<?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-8047004584659665943</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:27:54.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>notesfromthegreenhouse</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-7310473737477227389</id><published>2007-10-02T16:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T16:24:10.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People work with me</title><content type='html'>Two years ago this month we bought a new pellet stove we had nothing but trouble with the stove.  Can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; how many times we had to have the repair man out.  Finally, just before the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;warranty&lt;/span&gt; ended the repair man said it couldn't be fixed and to tell the store we wanted a new stove.  So we did.  We got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Qudra&lt;/span&gt; Fire (made in the USA).  Worked really great for month or two.  Then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;igniter&lt;/span&gt; stopped working.  We called the repair man.  He came out we explained what we were noticing, from the error message on the display screen, that was beside the fact that it wouldn't start.  He went to work took it all apart put it back together and it wouldn't start.  Error message, failed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ignition&lt;/span&gt;.  Puzzled he said, I think the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ingniter&lt;/span&gt; is burned out I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; had to replace one a new stove before.  After that it seemed to work fine.  Then Summer came and we didn't use it.  Now its Fall and cooler so we thought we would crank that baby up.  Error message, failed ignition.  We took it apart and cleaned the stove &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;really well&lt;/span&gt;, still an error message.  So we called the repair man.  He said the stove had been updated and he would bring the up grades as soon as they came from the factory.  He came today with a big box of parts.  Put them on and tried to start it.  Error message. failed ignition.  He said I think the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ingniter&lt;/span&gt; is burned out, so I'll have to go to Coastal and pick one up.  You do that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-7310473737477227389?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7310473737477227389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=7310473737477227389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/7310473737477227389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/7310473737477227389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/10/people-work-with-me.html' title='People work with me'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-3004356693863673944</id><published>2007-09-29T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T15:55:34.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Measure 37 update</title><content type='html'>Had a letter from the Marion County Public Works office.  Said they received a request from the Planning Committee regarding my partition application.  The letter had findings that said I was under the jurisdiction of the Oregon Department Of Transportation (ODOT) and would need to contact them regarding putting in a new driveway and listed contact and a number to call.  So I called the number.  The guy said I would need to submit an application requesting permission for a new driveway.  I said we were going to use the existing driveway.  He said oh okay, he'll look for the permit on record.  I said, oh well you won't find one, since we didn't ask permission in 1971.  So he is going to send me an application.  What next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-3004356693863673944?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3004356693863673944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=3004356693863673944' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/3004356693863673944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/3004356693863673944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/09/measure-37-update.html' title='Measure 37 update'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-3536535009782585285</id><published>2007-09-29T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T15:47:37.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adenddum to safety pins and scott tape</title><content type='html'>When I came home after my training, when I was changing my clothes I found a pair of pants that I already had that I liked better.  Story of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-3536535009782585285?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3536535009782585285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=3536535009782585285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/3536535009782585285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/3536535009782585285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/09/adenddum-to-safety-pins-and-scott-tape.html' title='Adenddum to safety pins and scott tape'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-574620732196011861</id><published>2007-08-17T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T23:01:39.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>scotch tape and safety pins</title><content type='html'>I had to give a provider training in Albany last Friday.  I needed something to wear, but I had been very busy and didn't start looking for something until Thursday.  I went to the company stores.  I found some slacks, top and a jacket.  I wondered if the pants were too short, I asked the clerk if she thought the pants were too short, of course she said no they were just right.  So I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to get them.  Then I started looking for shoes.  I thought that since the pants were on the shorter side I needed shoes without heels.  I found a pair at one store, bought them, but wasn't a hundred percent sure about them.  Went to another store and found the shoes that I wanted, so I took the first pair back. Went home tried on the outfit, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; that the pants were too short and I didn't like the top.  I had 1/2 hour till closing, so off I went.  I traded the pants and top for different ones.  Now the pants are too long.  I ran to the shoe store returned the second pair and got ones with heals.  I still had to work on my presentation.  So worked on that til 12:00AM.  I thought I better tack my pant legs up and go to bed.  Do you think I could find a needle.  Of course not, so you guessed it scotch tape and safety pins.  Talk about working under pressure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-574620732196011861?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/574620732196011861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=574620732196011861' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/574620732196011861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/574620732196011861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/08/scotch-tape-and-safety-pins.html' title='scotch tape and safety pins'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-2287353372464096660</id><published>2007-08-01T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T20:56:06.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A black hole</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my sister's 41st wedding anniversary.  I knew that she could very well be having a very bad day.  I told everyone that had talked with her that it was her anniversary and that she was probably not having a good day.  However, I forgot to tell one very important person, I forgot to talk to her about her day.  It seemed that I was in a black hole, which paled in comparison to the black hole that she must have been in, I couldn't seem to dig my way out.  I don't imagine that even the test of time will repair the hurt.  I hope that she realizes that it was not intentional.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-2287353372464096660?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2287353372464096660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=2287353372464096660' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/2287353372464096660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/2287353372464096660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/08/black-hole.html' title='A black hole'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-6199915592890971984</id><published>2007-07-10T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T11:38:30.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes math is a challenge</title><content type='html'>It would seem that I was unable to subtract 1974 from 2007 correctly.  My daughter is actually 33.  That was to get her back from when she was a little girl when people would ask her how old her mother was, she would say 50.  Of course that was much before I was actually 50.  Now I just long for those days (of being 50, as 60 is only days away).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-6199915592890971984?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6199915592890971984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=6199915592890971984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6199915592890971984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6199915592890971984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/07/sometimes-math-is-challenge.html' title='Sometimes math is a challenge'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-7437218234811826064</id><published>2007-07-05T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T16:42:00.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The stork visited</title><content type='html'>I heard a lot of commotion to day and noticed momma robin bobbing along the ground.  I looked up in the rafters and saw two little mouths open waiting for the yummy worm momma robin had in her mouth.  It is so warm today I hope the new arrivals won't get too warm.  I'm sure the warmth of the green house hastened delivery.  There sure were a lot of butterflies and lady bugs out today enjoying the flowers.  I don't think that I have seen as many in other years.  Its fun to watch.  Just three more days and Kari and Maddie will be here to visit.  Saturday is Kari's birthday.  I can't believe my little baby girl is going to be 34.  &lt;strong&gt;Three days good grief what am I sitting here for I'll never get my house cleaned in Three days!!!!  Any volunteers?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-7437218234811826064?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7437218234811826064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=7437218234811826064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/7437218234811826064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/7437218234811826064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/07/stork-visited.html' title='The stork visited'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-5726828106309557655</id><published>2007-06-29T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T22:42:18.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruising the gut</title><content type='html'>My sister and I had so much fun cruising the gut, as it were, when we were in high school.  We would go south on Winter Street in Salem then turn and go North on Capital Street and turn in at Bob's 19 cent hamburger's.  It was the greatest.  Course there was the time that we went to town to spend our berry money.  We stopped at the original GI Joe's to get tennis shoes.  They had them in a bag no less.  When I got home I had one size 7 and one size 10.  It was still a great day.  As we were coming out of town, my sister was driving our brother's 51 chevy two door hard top.  She ran a red light and some one on the side street yelled where did you get your driver's license in a cracker jack box.  We laughed and laughed.  When my kids were first driving age the police pretty much had put stop to cruising.  If you pass by more than twice in a certain area of Salem on Friday or Saturday night they would ticket you.  What a drag.  I think that my kids may have developmentally challenged in some way because they were not able to complete that growing up experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-5726828106309557655?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5726828106309557655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=5726828106309557655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/5726828106309557655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/5726828106309557655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/06/cruising-gut.html' title='Cruising the gut'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-4379878614101366755</id><published>2007-06-24T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T22:32:31.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>966</title><content type='html'>A comment my sister made about pleasant memories reminded me of when we were young we would ride our horses down by the river and then let them eat grass while we swam.  We just assumed that they would stay there and eat, but of course they did.  We picked berries for all the neighbors when our berries were in between pickings.  One neighbor's brother worked for the OSU agriculture department.  He developed new varieties of berries and our neighbor would raise and test them.  While they were being tested, they would be assigned a number.  One of our favorite berries were the 966's, now known as marions.  Remember the old ford truck.  In it's former life it was a beer van.  My dad converted into a flat bed truck to use on the farm.  One day my mom and dad went visiting.  My sister and I stayed home with our brother.  We weren't supposed to go anywhere while our parents were gone, but we were hungry for bananas.  I think in those days they were 10 pounds for a dollar, but that dollar was hard to come by.  Our brother drove us to town to the local fruit stand.  When we got  back, in an attempt to remove all traces of us leaving home we decided the best thing to do was to wash down the drive way so our parents wouldn't see the truck tire tracks.  I wonder if they ever knew what we did.  We were so bad. I'm sure the degree of naughtiness pales in comparison to some of the things my kids have done that I will never know about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-4379878614101366755?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4379878614101366755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=4379878614101366755' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/4379878614101366755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/4379878614101366755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/06/966.html' title='966'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-2836249257655859123</id><published>2007-06-23T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T22:57:15.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a great day!</title><content type='html'>Usually I like to sleep in a little on Saturday mornings, but today I had to get up early to take my husband to the airport.  He went to visit his family in Idaho.  He hasn't flown much by himself so he is pretty insecure.  As we approached the terminal I asked him if he wanted me to park and go in with him or just dump him out at departing flight area.  I had to go in.  That was OK.  After that I spent most if the day watering and fertilizing flowers.  Most of my customers just wanted to look, many said, oh there is just too much to choose from.  Several really nice people came today and they just wanted to visit.  So as we talked we walked out to one of my cherry trees and ate Cherry's and visited, it was really quite nice.  Then as the day ended I made a quick trip to margaretaville and shared some more great conversation with my best friend.  What a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-2836249257655859123?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2836249257655859123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=2836249257655859123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/2836249257655859123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/2836249257655859123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-great-day.html' title='What a great day!'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-6936785043640280026</id><published>2007-06-08T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T22:26:29.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scents from the past</title><content type='html'>Today while at work I went in to the bathroom and noticed that someone left some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vaseline&lt;/span&gt; hand lotion for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; use.  After I washed my hands I put on some lotion.  The scent immediately took me back almost 10 years to when I was working at the hospital.  Oh what an unpleasant experience.  For three years while I was at nurses training, my roommate used white rain hair spray and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;breck&lt;/span&gt; shampoo, to this day nearly 39 years later, that scent takes me back to those days.  When I was a freshman, my room was across the street from the back of the hospital.  Every day I would see the pathologist(the person that performed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;autopsies&lt;/span&gt;) going to and from the hospital carrying his lunch pail.  As a student nurse I wondered how he was able to eat lunch considering what his job was.  Come to think about it, I wonder how I was able to eat after some of the things I had to do as a student nurse and as a registered nurse.  Only trouble was it affected me just the opposite, I couldn't stop eating and gained a lot of weight.  Only to be made worse by the fact that as student nurses we had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mandatory&lt;/span&gt; weigh in by the fifth of each month.  If we didn't we would lose our weekend passes.  That was one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had.  Believe me that is only the tip of the ice berg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-6936785043640280026?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6936785043640280026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=6936785043640280026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6936785043640280026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6936785043640280026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/06/scents-from-past.html' title='Scents from the past'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-6638258772855739048</id><published>2007-05-27T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T22:49:49.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom always said that pink and red do not go together.</title><content type='html'>My husband and I have an ongoing conversation regarding what plants should be put together, IE, same growth habits, sun, shade, and complimentary colors. I was wondering if my husband was color blind, because he was putting red and pink flowers together, which was like finger nails on the blackboard to me. He also liked to put in flowers that I think are just too tall for a hanging basket. For example he liked to put heliotrope in the middle and tailing petunias on the outside. Again, finger nails on the blackboard. My son said Mom who would buy that basket with that tall weed growing in the middle? I said I didn't think it would sell. He over heard me and my daughter in law discussing one of his red and pink baskets, when he said that he thought pink and red was pretty together. I said, it was just that Mom always said that red and pink do not go together. Well, I had to eat my words today, because, not only did a customer buy the one with the big weed in the middle, she also bought the red and pink one. Maybe he's on to something, what do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-6638258772855739048?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6638258772855739048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=6638258772855739048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6638258772855739048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6638258772855739048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/05/mom-always-said-that-pink-and-red-do.html' title='Mom always said that pink and red do not go together.'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-6797917486820714431</id><published>2007-05-22T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T20:27:22.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How comfortable is your zucchini?</title><content type='html'>My grand daughter had a water day at her school, all the kids wear their swimming suits to school (she's almost 5).  She out grew her old suit, so her mom bought her a two piece suit.  My grand daughter was quite excited about the new suit.  She said "mommy I can't wait to wear my zucchini to school tomorrow".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-6797917486820714431?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6797917486820714431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=6797917486820714431' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6797917486820714431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/6797917486820714431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-comfortable-is-your-zucchini.html' title='How comfortable is your zucchini?'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-4903086034476070392</id><published>2007-05-22T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T20:21:04.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you seen my glove?</title><content type='html'>Today was a wonderful day, the sun was shining off and on, it was just great.  I was planting this afternoon when my sister came over,  As I was walking towards her I pulled off one of my gloves, then we started talking and wondering through the greenhouse.  As we started to go outside I noticed that I had just one glove in my hand, I said well what did I do with my glove, oh! its still on my hand.  Man I have a hard time keeping track of them.  I should put a long string on them hook them together and run them through my sleeves like mittens.  Maybe I could keep track of them that way.  What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-4903086034476070392?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4903086034476070392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=4903086034476070392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/4903086034476070392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/4903086034476070392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/05/have-you-seen-my-glove.html' title='Have you seen my glove?'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-1253913052228508414</id><published>2007-05-19T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T21:50:42.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is not a flea market</title><content type='html'>One of my customers came today driving a new Jag and she wanted to haggle.  I just can't believe it.  It seems that because I'm in the country people have the expectation that everything will be cheaper and they can haggle.  It's quite annoying.  That's it for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-1253913052228508414?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1253913052228508414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=1253913052228508414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/1253913052228508414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/1253913052228508414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-is-not-flea-market.html' title='This is not a flea market'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8047004584659665943.post-9102271849023971897</id><published>2007-05-18T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T22:56:17.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not enough hours in the day</title><content type='html'>A loyal customer returned her patio pots last Sunday for me to replant and said that she would like to pick them up on Sat.  I said sure no problem. It's 10:40 pm Friday and I still have one to go.  Looks like I will not be sleeping in.  Even though I would rather be working in the green house than doing any thing else, its seems as though there is an invisible force that pulls me in every direction away from the greenhouse (job and family).  I love my husband, my kids, my grandchildren, but most of the time it seems that they don't get just how much I love to be in the greenhouse and that I made a commitment to my customers.  I think that I have spent too many years believing that I could do everything, but am finally resigning to the fact that I really can't.  Oh well until another day, may your thumb always be green.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8047004584659665943-9102271849023971897?l=notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/feeds/9102271849023971897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8047004584659665943&amp;postID=9102271849023971897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/9102271849023971897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8047004584659665943/posts/default/9102271849023971897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesfromthegreenhouse.blogspot.com/2007/05/not-enough-hours-in-day.html' title='Not enough hours in the day'/><author><name>in the greenhouse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13245311636160425507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
