A team of Franciscan archaeologists digging in the biblical town of Magdala in what is now Israel say they have unearthed vials of perfume similar to those that may have been used by the woman said to have washed Jesus' feet.

The perfumed ointments were found intact at the bottom of a mud-filled swimming pool, alongside hair and make-up objects, the director of the dig conducted by the group Studium Biblicum Franciscanum told the Terrasanta.net religious website.

"If chemical analyses confirm it, these could be perfumes and creams similar to those that Mary Magdalene or the sinner cited in the Gospel used to anoint Christ's feet," Father Stefano de Luca, the lead archaeologist, told the website.

Mary Magdalene is cited in the New Testament as a steadfast disciple of Christ from whom seven demons were cast out. She is often considered the sinner who anointed Jesus' feet.

"The discovery of the ointments in Magdala at any rate is of great importance. Even if Mary Magdalene was not the woman who washed Christ's feet, we have in our hands 'cosmetic products' from Christ's time," De Luca said.

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Touches like potted topiaries, fresh cut flowers, the scent of a candle, and lovely music draw me in and I feel compelled to bring something home. A new design book, a frame, a wonderful wooden bowl and a soft throw all seem to call my name, making me feel special, in a "boutiquey" sort of way. The above illustrations were done for "Sur La Mer" - a lovely boutique in California. Tell me, if you shop there? What speaks to you, do you have a favorite local shoppe that calls your name.

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Guest Passes let you share your photos that aren't public.

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This was the week that sucked.
You probably didnt notice, but I had my head down over this last week. Extremely crappy mood. No, strike that. Worst. Mood. Ever.
It had been building for a while, but things really hit the fan starting last weekend. I went camping with a group of friends. One of them, a rather cute blonde with whom Id canoodled before, invited me to share her tent.
Outwardly, I told myself nothing was going to happen. But inwardly, I think I was more than hoping. I think I was expecting it.
As were putting stuff in her tent, she says Everyone thinks were sleeping together. Uh-oh. Thats not good. I translated that as re not sleeping together.
Oh, well. No big deal. I still have a tent to sleep in.
Friday night, she goes to bed early. I crawl in a while later, and shes sacked out. And I lay there in the dark, listening to the couple(s) in the tent next to us getting it on.
Saturday, was a group canoe trip. I asked if we were canoe buddies and she said she had already been asked. Okay, no problem.
Saturday night, shes hanging on her canoe buddy as we sit around the fire. I look around and realize Im one of the very few people who hasnt paired off. So, I opt to go to bed early.
After about an hour, I wake up with a full bladder. I switch on the flashlight, and realize my tentmate isnt in the tent. I go pee, walk back over to the fire, and see that everyone has gone to bed. Walking back to the tent, I pass by the canoe buddys tent and hear female giggling from inside.
Swell.
So, after a summer of flirting with me, shes hooked up with this other guy. Okay, I guess I can deal with that.
Long story short, when the sun comes up, guess whos back in the tent, wide awake, and acting like shed been there all night. (I knew she hadnt because I sat up by the fire for about 3 hours.)
I can handle her sleeping with someone else, (though Id have rather had the chance myself.), but why try to cover it up? Why lie? The only reasons I can come up with are a) she was trying to protect my feelings, and b) shes keeping me as a fall-back option.

Keep in mind also, that all of the events described herein are in guy-mode. You see, after I saw the pictures from my last outing, Im not sure Ill be able to dress again for a while. I looked so horrible in many of them, (see above), that that mental image is going to be tough to overcome.
If I cant convince at least myself that I look good en femme, I dont want to be en femme.

Ah, but wait! Theres more!
Ill gloss over the general dissatisfaction at work, other than to say I feel like Im working my ass off, and feel taken for granted. One evening, while the rest of the department went to a ballgame, guess who got elected to mind the shop?
Thanks, Boss.

So, how did I pull out of this downward spiral? A couple of good friends. One locally let me not only bitch, whine and moan to her, but also let me take some of it out on her too. For which I feel terrible. I took some nasty swings at her, and though she says she forgives me, I fear I took steps down a one-way street.
Another distant friend has been there for me since college. He sent me e-mail after e-mail and helped rally a seriously flagging spirit.
Id be remiss if I didnt also thank Band of Brothers. I popped that in the DVD player, and as I watched, couldnt help but think, well, at least Im not in the Ardennes in December, getting shelled by the Nazis.
Of course, going to the pub on Friday night, having a drink with a mate, and getting friendly conversation from a gorgeous brunette didnt hurt either. So what if we dont go out? So what if shes out of my league? It felt nice.

Im not 100% yet, but I do think I hit bottom, and am swimming back to the surface. Lets keep our fingers crossed.

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The following are comments, re the video link I included below,

A voice from my list of acquaintances:

This kind of ad hominem argument, if you can call it an argument rather than a pastiches of rants, makes me happy that I left the air force when I did because I used to spend my time trying to cut my way through the underbrush of ideological military mindlessness that requires all Muslims to be terroriststhe prevalent scurrility is Islamo-fascist.



As for this video, the author weaves a number of assertions, all without much proof, into a calumny of denunciations. What gives his views appeal, however, is that, depending on who is listening, there is a grain of truth is what he says.



First, he asserts that Muslims do not want to assimilate into the Western societies in which they live. Given the present climate of hatred of, and discrimination against, all things Islamic in the US, France, Britain and Germany in particular, as a lingering reminder of the past and present imperialism which has shaped the relations between the West and the Islamic world, one should not be surprised. Moreover, the particular aspect of globalization that has permitted the free flow of labor across European borders has always been predicated on the assumption that such workersTurks, North Africans, Pakistanis, etc.would eventually go home although going home meant returning to the authoritarian, undemocratic and economically unviable societies from whence they fled in the first place. Globalization, as a latter-day form of western economic imperialism, has not provided for the distribution of wealth from the more affluent to the less affluent nations. The immigrants are stuck where they are. This makes it even harder for them to deal with the myth of the melting pot and to level their differences with the majority without a loss of cultural identity. That cultural identity is religious rather than national since their national identitybeing a product of forces that was imposed from the outside rather than evolved from inside their societies is perforce much weaker than Islam. It is truly unfortunate that Islam, inasmuch as its literalism requires God to be the author of every aspect of cosmic life, cannot accept the superiority of man-made political law and therefore finds most aspects of secularism incompatible with the divinely inspired and revealed nomos. The worst examples of this incompatibility are found in the most conservative Muslim societies such as in Saudi Arabia and Iran under the Ayatollahs, the societies upon which the attention of the west has been firmly fastened because of its oil wealth and geo-strategic importance respectively and from which the west generalizes its most pernicious views of the Islamic world. Muslim communities abroad are likely to become more conservatively religious than less depending on the strength of the reaction by majority non-Muslim communities to what such fundamentalists do in their own countries. Sadly, the reaction takes the form in Britain and elsewhere of a reinforcement of outward symbols of conservatism such as the wearing of the headscarf by women which in Islam has never indicated an inferior social status as much as a symbol of modesty. In Britain the situation is further complicated in the name of multiculturalism by such bien-pensant liberals as the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Mayor of London who are willing to sacrifice certain aspects of the rule of secular law to accommodate the rule of God. But then it is not only the Muslims who can take reactionary positions with respect to religion; one has only to look at the activities of the evangelical Christian Right in the US to see what fruits religious literalism can bear.



The author would like to pin this sad state of affairs in the West on the Saudis treatment of women and their demonstrable support of Islamic terrorism. Forgetting, or perhaps not even knowing, that Tunisia. for example, has enfranchised women and forbidden polygamy since 1957, the author portrays the Saudis as nothing short of slave owners of female chattel. However, because Saudi women have no socio-political rights to speak of and deplorable crimes of passion against them happen frequently is not a valid reason to claim that they are all in the thrall of their masters. The majority of Saudi women are content with their secondary social and political status in return for the freedom of their domestic situation and, if not the affection of their husbands, at least their protection. I am not excusing the present state of women in conservative Muslim societies; Im only saying that this is a cultural not a religious bias although bias in literalist societies is always justified by twisting religion to suit social conditions and therefore is subject to historical progress as well as regression.



As for Islamic terrorism, of course there are Saudis who have given money to these miscreants in full knowledge of their activities and there are others who have done so out of religious scruples and in good faith. We can only understand this behavior by not forgetting that Saudi Arabia is a state under the rule of Quranic law, not secular law which establishes the state itself as the arbiter and ne plus ultra of the Saudi political system; it is a family corporation of several thousand members for whom the rentier state is a treasury into which they can dip according to their rank. And let us not forget either that Ussama Bin Laden did not concoct the attack against the Twin Towers in the name of the Saudi state or even of those Saudis who favored such an attack, but as an admonition to the Saudi royal family that as Guardians of the Holy Places they had fallen into grievous sin by allowing non-Muslim US troops to be stationed on sanctified territory since the first Gulf War. The Saudis use oil and conservative religion as a means of protecting the fragility of this backward feudal system. To placate the Islamic terrorists, the fundamentalists, and the liberals reformers among them to say nothing of the secular states such as the Saddams Iraq and Bashar al-Assads Syria which eye their wealth is a matter of survival and they have been remarkably consistent in this foreign policy for decades.



Another view, another friend, originally from the states, who now lives and works in England. These are some detailed examples of what the talking head on the video was trying to convey. Americans may not fully appreciate what Europeans are feeling because of factors that include population density, cultural flexibility and in general an aversion, seemingly, to change in the national fabric of the USA.

Here are some quotes:

Yep, that is a fair view amongst the locals I would say, worse if you were elsewhere in Europe. They do prize their freedom here and it is already being eroded by the EU and the French, having taken the Island by storm in 1066 (or I should say the french Vikings) at least had the good sense to retain 'English' common law, but at long last the rest of Europe is conceding to Social Fascism and supporting the Napoleonic code - Roman law with a nasty bite, just like the codes' namesake. Yes, we are waking up to the fact that within the UK women are being murdered because they want to choose their own life, married off by force to preserve their 'culture' and generally discriminated against because, well they are women (some kept at home, 3rd generations that do not speak English, etc. etc). We are all aware of how successful societies are that under educate and oppress their women. Other anecdotes include a number of recent cases of harassment in the city's financial institutions that were perpetrated by 'Muslim' male bosses against their female colleagues. One only has to wait for the fateful day that one of these like minded individuals takes over within the judiciary or civil service, then which law or rules will they use to consider a case involving a woman or even worse a homosexual (the Muslim view here is indeed extreme). Mulit-culturalism is very difficult and as the father of a young girl, these issues concern me. It is a very uncomfortable time at the moment, the French are more cautious (12% of the population is Muslim) and the Dutch are instituting a number of laws to retrieve the situation as a number of people have been murdered because of their actions and a number are in permanent hiding.

Anyway, not surprising at all. I trust that planning permission will not be granted, but then they have lots and lots of money to make sure it will be.

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The EU's court on Human Rights will make minority demands much more difficult to refuse. Indeed, if the recent rulings regarding the proposed deportation of imam's inciting terrorism is anything to go by it is worrying (two judgements were overturned in favour of these individuals on the grounds that they would be imprisoned upon their return to Yemen and Saudi respectively, so they are allowed to remain with us to preach their vitriol on the streets of north London). Conservative demands were commonly held within the UK until the 60's anyway (read Andrew Marr's book if you want to get a picture of the true nanny state). In the UK this type of position is exacerbated by the fact that we are constitutionally a 'Christian democracy', which most people here choose to forget - the Queen is head of state and head of the church as you know. This creates complexities not found elsewhere in Europe where the church / state division is more clear-cut (the recent comments by the Archbishop of Canterbury created a very real political crisis for a week or so). Anyway, things are very uncomfortable with these issues at the moment.

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The guy who taught me how to pick locks told me that. It's true.

If you look at the face of a lock cylinder, let's say a Schlege B160, which is a deadbolt and a very common one-- you've probably seen dozens of them, but you didn't know that's what you were looking at--you see two circles, the big one that makes up the body of the lock, and the little one in the middle of the big one that is the face of the cylinder plug. That's the part the key goes into, provided you have a key.

When you don't have a key you need somebody like me. It works like this:

First you set the turning wrench, which is the other tool, the one that isn't a pick on the off chance you've seen one of the few movies that actually shows lockpicking as it really is. It's a little L-shaped piece of spring steel, and I usually hold it it place--little end in the keyway of the plug, big end off at an angle like a clock hand saying it's five-ish--with the side of my left index finger. The side has fewer calluses and the tension on the turning wrench is really more important than what you do with the pick. Too much tension and the pins don't move, too little, and they won't bind up.

The pick I hold in my right hand, less like a pencil, more like a piece of chalk for writing on a chalkboard. Every locksmith I know favors one particular pick over the others, I prefer a rake, which is the wiggly looking one, the most commonly pictured one, unless I happen to be picking a wafer lock in which case I tend to use a double ball. A close friend of mine does everything with a half-diamond, which looks rather like one of those triangular flags they use on golf courses that tell you what hole you're on. It's a matter of taste. Picking locks isn't science, it's art.

The pick goes into the keyway and it kind of... probes. This is where the x-ray eyes come in. Because there is a moment where the tactile sensation goes three dimensional... or else it doesn't and you can rake it for a while to make things look good and then reach for your drill.

It's like looking at one of those Magic Eye pictures that always give me a headache. It's a bunch of blobs... it's a bunch of blobs... it's a bunch of blobs... HOLY SHIT where did that come from? A paradigm shift, they call that.

Only it happens with the eyes in your fingertips. I'm not the best in the world at picking locks, so it doesn't happen with me all the time. But when it does it's a kind of sorcery. My consciousness, my ka, is somehow projected into the mechanism and I own that chunk of metal. Having the door come open is almost anticlimactic at that point. There's alway a moment when I feel I could make it float up to the ceiling if I wanted to. It's mine.

I hack metal. I have an unashamedly mystical relationship with the spirits of metals-- brass is a good dog that wants you to pet it and shape it into useful parts, steel is proud, haughty even, and needs a firm, patient hand, aluminum is a spiteful bitch that will lie to your face if you let it.

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http://www.ssefo.com/. It was comparable to diving into a pool filled with ice cubes! Now my son has always loved these icy waters and for some bizarre reason, NEVER seems effected by it. Sitting on the beach you will find most people on the beach and not in the water at all. Every once in awhile someone will go in, dive under then come right back out perhaps only swimming for a seemingly forever time of 10 minutes. OUR son however at one point was in the water for an HOUR and we had to call him out even then as he complained he was not cold yet to touch him was like touching a human that had been frozen in ice in Antarctica for a 100 years! I think he may join the polar bear club when he is older! Crazy, just crazy! After our swimming time, we headed out on a field trip the Brockway Mountain, the highest point of the keweenaw and just amazing views up there! Our daughters friend had never been there and we wanted to give her that experience and to refresh our childrens memory of the place. It always amazes me that locals never go see and never visit what all the whole keweenaw is about! If you look at the pictures you will see a map of the keweenaw which we all now call home and will begin to understand why it is always cool here and why our winters can get so blasted cold and long. It is literally a peninsula that juts out surrounded on all 3 sides by lake superior giving us lake effect snows FOREVER come winter season, the breeze and wind coming off the lake keeps us cool in the summer as well, for the most part. We completed the day by coming home for dinner and the makings for banana splits for desert. It was a great day of school Thursday.

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It is Friday night, as I toss pairs of boots and gloves out of my hall closet, desperately searching for some sort of water protection, preferably an umbrella.
As I toss another random boot out behind me, I see a red blurry light from the nearby window that comes from the reflection of a car's headlights, mixed with the droplets of summer rain. I decide to ditch the idea of the umbrella and instead grab all the boots and other winter wear and throw them in the closet and slam the door.

Jumping into the back of the waiting Black Jeep Grand Cherokee, I slam the door shut after being dumped on by a shower of water, My hair is stringy and water droplets are scattered across the front of my light blue button-down and khaki pants.

"Hey," Cameron says, with an echo from my other guy friend Josh in the back seat.

"Hey, guys." I reply, running my fingers through my long blonde hair. I'm not really in the most talkative mood as I watch the raindrops run down the windows. This doesn't last long because Cameron and Josh start goofing around and acting out scenes from Saturday Night Live, which of course starts me laughing. Sometimes you just have to appreciate guys.

After a few minutes, we pull into a parking space in front of Blockbuster and all three of us jump out and head for the entrance. Josh and I both run inside to avoid getting soaked, but of course Cameron lags behind, standing in the middle of the parking lot holding his arms up in the rain like a complete idiot. Josh and I run to the back where the latest arrivals for videos are displayed. We run past an older man stacking a pile of videos back on the shelves. He has long stringy dark hair and reeks of cigarette smoke and as I glance at his name tag I realize that he is named Tim. I shudder as I look at him over my shoulder and we make our way closer to the back of the room.

Finally, we see the sign for the latest arrivals and start peering over the selection of videos. I study Josh for a minute as he picks up American Pie and looks at the back of it.

"This the BEST movie!" Josh exclaims, as I roll my eyes and smile. I have only known Josh for, a couple years. He sat next to me in English in eighth grade and we automatically just clicked. He used to keep to himself most of the time, with his kind of shy blue eyes and dark hair. He's not much of a loud person, but Cameron and I have definitely fixed that over the years.

After Josh and I browse for a few minutes, Cameron finally joins us. His hair is wet and plastered to his face and his red Abercrombie shirt and khaki shorts are completely soaked through. I tousle his hair and tell him just how ridiculous he looks as he grabs American Pie from Josh and The Haunting from the shelf as we make our way to the front of the store to the cash register. Josh pulls out some money from the back pocket of his navy shorts and hands it to the lady who is waiting for it. I glance at her.

She looks like she's somewhere in her forties with her dark hair twisted into a tight bun on top of her head. She has a harsh looking face, but smiles at us after we pay for the videos. I grab the bag and then we make our way back to the Jeep.

Josh's older brother, Clarke, is almost eighteen and is our taxi driver for the night. His girlfriend, Erin, whom I only knew a little bit, is next to him in the front seat.
She is leaning on his shoulder and holding his hand with her legs on top of his lap. When he opens the door, she quickly moves back to her side of the seat next to the window, definitely annoyed by her boyfriend having to tow around some freshmen on her date night.

As I sit there in the middle of the car with Josh next to me, I am suddenly deeply interested in Erin and Clarke.

I have always thought Clarke was attractive, even before I knew Josh. He has crystal blue eyes like his younger brother, but also dirty blonde hair and had an amazing tan from being a lifeguard at Greenwich Point. Erin is also gorgeous, with her long blonde hair, emerald green eyes and an amazing tan of her own from life guarding alongside Clarke. They have been together for only a few months, but they act as if they are engaged.

I am now mesmerized with both of them. I watch as Clarke makes fun of Erin and she punches him on the shoulder. Then he tickles her, trying to keep one hand on the wheel. Erin starts giggling uncontrollably. She punches him harder on the shoulder and he puts both hands on the wheel again, focusing more on the road but also looking into her eyes. She takes his hand in hers and they both kind of sit there while he continues to drive.

I take this all in. I think about what it would be like to be in a relationship like that. Sure, some of my friends had gone out with seniors when they were only freshmen, and I have had a few boyfriends before high school. But it's not the same.
Dating a senior as a freshman does not bring complete seriousness to a relationship. The freshmen are always thought of as just annoying freshmen, being dated by senior guys for play. In junior high school, relationships were never that serious either. Girls only went out with guys for a few months max, and they never were really confident around them.

I am thinking about a completely new relationship. One where the partners are mature and are seriously in love. I've never had that. I try to picture what it would be like to be with a guy like that, to be with Jeff Waters or some other guy for that matter. I sit there, completely wanting a boyfriend more than ever before.
Hey, what the heck are you thinking about? It's like you're gone, man." Cameron says, waving his hand in front of my face.

I sigh. Im back in the Jeep Grand Cherokee with just my two guy friends sitting there with me. " Nothing. Absolutely nothing, I answer.

Just then, we pull into Josh's driveway and jump out with the videos. Josh's brother screeches out of the driveway, now free of little brothers and their little friends. I walk slowly towards Josh's TV room where Britney, Charissa, Patsy, and Charlotte are already piled on the couch watching Daria on MTV. I think to myself, as I open the sliding glass door that friends are definitely important, but having a boyfriend is even more important. At least right now anyway. Right then and there at that moment. I vow to myself that, as of the upcoming school year, I will never be single for more than a month ever again.

Cameron looks at me strangely, and then opens the door. I sit on the couch with the other girls. The laughter and joking seems to come from another world, as I dream about my boyfriend-to-be.

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It has been one month of laziness and intermittent workouts and now I have to get serious again. No more ice cream (snif!), limited sugar, and only 2 drinks for 4th of July. Other than that I am dry. On the flip side, I have to hit the pool, ride my bike, and continue my running. I have only been in the pool once in the last month and I have not been on my bike at all--the horror of it all!

I have the Longhorn 70.3 in 10 weeks!!! OMG! Where did the time go!!??!! I have some serious training to do and I am just realizing that I am running out of time! Good Grief!

This past weekend was a good running weekend for me. Last Wednesday night I did a track workout and focused on RPE rather than time or heart rate. I will start focusing on time once I start my Yasso 800's. I jogged over to the track in Memorial Park from where we had parked and then ran 3 x 400 hard, 400 easy, 800 hard, 400 easy. The last one was hard because I knew my heart rate was seriously elevated from the tingly feeling in my cheeks. After the workout, the kid and I went to go eat with Louis and Angela at one of my favorite spots, Cafe Express. YUM!!! One Greek Salad, please!

On Saturday morning I ran a little over 8 miles on a pancake flat route out of Memorial Park and west up Memorial Dr. to Chimney Rock and back in. It was hot and very humid and I could have wrung out my shorts and that is a rare one for me to be able to do. After the run, a bunch of us went to Goode Company Taqueria and I had scrambled eggs and chicken fajitas but without the tortillas. El Esposo was in town for the weekend and he took our son out for a belated Birthday Father and Son day. This gave me time to go to the movies and I finally saw the new Indiana Jones movie. It was good, but Ironman was still better.

On Sunday, I had planned to do a ride, but I was not able to find anyone who wanted to go pedal the miles with me so I bailed on that idea and went running again. I wanted to focus on going slower than I had the day before. My TNT/blogger buddy, Terry and the gal that he had been running with had caught up with me at a water stop so we all ran back in. Little did I know that Speed Racer was going to pick up the pace the last mile. I guess if I had not had my iPod on, I would have known this bit of news rather than sucking air the last 400 meters. So Sunday was LSD work and trying to keep my heart rate under 150 and preferably around 140. About 2 miles into my run, I literally ran into one of the girls I had coached for the Houston Marathon this last year and her husband. They were loading up the truck to head home after spending the night at her parent's house. We chatted for a few minutes and it was really good to see them. I got back to running and around the 7 mile mark I hit a Clif Shot and then the digestive system started moving. Some days it is fine and other days it works on the theory of "If something goes in then something must exit". I had to walk briefly to compose myself and then I got going again. If I focus on other things, it is better, but the closer you get to home you can't not think about getting in the door to the commode. The last two miles were all about keeping it together and getting home. I was having goose flesh all over my body and about ready to cry the last mile. I have yet to go up and knock on a stranger's door and ask to use the bathroom, but dang it was tempting! I made it home and without any accidents. I looked at the Polar, and I put in just a tenth of a mile shy of 11 miles. The rest of the day I was lazy and hungry.

So my plan today is to hit the pool if it does not rain and if it does, I will be on my bike trainer. We shall see how it goes.

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lauren and i just got back home after being at my parent's house for a few days. my sister and her four kids are here for a three week visit. yay!! lauren loved playing with her three older cousins, and we got to meet 7 week old baby remi for the first time. (he is so sweet!) and although lauren did think the baby was pretty neat, she was thrilled to be able to hang out with big kids. she had her first encounter with polly pockets and my little pony, thanks to a very generous and patient 3 almost 4 year old elle. cousins micah and toby gave her lots of hugs and attention as well. and the swimming pool was definitely a hit. unfortunately, i didn't have a camera, but we'll going back over the next few weeks so i'll be sure to document all the fun. she had such a good time that as soon as we walked through the front door back at my house she said, "bye-bye, bye-bye!" i guess joel and i are rather dull. so to cheer her up we had some tickles on the couch. that seemed to work for now.

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Lots of things my Freshman year, that was my favorite year. One night we went out trying to find a red bra for Kristin for the dance. Miu decided to try and pick up a cone while we were driving. He pulled it in. Soon all the guys were trying to pull these cones into the van. Then Jared and Todd decided came up with the idea of grabbing the road signs with the blinking lights on them. They also grabbed some sand bags holding down the other signs. Pretty soon the car was filled with all these construction signs and cones. Usually these guys would put them on my house, but I was with them, so they couldn't do that. They decided to put them on Samantha's house instead (She freaks out at that kind of stuff). We put the sand bags in front of her screen door, so she couldn't open it, the blinking lights by the kitchen window, and the cones all over her yard. Every time we passed a construction area, we would grab a cone, then drop it off at Sam's house. Ryan saw a 12 foot flag in front of an apartment complex. The 5 boys got out and grabbed it. They tried shoving it in the van, but it hung out the back about 3 feet. Todd sat in the back holding down the back door as we sped to Sam's house. They stuck that pole right in the middle of her front yard. It looked so funny.

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