No, Kathy, the file is fine! My pics show up compressed anyway, for faster loading. When I want to see the original, I Right click on the photo, then click on "show original image", and the original file loads. Your photo was clear enough, that I didn't have to see the original image. Great close-up of the Columbine! Julie

All right class, this discussion has degenerated into composting bodies, so now you all have to sit up straight in your seats and listen to the tale of Miss V. and the Mystery Hole. Once upon a time last summer, I had a neighbor down the road who ran a puppy mill, let his dogs run wild, beat his girlfriend and entertained the local motorcycle gang. One day I came home to find the dogs in my yard, and for no good logical reason I chased after them. The dogs (six of them) headed into the woods down a path that we keep mowed. (Curving path for those who must know.) After a bit they disappeared, largely due to the fact that they were a lot more used to running than I was. I turned down a short spur off the main path to see if they had headed that way, thinking as I did so that I didn't remember this side path being there before. When I got to the end of that little path, I didn't find any dogs but found something far more interesting. Someone had come along and cut squares into a clearing in the forest floor. The area that was marked off into these aquares measured over six feet long and at least three feet wide. My mind immediately went into newsprint mode, and I could almost see the words in front of me: "The homeowner discovered what apppeared to be a shallow grave..." I headed back to the house and phoned my husband and son to be sure that this was not something they had done. I also checked with the neighboring Boy Scout camp to see if this had anything to do with a new scouting badge. Negative responses all around. My husband advised me to call the sheriff. The first young man who came out backed out of the woods pretty quickly. He decided it definitely had to be kicked upstairs to a higher authority. The next day, I had three plainclothes detectives show up. They asked me to grab some shovels and they headed back into the woods with me. When we got to the spot, they looked down at their suits and dress shoes, then at my jeans and sneakers, and voted me the best candidate to begin digging. I positioned the shovel along one of the lines of the squares, poised my foot on the edge of the shovel and gave it a good, hard shove. THUNK! I hit wood. At that point, I turned away and spent a few minutes contemplating the wisdom of having just eaten an Asiago cheese bagel moments before the detectives arrived. Once the brave men were assured that I was ready to go on digging, we found out it really wasn't very hard to dig. Someone had used a sod cutter to cut the squares into the ground and they were very easy to lift off the wood with a pitchfork, uncovering a four foot by eight foot sheet of plywood. At that point, I decided that I really shouldn't deprive these gentlemen of being the first to see what was under the plywood. They slowly pried it up to reveal . . . an empty hole. But what an empty hole it was! It definitely was large enough to hold a body, and it had been reinforced with two-by-fours so that a deer or other critter crossing over it would not collapse it. It had been dug at least three feet deep through solid clay. The interesting thing was that there was no dirt pile anywhere around the hole; someone had bothered to haul away all the spoils. In the end, the best theory was that someone was poaching deer in the woods and was using the hole to stash the carcass until they could come back unobserved with an ATV to haul out the meat. I still wonder about this, as someone went to a lot of trouble to build this hole. They hauled in a sodcutter, a sheet of plywood, various other pieces of wood and possibly a chainsaw or other brush cutting equiment to clear the path. They hauled out about three cubic yards of dirt, most of which was heavy clay. All of this trouble for a deer? A couple of weeks later, the neighbor shot his girlfriend's cat, was hauled off to jail and his father sold the house. I see far less of the sheriff than I used to and have found no other unexplained graves, um, holes, ever since. The ex-girlfriend ended up in a Wisconsin jail on a parole violation, a new address that just may have saved her life if you ask me. Miss V.

It is a museum now....I have a picture of my DH sitting on a stool in the corner wearing a dunce hat....he said that was where he usually was at his elementary school in Michigan. LOL

"Love - I want to know how your first school function goes. Go be there for that little boy." The strange thing is---I used to go all the time, to soccer games and baseball lessons, swim lessons etc. I even did some volunteer reading work in his first grade classroom. Have been to at least three or four Christmas concerts, etc. Then she assaulted me and the order said SHE could be around me only at school/extracurricular events. Otherwise, she could not come within 20 yards of me. In the event she had to come to our home (most dropoffs are at school), she had to stay at the curb, could not even pull her car into the driveway. THAT was when I stopped going to stuff. I just decided it was too much. The problem, too, is that SS now FREAKS---because he witnessed his mom punch me, saw her be taken to jail, etc---if we are even in the same vicinity. :( He is worried about a repeat. The big issue, I think, is that BM will still say nasty stuff to him. He senses the animosity from HER to ME and he has as much said that he worries she will punch me again. Then, when he gets upset, BM turns it all on ME and complains to DH that I made a big deal of the restraining order and it must be all MY fault that SS is scared. That he really KNOWS his mom would never do that again and if he is worried, it's because he thinks I want his mom to be arrested. AUUGHHH. Honestly---the family therapy you all have done would probably be beneficial to US. Just last week, for example, SS had a half day of school. I had a doctor's appt. in the afternoon and my DH had some work stuff. DH said he would miss his work thing if he HAD to but he just asked BM if she wanted to pick SS up and spend the afternoon with him; normally, she jumps at the chance for extra time with him during one of our five day stretches. She said sure, no problem. Okay, well, at 6 pm that evening, I had a haircut and color scheduled. I went a bit darker and the night before had been looking at magazine pics with the kids, asking them to help me pick a look. So BM asked SS what *kind* of doctor's appt I had that prevented me from getting him??? NONE of her BUSINESS. Well, SS knew nothing about the dr. appt, and he just said, "I don't know, I think she is getting her hair cut." BM flipped! Absolutely flipped. Nasty texts to DH about how high maintenance I am, and what a joke it is that SHE had to drive to get SS so I could get my hair done???? And that I owe her GAS MONEY. There just are not words. A.) I DID have a doctor's appt. B.) He is HER son. Good heavens. DH told her---and he was SUPER nice about it---that it was NOT a big deal and if she couldn't pick SS up at noon, he would do it! He just put it out there as a solution if SHE wanted to do it, and he made that very clear. But the biggest issue is that BM then runs her mouth to SS aobut how terrible I am, and how poor BM had to drive sooooo far to SS's to get him so "I could go get my hair done." Hate her. I really do. :( She throws fuel on SS's issues---because I never say a WORD about her to SS, nothing bad AT ALL. I smile my fake happy smile and *fake it till I make it.* I would never let SS see how much I despise that woman. She's his MOTHER. But she....makes it really difficult. So...then being around each other at events and such, just...ughhhhh...like I said, at some point, I would like to do the family therapy you guys did. Now is not the time---I am in my own individual therapy right now, and want to focus on that, on me, the only person I can control. :) Thank you for your kind words. I try to do the best I can, glad you can tell.