take them to her doctor's floor he said "Oh no sir, I am taking you to the THIRD floor" (which was, of course, where the babies were born).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandee was in labor for about three hours.  Not bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Daddy was born, she said she hated it when they took him away from her to take him to the nursery.  Papa wrote a letter to his parents describing how beautiful and how perfect he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandee said she stayed in the hospital about four days and when they first brought her a bowl of water to wash her face she said "Oh no, I can't do this [wash her face after being in labor for three hours], you are going to have to do this for me".  I found this hysterical, because to this day, Grandee is a bit of a "damsel in distress".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandee told me that she tried to nurse but got an absessed  breast when she got home from the hospital (I was surprised she went into all that with me).  So Papa had to go buy bottles and then bring them home and sterilize them.  She said "I thought Rob was going to starve before we got those bottles here"- she's a bit of a drama queen; I guess I come by it honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also said that when Daddy was a newborn, Papa would change his sheets in the bassinet by their bed at night (in those days the mother did not get out of bed for a week).  She said it scared her to death because he would just pick up Newborn Daddy, put him on his shoulder, and change the sheets while balancing him there.  He never dropped him, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing she told me was the most important.  I finally got up the nerve to ask her- "Did y'all decide after Daddy was born to just have one or did y'all know all along?".  [I had asked my Dad before and he said he never asked.  That's when he made the "navel gazing" comment.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me that they "would have loved two or three more", but they weren't able to have any more.  I don't know if something happened during the delivery or if there were fertility issues and my Dad was a miracle baby or what, but wow!  We had all always thought they only wanted one, so I was very shocked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also told me she had a bunch of stuff, including Papa's letter to his parents and Daddy's birth certificate that she was about to throw in the "wastepaper basket", but I told her PLEASE not to.  I am SO glad I called!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d0kiyPgVI/AAAAAAAACuY/Pr6klN5hFbE/s1600-h/Daddy+and+Papa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d0kiyPgVI/AAAAAAAACuY/Pr6klN5hFbE/s320/Daddy+and+Papa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433439646607442258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Look at his little foot!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-7524943755785863566?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/7524943755785863566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/01/your-fathers-birth.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7524943755785863566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7524943755785863566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/01/your-fathers-birth.html' title='Your Father&apos;s Birth'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2d0kiyPgVI/AAAAAAAACuY/Pr6klN5hFbE/s72-c/Daddy+and+Papa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-4065515425164559189</id><published>2010-02-01T16:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T16:39:28.974-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Your Mother's Birth</title><content type='html'>My mom was born on November 11, 1949 in Oxford, Mississippi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;The only thing she "remembers" about the events sorrounding that day is that her brother, Allen (who was around 18 months old at the time) told everyone he had a "sister baby" instead of a baby sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2dzyPx_8uI/AAAAAAAACuQ/PYf9dKnwwY4/s1600-h/Momma+and+Bump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2dzyPx_8uI/AAAAAAAACuQ/PYf9dKnwwY4/s320/Momma+and+Bump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433438782512689890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-4065515425164559189?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/4065515425164559189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/your-mothers-birth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4065515425164559189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4065515425164559189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/your-mothers-birth.html' title='Your Mother&apos;s Birth'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S2dzyPx_8uI/AAAAAAAACuQ/PYf9dKnwwY4/s72-c/Momma+and+Bump.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-5571106670606550023</id><published>2010-02-01T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T16:39:15.094-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What Is Your Mother's Full Name?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My mom's full name is Sarah Ann Jackson Perry.  My great great grandmother, my grandmother, Momma, and me all share the name "Sarah". However, she is the first in a (hopefully) long line of double names.    She is affectionantly known as Minnie these days.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-5571106670606550023?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/5571106670606550023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-is-your-mothers-full-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5571106670606550023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5571106670606550023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-is-your-mothers-full-name.html' title='What Is Your Mother&apos;s Full Name?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-1750884866290513582</id><published>2010-01-28T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T16:40:20.050-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What Is Your Father's Full Name?</title><content type='html'>My father's full name is Robert Euel Perry, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was obviously named for his own father.  He goes by "Rob".  My grandfather went by "Bob".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Euel&lt;/span&gt; is pronounced like "yuletide" or the way Yul Brynner from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The King and I&lt;/span&gt; pronounced his name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-1750884866290513582?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/1750884866290513582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-is-your-fathers-full-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/1750884866290513582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/1750884866290513582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-is-your-fathers-full-name.html' title='What Is Your Father&apos;s Full Name?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-6737181987516084055</id><published>2009-12-19T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T19:18:12.292-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Name Your Siblings and Years of Birth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1Y_aCb9NI/AAAAAAAACPE/iLB_7adp6rs/s1600-h/Cookie+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1Y_aCb9NI/AAAAAAAACPE/iLB_7adp6rs/s320/Cookie+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417083773141120210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have one sibling, a sister.  Her name is Ann Whitten Perry.  Ann Peyton is named for her.    We actually call her "Cookie", though.  It was her nickname since birth and it stuck.  My Dad said her face was as round as a little cookie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1aWfcns4I/AAAAAAAACPU/4mezXretbg0/s1600-h/Cookie+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1aWfcns4I/AAAAAAAACPU/4mezXretbg0/s320/Cookie+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417085269241738114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was born on July 21, 1987.  We are twenty six months apart and she has always been (and will always be) my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy2WUEwNDrI/AAAAAAAACP8/cuqLAqE6ilI/s1600-h/Me+and+Cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy2WUEwNDrI/AAAAAAAACP8/cuqLAqE6ilI/s320/Me+and+Cookie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417151198414048946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1Y_kNADJI/AAAAAAAACPM/e4Z8uaf8wVM/s1600-h/916.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1Y_kNADJI/AAAAAAAACPM/e4Z8uaf8wVM/s320/916.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417083775869783186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-6737181987516084055?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/6737181987516084055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/name-your-siblings-and-years-of-birth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/6737181987516084055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/6737181987516084055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/name-your-siblings-and-years-of-birth.html' title='Name Your Siblings and Years of Birth'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1Y_aCb9NI/AAAAAAAACPE/iLB_7adp6rs/s72-c/Cookie+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-4701970341790562029</id><published>2009-12-19T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T19:16:35.999-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture Post'/><title type='text'>Share a Childhood Picture</title><content type='html'>This is my first Christmas.  I was a month younger than my own baby, Ann Peyton, is now.  I feel like I looked SO much bigger than her, though!  I was a chunk for part of my life, I guess!  Also, I think my Mom (who I will henceforth refer to by her grandmother name, "Minnie") looks like she is channeling &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000212/"&gt;Meg&lt;/a&gt; from her &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When Harry Met Sally &lt;/span&gt;days, from the top of her poofy hair to the tip of her plaid skirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1bCtOlbeI/AAAAAAAACPc/00zLYbpW-mo/s1600-h/My+First+Christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1bCtOlbeI/AAAAAAAACPc/00zLYbpW-mo/s320/My+First+Christmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417086028855209442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1bC9cmOsI/AAAAAAAACPk/IXgQlo5J-Wo/s1600-h/Ann+Peyton_20091210_007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1bC9cmOsI/AAAAAAAACPk/IXgQlo5J-Wo/s320/Ann+Peyton_20091210_007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417086033208949442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://recollectionsandmemories.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ashley&lt;/a&gt;, whose whole idea this project was, said that it makes for a lot of great conversations with your family and I have to agree.  It also makes for a lot of great scanning opportunities!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-4701970341790562029?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/4701970341790562029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/share-childhood-picture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4701970341790562029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/4701970341790562029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/share-childhood-picture.html' title='Share a Childhood Picture'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1bCtOlbeI/AAAAAAAACPc/00zLYbpW-mo/s72-c/My+First+Christmas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-7095862584231664003</id><published>2009-12-19T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T19:08:26.807-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birth'/><title type='text'>Do You Know Any Other Circumstances of Your Birth?</title><content type='html'>(who was present, who delivered, etc.)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom really adored her doctor, although he didn't have the best bedside manner (he was really old school).   About a year before he had been the on call physician when she had a still birth.  She had also had multiple miscarriages and the new doctor (who "happened" to be on call) helped her figure out what was causing them and really examined what her former doctor had dismissed.  So, he was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad wasn't in the room.  She said it really wasn't a big deal back then, but she is SO modest, I don't think she'd want him in the room if it was today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One really funny thing, she has told me several times is that as they were "wheeling her back" to have me, she saw the tv on and said "Darn (or some variation) I'm going to miss Johnny Carson tonight".  Ha, I like to think I was worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The earliest pictures of me are when I was already home.  My mom says newborns are just not pretty (I mean I was to her, of course) and that she didn't want to take any until they got home.  I really didn't think we'd take pictures of Ann Peyton RIGHT after her birth, either (I knew we'd take them in the hospital, just after she was clean).  But the nurses told Peyton to grab his camera, and he minded them!  I'm glad we have those pictures, now, but I wouldn't want to show them off to anybody else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1b9BD3-9I/AAAAAAAACPs/AC7385cs8j4/s1600-h/Newborn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1b9BD3-9I/AAAAAAAACPs/AC7385cs8j4/s320/Newborn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417087030611409874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-7095862584231664003?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/7095862584231664003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/do-you-know-any-other-circumstances-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7095862584231664003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7095862584231664003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/do-you-know-any-other-circumstances-of.html' title='Do You Know Any Other Circumstances of Your Birth?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/Sy1b9BD3-9I/AAAAAAAACPs/AC7385cs8j4/s72-c/Newborn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-7447520502081048635</id><published>2009-12-14T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T17:44:48.917-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birth'/><title type='text'>Where Were You Born?</title><content type='html'>I was born at Mississippi Baptist Medical Center.   Woman's Hospital had just opened and was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; place to be.  It was where all the cool Mommas were having their babies.  But....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad, being a wee bit of a Northeast Jackson snob, would not hear of having his first child born in backwards, redneck Rankin county.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of, course the irony is that I now reside in Rankin county.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The further irony is that his beautiful capital city is, in many corners, becoming more and more ghetto-fied, daily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-7447520502081048635?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/7447520502081048635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/where-were-you-born.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7447520502081048635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/7447520502081048635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/where-were-you-born.html' title='Where Were You Born?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6674758350529489821.post-5592828201470455603</id><published>2009-12-10T22:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T22:32:12.615-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birth'/><title type='text'>What Was Your Day and Date of Birth?</title><content type='html'>I was born on Tuesday, May 14, 1985. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a lot has gone on on the 14th, historically.  Just a couple of interesting events:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1607" title="1607"&gt;1607&lt;/a&gt; – &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamestown,_Virginia" title="Jamestown, Virginia"&gt;Jamestown, Virginia&lt;/a&gt; is settled as an English colony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1939" title="1939"&gt;1939&lt;/a&gt; – &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lina_Medina" title="Lina Medina"&gt;Lina Medina&lt;/a&gt; becomes the world's youngest confirmed &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother" title="Mother"&gt;mother&lt;/a&gt; in medical history at the age of five (how completely bizarre; guess it puts a new perspective on being a "young mom", huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the best of my knowledge, no one super important was born OR died on my b-day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6674758350529489821-5592828201470455603?l=sdremembers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/feeds/5592828201470455603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-was-your-day-and-date-of-birth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5592828201470455603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6674758350529489821/posts/default/5592828201470455603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sdremembers.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-was-your-day-and-date-of-birth.html' title='What Was Your Day and Date of Birth?'/><author><name>Sarah Denley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01232657048056927095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nNDs7aghcJo/S0g2wFXNHhI/AAAAAAAACh4/eWKwRTXKL9g/S220/Charleston_20090711_008_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
