tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-951829974810009902024-02-20T06:39:44.568-08:00Twist of FateA Sims 3 Random LegacyVexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-46844178839950659832012-12-10T20:47:00.000-08:002012-12-11T11:25:52.337-08:002.10 - No NameThe last thing in the world Isabel was expecting upon returning home was a baby laying on her front porch!<br />
<br />
She hopes this is just a simple case of random abandonment and they could sort this out with social services help.<br />
<br />
The only thing she could do was scoop the poor little thing up. She couldn't just leave it there!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6c2IBdbbRXlTLGUCZ16iS3f5q3ARxtgh8z0fDWBUxFtFpFdiyU-XQyT9BI9w_SHApKzl_pcRi51dUteOWkDSZtFZafxLvydqEaUCGSP1eLvwcnF8pLRqY8syfWt8vX3Iee2EwwvbY_HF/s1600/Screenshot-181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6c2IBdbbRXlTLGUCZ16iS3f5q3ARxtgh8z0fDWBUxFtFpFdiyU-XQyT9BI9w_SHApKzl_pcRi51dUteOWkDSZtFZafxLvydqEaUCGSP1eLvwcnF8pLRqY8syfWt8vX3Iee2EwwvbY_HF/s640/Screenshot-181.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Aww hey, don't cry - you look kinda chilly out here ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As she picks the baby up, an envelope falls out of her pink blanket. Isabel stoops to pick it up. "Oh boy, the dreaded letter, begging us to take care of someone's unwanted baby ... here we go ..." but then, her heart drops when she sees the envelope has <i>Nate's </i>name written on the front. Things seem to be getting very strangely complicated, very quickly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX8S98fgYX2gdqEs7nz4oP71uaG-vs9bm3ILnQ8kUvlkbRYsOQdjHWl0vT92c6UOqrCT10selNtrIvGEmIGkkv-KqprwLMegT6R1CxkLQoZz6dOOzH-19LlFKTommIAP9NCEqZbw8QcFD/s1600/Screenshot-182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX8S98fgYX2gdqEs7nz4oP71uaG-vs9bm3ILnQ8kUvlkbRYsOQdjHWl0vT92c6UOqrCT10selNtrIvGEmIGkkv-KqprwLMegT6R1CxkLQoZz6dOOzH-19LlFKTommIAP9NCEqZbw8QcFD/s640/Screenshot-182.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well ... let's go find Nate and hopefully this is just some kind of mistake ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate, completely oblivious, is in the middle of a big death match in some online shooter game ... sitting outside in his boxer shorts and fuzzy bunny slippers.<br />
<br />
"Nate ... you need to get off the computer. I'm back and we have an issue ..."<br />
<br />
"Oh hey Izzy, your flight back in was early. Hang on lemme get killed again, be right there."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-pWVvsQPyVJeQqH8QZhLEg3U_rabsEzolIA039G2zwNGA686Sw47x7-d96YEIQqfdDObLIZj_zhlCDzS3lofcMyPjguk_vuEGqDUOSJ-WOvrHWHfIcVRlIy6WXJAln5e0nzujo4VkBVF/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-pWVvsQPyVJeQqH8QZhLEg3U_rabsEzolIA039G2zwNGA686Sw47x7-d96YEIQqfdDObLIZj_zhlCDzS3lofcMyPjguk_vuEGqDUOSJ-WOvrHWHfIcVRlIy6WXJAln5e0nzujo4VkBVF/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No, seriously Nathan Twist. Get off the computer <i>NOW</i>."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next few minutes are as awkward as one could possibly imagine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9igZtw6mN34FTz_6jOZ4d_W34eNyyL8uMzs0gRM4MoPsi_I0yO8JqrOXLDtdbnIYQoHRrcMaJ_xP5bRvFG_kmfh49J5f1rKFFascGhhZXWVQZY_QKkfvD2Fv1yz1RKWx6XIUe-GTD8x9P/s1600/Screenshot-184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9igZtw6mN34FTz_6jOZ4d_W34eNyyL8uMzs0gRM4MoPsi_I0yO8JqrOXLDtdbnIYQoHRrcMaJ_xP5bRvFG_kmfh49J5f1rKFFascGhhZXWVQZY_QKkfvD2Fv1yz1RKWx6XIUe-GTD8x9P/s640/Screenshot-184.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>...</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
"Uh, what's that?" Nathan asks cautiously. "It's a baby, obviously," Isabel quips back in a sarcastic tone. "Any idea why it would be <i>laying on our front porch</i>?"<br />
<br />
Nathan blinks, obviously as completely clueless about this as Isabel. He shrugs and then his eyes widen when he reads the name on the envelope as Isabel hands it to him. The letter is brief, and Nate scans it quickly. His eyes go from surprised to shocked, his mouth dropping open as he reads:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br />Hey Nate, sorry to dump this on you. Surprise. Just couldn't bring myself to come tell you and I was gonna put her up for adoption but I chickened out at the last minute and kinda bailed from the hospital without telling anyone. Then I panicked and din't know where to go.<br /><br />Yeah, she's yours. I know we only messed around that one time, maybe that time in the hot tub too at the black box, I dunno ... but I stopped workin' for Claudia after that and din't mess with no other guys so she's gotta be yours. The paperwork's at the St. Claire hospital, you need to go down there and sign it to keep her.<br /><br />I'm headin' outta town so don't go tryin to find me or make me go to court or nothin' - I don't wanna be found and I'm not exactly Mom material you know? You an' your sister got a lotta money, you take care of your kid.<br /><br /> - Coco</i></span></blockquote>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHmExKjuwBEA5o84CyPEjekqDq1MYFGP4ED2s7ksU5jTuu2qmmBtHx4w_xEFLuQsNl3_Judkdv77NIqriyLhwwbU3xG0BkXGhztru0F4569uppqOahvlwRawh-FGNTyEnQz5ugBbMZYHc/s1600/Screenshot-193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHmExKjuwBEA5o84CyPEjekqDq1MYFGP4ED2s7ksU5jTuu2qmmBtHx4w_xEFLuQsNl3_Judkdv77NIqriyLhwwbU3xG0BkXGhztru0F4569uppqOahvlwRawh-FGNTyEnQz5ugBbMZYHc/s640/Screenshot-193.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is probably an appropriate moment to have a freakout.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel grabs the letter and reads it herself. Her own reaction is a bit more like what you'd expect.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitg5xwV4yrYtx4YSYrTUYO2uJnxdCJSuCuEKpy1zsnVhJIPKgTwF6ZdokHThKqFU4105HEKr_9XCv7_eb5qCfu7vHbzzxXpwSjZxobtzN_iUwC3-F7-YSdl7UykoDb6fDYOol9sZz0KVI3/s1600/Screenshot-187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitg5xwV4yrYtx4YSYrTUYO2uJnxdCJSuCuEKpy1zsnVhJIPKgTwF6ZdokHThKqFU4105HEKr_9XCv7_eb5qCfu7vHbzzxXpwSjZxobtzN_iUwC3-F7-YSdl7UykoDb6fDYOol9sZz0KVI3/s640/Screenshot-187.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nate, are you <i>kidding </i>me?? How could you be so <i>stupid</i>, you're just a freakin' teenager!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate stands there and takes it all as Isabel rails at him about every possible thing she could think of to go off on him about. To his credit, he keeps his cool.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaWLP9BBgKtioqfJda3eaQ8L_g0Jy1OrW6ArhhApey21cDhGH34p0LDeQN_S4w09V-IXvaJuewog1xMg8Br3NK8XyMFYH0i1ERi6qNLt3GzYBPQzB5isCXPeX1JZn3DgWBFSQps0gqYgn/s1600/Screenshot-189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaWLP9BBgKtioqfJda3eaQ8L_g0Jy1OrW6ArhhApey21cDhGH34p0LDeQN_S4w09V-IXvaJuewog1xMg8Br3NK8XyMFYH0i1ERi6qNLt3GzYBPQzB5isCXPeX1JZn3DgWBFSQps0gqYgn/s640/Screenshot-189.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nathan this is amazingly irresponsible. How do you expect to take care of this baby, go to school, and also run our relic business??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Nate's already got the gears in his mind spinning how to make it all work out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheI_ky1tMfwGqKTLN9RGC2BGEckYcqw-2IiqU6KZynXFR8xh4EY2u0cX1BG_LZbc4WiHHVCahwDKhk628auNmjt80Bar_82MV96pI9v7BdUOVhcn7hDaWyVJPMhZbspT5mvsbkf2DJq0Tj/s1600/Screenshot-190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheI_ky1tMfwGqKTLN9RGC2BGEckYcqw-2IiqU6KZynXFR8xh4EY2u0cX1BG_LZbc4WiHHVCahwDKhk628auNmjt80Bar_82MV96pI9v7BdUOVhcn7hDaWyVJPMhZbspT5mvsbkf2DJq0Tj/s640/Screenshot-190.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"School's online, I can do that whenever she's asleep, and keep running things from home for you too."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course, Isabel's got a dozen questions how this could happen and who this girl was and why he had gone and had unprotected sex with her.<br />
<br />
She goes on to embarrassingly point out, "I can't believe you are already having <b>sex</b>!! I didn't think I needed to have the '<i>birds and bees</i>' talk since you're online all the time looking at <i>porn </i>anyways!" (Doh!!)<br />
<br />
Where did he meet her? Who was this Claudia woman she worked for ... was she <i>seriously </i>a prostitute??<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxflko2l1RTYBDoKK4EJC116VpL1-TNT8A3xljjx0AAegz3SqQWaS_pYCusbQj68uK_4gOLrtRjRRPYklnWyJTEYSf6HQ2NwvkxBUYTYjKBhUnFO1KCu_NEzRByS90dUN9Ro24-CXV13T/s1600/Screenshot-191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxflko2l1RTYBDoKK4EJC116VpL1-TNT8A3xljjx0AAegz3SqQWaS_pYCusbQj68uK_4gOLrtRjRRPYklnWyJTEYSf6HQ2NwvkxBUYTYjKBhUnFO1KCu_NEzRByS90dUN9Ro24-CXV13T/s640/Screenshot-191.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Does this all have something to do with that music gig you told me about? How could you get into this much mess?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(Nate isn't really given much opportunity to respond to all the rapid questions here)<br />
<br />
After she had blown her anger out and asked every question she could think of, the only thing left to do was hand the baby over to "Daddy" and sigh in resignation.<br />
<br />
Still not completely convinced, especially considering Coco's <i>occupation</i>, Isabel demands they go down to the hospital immediately to have a paternity test done and to get the baby's birth certificate if indeed she's Nate's baby. They don't even know if she has a name yet!<br />
<br />
Nate is obviously quite awkward about holding the baby for the first time ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIrUnwG2jAaYqBC2YsjwmmwjWagjG9p6RNqL_oGyI9ntnEbpQeT_9rkX6GbAoHwSOmFIIA7I80c98mHZJP_ghqjCDy9jgAHhDFCZL8VUyM2se2bmo2jLDRH-u9UMCMSxCGnIGK0RKtdmA/s1600/Screenshot-192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIrUnwG2jAaYqBC2YsjwmmwjWagjG9p6RNqL_oGyI9ntnEbpQeT_9rkX6GbAoHwSOmFIIA7I80c98mHZJP_ghqjCDy9jgAHhDFCZL8VUyM2se2bmo2jLDRH-u9UMCMSxCGnIGK0RKtdmA/s640/Screenshot-192.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wow ... she's like, really tiny. I don't know how to hold her ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They take a cab down to the hospital, immediately, just like Isabel said. She hopes this is all just a big mistake and the baby is actually someone else's so they can give it over to the social workers for adoption. She's not really that heartless, but right now she's mad, and reeling in shock from the fact that Nate's been having sex with a prostitute, so she's not thinking very clearly.<br />
<br />
They pause at the doorway, and Nate looks down at the little baby girl in his arms and he gives her a small hug before they go in.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nDNA8Mong298v4h7er7tJby0LQOgAyx5jGEnzjZTUNU7DLFDYbxu-qEMslUUh-zXE5P3yDeAa5admUwdPvEsPE35AdcPzq3uwYJn4MPX5vPKyaNiLFI41iH1qAwGCc0u6vFFMPRvZR-8/s1600/Screenshot-202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nDNA8Mong298v4h7er7tJby0LQOgAyx5jGEnzjZTUNU7DLFDYbxu-qEMslUUh-zXE5P3yDeAa5admUwdPvEsPE35AdcPzq3uwYJn4MPX5vPKyaNiLFI41iH1qAwGCc0u6vFFMPRvZR-8/s640/Screenshot-202.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate whispers, "I'm sorry little girl ... I don't know what's going to happen to you yet ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The lab work takes a really long time, but at least the hospital here in the city is sophisticated enough to do it onsite and not send it away to a lab for weeks of waiting!<br />
<br />
It's a match. Nate is the biological father of this little girl. Nathan signs his name to her birth certificate and they leave the hospital.<br />
<br />
They're both stunned.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8jmIsqFv_9qa8LsM_KVokTcIONIUuCytSSg3RHWRvJgcRs2vQvdXex1VwRU4Dw8EeDfYC-fwdGhDUTtcnBAVfV_iogr_cJuYH3YWZc73GhLJOztZRJ0umpf9b_Qac79NrQtqfz4BiYU3/s1600/Screenshot-216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8jmIsqFv_9qa8LsM_KVokTcIONIUuCytSSg3RHWRvJgcRs2vQvdXex1VwRU4Dw8EeDfYC-fwdGhDUTtcnBAVfV_iogr_cJuYH3YWZc73GhLJOztZRJ0umpf9b_Qac79NrQtqfz4BiYU3/s640/Screenshot-216.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well, what do we do now? You ready to be a Father?" </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's a big step to take and a huge responsibility for a young guy. Nate is going to need a lot of help.<br />
<br />
Isabel, deciding to make the best of it, peeks over Nate's shoulder trying to see the birth certificate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxT6hTHe8fsBeIILxA5LtMK1zmCEaoE1LfMKbxxJY1t2itj4Kjba1z3WAjIMkegQkF8bGxac-iBxX02yH67-_8amdH2JCJ1lDodv6baEwpL4cDWY8uUj-Eto3TCO3zP0AouVovuxsWCjt/s1600/Screenshot-218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxT6hTHe8fsBeIILxA5LtMK1zmCEaoE1LfMKbxxJY1t2itj4Kjba1z3WAjIMkegQkF8bGxac-iBxX02yH67-_8amdH2JCJ1lDodv6baEwpL4cDWY8uUj-Eto3TCO3zP0AouVovuxsWCjt/s640/Screenshot-218.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well ... what's her name Nate??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's looking away, trying to hold it together. "It says her name is Nona. <b>Nona-Me Twist</b>"<br />
<br />
Isabel squints and eyes the scribbling on the paper. The nurse hadn't been very neat. "What kind of name is Nona ME?"<br />
<br />
More squinting at a smudge on the paper where the ink had not dried right.<br />
<br />
"Nate, I don't think that's right. I think the lady up in Labor and Delivery smudged it and the administrative lady downstairs didn't notice when she filed it." She tries to make light of it and laughs a little, "You know - when a baby is born and the Mom doesn't give it a name right away, they just put it's last name and leave it blank, or write in '<i>baby X</i>' or whatever? Nate, I think the smudge is not a dash, it just says "<u>Noname</u>" all scrunched together!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjKxupfjxM5eSezsvVYit7nU5pwHA-SuvC8FNHrXk-9vJwiBcXw48ZXLnQ7ztNN7KZalttsG3GXUOmWbjQ7pGm16kOkMRvcXXjqnrakW7PxOhyxv4CpGhOXKQNFoM_m__pmnTFAd7YW1j/s1600/Screenshot-213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjKxupfjxM5eSezsvVYit7nU5pwHA-SuvC8FNHrXk-9vJwiBcXw48ZXLnQ7ztNN7KZalttsG3GXUOmWbjQ7pGm16kOkMRvcXXjqnrakW7PxOhyxv4CpGhOXKQNFoM_m__pmnTFAd7YW1j/s640/Screenshot-213.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well <i>you </i>like that name, don't you Nona?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel sighs. Nate's still just an immature kid, and now he has a kid of his own.<br />
<br />
Well a few things had to be dealt with immediately.<br />
<br />
"Nate, you realize your uh, rather <i>premature </i>party days are over, right? Now every minute of your day (and night) is going to revolve around taking care of a baby. I still have to travel for my job, how are you going to handle it alone?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMu7W9K-ZkkeNwNGC5fP_WaVMYl77h279eeMebgbU7L3oJFzIFONEt9HjLmNFhSFqY47iGEq54F5TYbk1Fe62qP2wX4c-gfTc_pt5ZVtLb_83pPqIM25FPXxMIwAnpC7fcaTVONLMj3FmA/s1600/Screenshot-203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMu7W9K-ZkkeNwNGC5fP_WaVMYl77h279eeMebgbU7L3oJFzIFONEt9HjLmNFhSFqY47iGEq54F5TYbk1Fe62qP2wX4c-gfTc_pt5ZVtLb_83pPqIM25FPXxMIwAnpC7fcaTVONLMj3FmA/s640/Screenshot-203.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I still need you to help me run my relic sales - can you handle that and not let me down?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's not really sure yet how he's going to handle this, but he doesn't really have a choice. Giving Nona up for adoption was <i>not </i>an option. Her Mom had already abandoned her, and something protective inside of Nate went off like a bomb. Maybe its because he had lost his own parents so young, but Nate feels determined to somehow make it work out for this little girl and to be there for her the best he can.<br />
<br />
He tells Isabel how strongly he feels about his decision as he holds little Nona close to him. She seems to be smiling and hasn't even cried this whole time they've been out!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVH8jVPe9idiuiDTZVtVcK7kU75rEj2NwO3BPkwxobF31jasqzCdTFdrQEbg6xc_MFp7tP6wT4hG9K1NAdqwf1xwfecm7bzhHLYFYZmo8mX83c2fiSNh5IWy0qnfdpgOrNklpHbeYAas9/s1600/Screenshot-211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVH8jVPe9idiuiDTZVtVcK7kU75rEj2NwO3BPkwxobF31jasqzCdTFdrQEbg6xc_MFp7tP6wT4hG9K1NAdqwf1xwfecm7bzhHLYFYZmo8mX83c2fiSNh5IWy0qnfdpgOrNklpHbeYAas9/s640/Screenshot-211.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm going to do the best I can for her Izzy. She's our <i>family </i>now and I won't leave her without parents too."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course this has a pretty significant impact on Isabel who has probably been over-thinking this whole thing and not letting her heart have any feelings yet for the baby. She <i>was </i>their family now and Nate was right, there wasn't really another choice that would feel right. They'd do what they had to do.<br />
<br />
They talk a long time on the cab ride back home and both feel a lot better, but still woefully unprepared when they arrive at the front steps of their still mostly bare home. They'd have to do a lot more shopping to deal with a baby in the house!<br />
<br />
They stand outside for a moment, and Isabel glances at Nate holding his daughter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTL9IB81VNnPqmbKsP7k9qmULGbRymfTO6xh-zBxMCYMlV1iZjn4JMGMYi4kulxVynzrMYjymAghOEebxPuxfbZVth0rBs49UwtnTlWLboIu0pdF5Wh0QsjmN3NiVPRRgTnlHRU_tHRRK/s1600/Screenshot-219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTL9IB81VNnPqmbKsP7k9qmULGbRymfTO6xh-zBxMCYMlV1iZjn4JMGMYi4kulxVynzrMYjymAghOEebxPuxfbZVth0rBs49UwtnTlWLboIu0pdF5Wh0QsjmN3NiVPRRgTnlHRU_tHRRK/s640/Screenshot-219.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, Nona Me Twist"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
Nona is actually the biological offspring of Nathan and Coco, not an adoptee. You will have to imagine the woohoo'ing happening while Isabel was gone in France! I used MC to do instant baby action on Nate with Coco as the 'donor' Sim so that the baby would be added to the Twist family as his daughter.<br />
<br />
The same day Nona was "born" Coco aged up to young adult, and I had her removed from my game (saved to my sim bin of course) to fit with the story that she's left town for the great unknown. Some other city to start over in as a working girl I'm sure.<br />
<br />
Here's a bonus shot of her that night, right after she aged up. She's a pretty girl with lovely medium dark skin and big hazel green eyes (I think she looks like she's from a tropical island race) and of course the yellow tips on her black hair. Nona should grow up interesting looking, but I haven't peeked yet!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnJyS8brglgpHW4zitP9WywAcVokeyVHRzgk_j7ZhLuthYvJ8PQN4lasN49KnF6BX_XQLPx0oojz1rQycsAEzkGrNRvrpfLzeL6VutB9q617Uvvnubi5AxJ70mqaMEYSJv5XMQQv6Io1_/s1600/Screenshot-325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnJyS8brglgpHW4zitP9WywAcVokeyVHRzgk_j7ZhLuthYvJ8PQN4lasN49KnF6BX_XQLPx0oojz1rQycsAEzkGrNRvrpfLzeL6VutB9q617Uvvnubi5AxJ70mqaMEYSJv5XMQQv6Io1_/s640/Screenshot-325.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Coco Pie"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-23480618096991273762012-12-08T18:12:00.001-08:002012-12-10T21:07:24.406-08:002.9 - Nectar Comes in at the MouthAfter exploring the catacombs beneath the Nectary in Champs Les Sims, Isabel has been assigned some rather unusual work. She's been asked to get to know some of the locals and history of the town. Beatrice says there is rumor of an underground relic trafficking organization which is interfering with their archaeology project.<br />
<br />
Isabel knows the truth about their <i>Archaeology project</i>. But alarms are also going off about this <i>rumor</i>. Considering she herself is involved in some underground sales. She would have to tread very carefully at this point. Very very carefully. She wishes Nate were here; he's always been the shrewd businessman factor in this game.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWU9YlB03zKpTTh7scCVRUFZfA0sNRBmsiI4Xu-PceQPPptFcq9MZ5s1eYDu4i3PSlkIjHxe2cnpfYp6J_fmpGVUXlSiIzMyGRiGuGb_IwG4-zD1xaKTvpRY43vp3Fr8nNJ8_tmdUQ5aDd/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWU9YlB03zKpTTh7scCVRUFZfA0sNRBmsiI4Xu-PceQPPptFcq9MZ5s1eYDu4i3PSlkIjHxe2cnpfYp6J_fmpGVUXlSiIzMyGRiGuGb_IwG4-zD1xaKTvpRY43vp3Fr8nNJ8_tmdUQ5aDd/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Choose your moves carefully Isabel. This is no ordinary game of chess you're playing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel decides to ask around town to see if anyone knows where she might be able to find some replica relics. Cheap knockoffs were big business for some of the merchants in Egypt, so perhaps here would be the same and lead her to secret black market sales. But where Egypt had plenty of tourists looking for a cheap trinket to decorate their home with Egyptian decor, Champs Les Sims did not seem to cater to the same sort of tourism. Most came here for the charming culture, food, and most of all - the nectar.<br />
<br />
The only relic shop in town is, not coincidentally, run by the Bonnet family. Isabel is quite certain Beatrice would not be sending her on a wild goose chase to uncover her own family's black market business since they are obviously part of the corporation.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJd4m_7SA4iBiH-c7_cStfkssiSeG7V8Sa1CBrAQgejYk9sCfOHtxVqRRIMSkrJ3dUYiApDde2EsRufv-QFG8W8GMLm2uvR-QaiPN3zFaHerX7DcxP1BvBv9-L-RMDk7kggjBHMt8BGR_S/s1600/Screenshot-69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJd4m_7SA4iBiH-c7_cStfkssiSeG7V8Sa1CBrAQgejYk9sCfOHtxVqRRIMSkrJ3dUYiApDde2EsRufv-QFG8W8GMLm2uvR-QaiPN3zFaHerX7DcxP1BvBv9-L-RMDk7kggjBHMt8BGR_S/s640/Screenshot-69.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bonnet family "Heirloom" Shop. Real (or are they?) artifacts, high prices, corporate ownership.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Asking around town did not produce any results at all. In fact, most of the locals seemed annoyed by her invasive questioning. They were suspicious of a foreign sim asking too many questions. It was apparently considered gauche to suggest tourism was even encouraged or catered to here, unless you were buying expensive Nectar, of course.<br />
<br />
Isabel is frustrated. She's not a private investigator, why is she being asked to do this sort of undercover work? Aren't her relic reconstructions and recoveries enough for those greedy bastards?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhDn7PavFMpWjL4mqAdhZzD1N4IoF4pL8Qt3kJm_1XsJxFds6LfWkSeuEb_3DSjYjL28f9vKoXUv9zdzFb1oxASROds87m61w5PHsMXe43TgOakHiUqX6RIMfYPTH77tMpf2h3HykdJiD/s1600/Screenshot-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhDn7PavFMpWjL4mqAdhZzD1N4IoF4pL8Qt3kJm_1XsJxFds6LfWkSeuEb_3DSjYjL28f9vKoXUv9zdzFb1oxASROds87m61w5PHsMXe43TgOakHiUqX6RIMfYPTH77tMpf2h3HykdJiD/s640/Screenshot-149.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">French woman: "Why would anyone care about old broken bits of pottery. Pffft! Non non non!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She checks the 'adventure board' outside the Inn where she stays as base camp. There's the usual ads asking for photos and tours, etc. But one ad catches her eye because she recognizes the name of the contact. It's the same name Cyriaque Duval gave her back in St. Claire. <i>Monsieur Yves Bernard</i>, local Nectar specialist and apparently a social organizer for the town. He's asking for nectar tasters at an event to promote historical nectar making and ancient types of nectar never before seen or tasted.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmoYuVAzKwy7mFHYMHawRIcfoTem_s9NeUUWo_Rq_p0BFSGQklEuD2Qg4jEnEv-rDGjzBmwFI20BJ-QQ6-JYlLD80E2JK51Evuoyfj39yGHGdJkT8zmAtSjpXCDIbYA0L8qxNQMA6gNPO/s1600/Screenshot-147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmoYuVAzKwy7mFHYMHawRIcfoTem_s9NeUUWo_Rq_p0BFSGQklEuD2Qg4jEnEv-rDGjzBmwFI20BJ-QQ6-JYlLD80E2JK51Evuoyfj39yGHGdJkT8zmAtSjpXCDIbYA0L8qxNQMA6gNPO/s640/Screenshot-147.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well this is somewhere to start at least."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
This seems as good a time as any to meet the contact she was recommended. Maybe he's involved and will know why she's asking when she tells him Monsieur Duval sent her there.<br />
<br />
Isabel is also suddenly aware of the food truck sitting suspiciously outside the Inn. Just like the ones in Egypt, it seems oddly out of place here in a small quaint town in France. Pretending to be adding some notes from the board into her tablet, Isabel sends a quick instant message to Nate, who happens to be online at the time.<br />
<br />
He says for her to go near it and talk, so he can see if he can pick up anything via the spy bear he planted in the one in Al-Simhara or through her own sim-pad si-fi connection. If his theory is right, all of the trucks are 'listening' devices and he should be able to hear through their network computers inside. It seems far-fetched, but Isabel gives it a try.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3qtw7TYsfEwTNUpd1p4hrR1wDc0ls2Uf-ayOjCTxnuFuhOBiWC3Eitjyopkzu5DcG-v0lKvpHfQmYpE8aogFK3PTxzNmxhMjdhM9AudbSCx7MnlJnWVlWtWOjInsshMqJBURWlSk0DbC/s1600/Screenshot-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3qtw7TYsfEwTNUpd1p4hrR1wDc0ls2Uf-ayOjCTxnuFuhOBiWC3Eitjyopkzu5DcG-v0lKvpHfQmYpE8aogFK3PTxzNmxhMjdhM9AudbSCx7MnlJnWVlWtWOjInsshMqJBURWlSk0DbC/s640/Screenshot-150.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Err.... Hello?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's message beeps in her pocket. She takes that to mean he got a positive trace on the frequency in the truck. She pretends to do a few stretches and jogs away casually as if nothing is amiss.<br />
<br />
The reply message from Nate says there's definitely tracking gear in that truck and she needs to steer clear of them. He also says there's a local man at the relic shop they are tracking right now, who may be an investigator. Isabel's bravery gets the better of her and she decides to meet with him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-PVdj16PuHU_7eOJKOuS9en-iA11taemSXQOjIeVk8-Pb4gucbD6xS_CE-8SqepJiVoBnJ5KAB4nEFvwLQVcmryHCfMq4oZXwm_3JscDQqLr1kJCisPK573vWavIimxe1nVMimHLRYZp/s1600/Screenshot-152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-PVdj16PuHU_7eOJKOuS9en-iA11taemSXQOjIeVk8-Pb4gucbD6xS_CE-8SqepJiVoBnJ5KAB4nEFvwLQVcmryHCfMq4oZXwm_3JscDQqLr1kJCisPK573vWavIimxe1nVMimHLRYZp/s640/Screenshot-152.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Bonjour!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The man Nate identified as connected to the trucks does seem strangely formal and dressed in an almost military crisp corporate suit. "Nondescript" comes to mind. And he's not french either from what she can tell. Introducing himself as "Adrien Langston." Isabel files the name away for future research.<br />
<br />
Adrien seems overly cautious about Isabel too, and they exchange pleasantries inside the relic shop. The topic of the shop is easy to tie in with casual conversation and Isabel drops a hint that she's looking for less expensive relics to take home as souvenirs and the prices in this shop are too high.<br />
<br />
Adrien does not disappoint her, and eagerly gives her a business card. Now she has a lead.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSviA50OcZt8x9W4zRA0MtNr8_kL8kXZ8wCKhr_syWjcGtvLP5OIL_pbVHgcHSwIbaBhoEs4MEw62timzDL5PY_2hMfUQNM6-LRcUmsrSnjFxIEpu5LA2l1wwaJ54LqLTX9V-09YvtIPPg/s1600/Screenshot-154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSviA50OcZt8x9W4zRA0MtNr8_kL8kXZ8wCKhr_syWjcGtvLP5OIL_pbVHgcHSwIbaBhoEs4MEw62timzDL5PY_2hMfUQNM6-LRcUmsrSnjFxIEpu5LA2l1wwaJ54LqLTX9V-09YvtIPPg/s640/Screenshot-154.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Thank you, I appreciate the reference and hope to do business soon!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
First, she has to figure out the connections. She feeds the details of her conversation back to Nate and he promises to do some digging on the names.<br />
<br />
Isabel changes clothes and heads out to the Nectary for the tasting event Duval's contact there is hosting.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHh7x5W4hJp3rChlYdBL-Tmy1qfoPD2_M8CmkpN7O5YIatGkyDxsV5R9G1PeVKkR5K2HVzsXwWvRsyNV2veJblMHiPzBcHBM6s1kw3OuO15gJ4hbjN0v_OnV5NrMH7qSkpMLWfB-L68ljP/s1600/Screenshot-91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHh7x5W4hJp3rChlYdBL-Tmy1qfoPD2_M8CmkpN7O5YIatGkyDxsV5R9G1PeVKkR5K2HVzsXwWvRsyNV2veJblMHiPzBcHBM6s1kw3OuO15gJ4hbjN0v_OnV5NrMH7qSkpMLWfB-L68ljP/s640/Screenshot-91.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Welcome to our nectar infusion event. Please come in and relax. Enjoy the flavorful delights within!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yves Bernard greets her and holds the door open for her, a perfect gentleman with a crooked smile and ruffled hair begging for a brush. Something about him reminds her of her Father, or an older Nate, and she instantly likes him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyghIjPrtk2BROU0OknyrgXy-_B9QuHcKPBYwGbrLvefK4E3A-U9Z0_98PK6JD6dwv64UAMeby1COELFJAYRi38S8LPOSZLzKKaGTO0DAp7E__tJYqCugOwE2lnkqMzxZR00ygtBiBI1Wy/s1600/Screenshot-94.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyghIjPrtk2BROU0OknyrgXy-_B9QuHcKPBYwGbrLvefK4E3A-U9Z0_98PK6JD6dwv64UAMeby1COELFJAYRi38S8LPOSZLzKKaGTO0DAp7E__tJYqCugOwE2lnkqMzxZR00ygtBiBI1Wy/s640/Screenshot-94.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Bienvenue, mon ami!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel has brought along the mysterious bottle of nectar she acquired down in the catacombs. She reads the inscription written on it before pouring it into glasses on a serving tray.<br />
<br />
<b>"heureux au jeu, malheureux en amour"</b><br />
<br />
("happy at the game, unhappy in love")<br />
<br />
Odd, but perhaps fitting for her current adventure, eh?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3S1UB2ZfuILZNhQjmd2KWQHUAJkF7uNlDgqXa8igsdS7U_HpKjv7V9Wz6AQpYdl7lNtkfLuGBBrCSlSezReLr4baKWmJR5lRsCUvubbZxQ9x76baYo5CP2027-U_akzMsdjbPkANqGMP/s1600/Screenshot-98.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3S1UB2ZfuILZNhQjmd2KWQHUAJkF7uNlDgqXa8igsdS7U_HpKjv7V9Wz6AQpYdl7lNtkfLuGBBrCSlSezReLr4baKWmJR5lRsCUvubbZxQ9x76baYo5CP2027-U_akzMsdjbPkANqGMP/s640/Screenshot-98.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well, here's to hopefully winning the game at least ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Maybe its his rumpled fuzzy sweater, quirky appearance with funny nose and bushy eyebrows, or his non-formal boyish demeanor that does it. Isabel isn't sure which it is, but she finds herself talking quite a long time with Yves over glasses of sweet nectar.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnRpjDIPCivv-LIYY1leRpk6FzfUy90maKkC5PdEJQwcssBkiB1F785pyMlE2nhyiICignE1AUjSYQKJQajCsCXeI_K5Eepww5fkeZARw7w0oiiP5vU_MSRG6dl6HFh4WDMiy73GdVPHZ/s1600/Screenshot-103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnRpjDIPCivv-LIYY1leRpk6FzfUy90maKkC5PdEJQwcssBkiB1F785pyMlE2nhyiICignE1AUjSYQKJQajCsCXeI_K5Eepww5fkeZARw7w0oiiP5vU_MSRG6dl6HFh4WDMiy73GdVPHZ/s640/Screenshot-103.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(If only Sims knew what we could see in those thought bubbles!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
While Isabel and Yves discuss good books, others are starting to feel warmed up by Isabel's unusual nectar ...<br />
<br />
And ... Isabel and Yves too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNCAK8MpJaWmdvpVrrqBeqLaJZszeuWZ-Jx_zy82yEqt7Y5ZAzu7hxLl_c5QSJ_4sYv8uIQLt0_9VCKzre2L2XNb6pDGHoxJJBEfKHhvlRL-lEtwawQGLkZe3hf_u-gURM7KlzAVITh5i/s1600/Screenshot-102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNCAK8MpJaWmdvpVrrqBeqLaJZszeuWZ-Jx_zy82yEqt7Y5ZAzu7hxLl_c5QSJ_4sYv8uIQLt0_9VCKzre2L2XNb6pDGHoxJJBEfKHhvlRL-lEtwawQGLkZe3hf_u-gURM7KlzAVITh5i/s640/Screenshot-102.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I must be moonstruck right now ... I feel so warm and fuzzy inside."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The glasses of nectar go down too easily one right after the next. Isabel's flirting with Yves seemed natural and so easy to do.<br />
<br />
Feeling light headed, Isabel loses herself to the sensations of strong (and maybe magic?) ancient nectar.<br />
<br />
Yves quotes her poetry over another glass ...<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Nectar comes in at the mouth</i><br />
<i>And love comes in at the eye;</i><br />
<i>That's all we shall know for truth</i><br />
<i>Before we grow old and die.</i><br />
<i>I lift the glass to my mouth,</i><br />
<i>I look at you, and I sigh."</i><br />
<br />
(- W.B. Yeats)*<br />
<br />
Isabel has no idea how she ended up in Yves' arms, but she didn't feel at all like stopping it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MqeJYWz7opCI5XxHOrLel4SSyGIf6x2bd-1eh-NmKt0dmseRnYVDtZ-nr0sQN1fuz5Kcrhf7263Jck0sdPMili_bz6gJfih5163IyMulmkQ-aImLM0cdtYNsYdo2q0uQKvjpHddMWl7h/s1600/Screenshot-106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MqeJYWz7opCI5XxHOrLel4SSyGIf6x2bd-1eh-NmKt0dmseRnYVDtZ-nr0sQN1fuz5Kcrhf7263Jck0sdPMili_bz6gJfih5163IyMulmkQ-aImLM0cdtYNsYdo2q0uQKvjpHddMWl7h/s640/Screenshot-106.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Kiss me."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
And she doesn't really remember having any objections to going upstairs to the Inn rooms of the Nectary. Romantic getaway suites designed for just this type of romantic encounter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqxTWww-kbC3HohlRNh8P35XQwJUfa3ZJ17lRXYgyGEE2dtYK8yjTWv8Xb5_TuJvwK0izM2cZ01AMdgmIl7NKS2yYcGJycQMBWS9efcwIK0dTiObvXQxeKbMj7A_Qr-cjwSpvazNGuw3O/s1600/Screenshot-109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqxTWww-kbC3HohlRNh8P35XQwJUfa3ZJ17lRXYgyGEE2dtYK8yjTWv8Xb5_TuJvwK0izM2cZ01AMdgmIl7NKS2yYcGJycQMBWS9efcwIK0dTiObvXQxeKbMj7A_Qr-cjwSpvazNGuw3O/s640/Screenshot-109.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel thinks, fleetingly, "<i>Am I really having a romantic fling</i>?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But the logical side of her brain, heavily subdued by nectar and woohoo, seems willing to admit this may have been the right time, and the right place. For now. Yves Bernard seems like an honest and open guy to Isabel, who has long kept her heart locked away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
For once, she just wants to relax and feel cared for and wanted.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSj7i_oqR9YpNRb5IWH64B_u_FrWzrHnohKB4hNpug5cXbtB35srV_Bnjv7Ys748guK8y-yCsjh1VvYx1uTIBj2Vr3a_8J7tsmWGotrne_J0YPKyTLkdpLbW78mao2XZRN9j7OLJ3td-PU/s1600/Screenshot-113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSj7i_oqR9YpNRb5IWH64B_u_FrWzrHnohKB4hNpug5cXbtB35srV_Bnjv7Ys748guK8y-yCsjh1VvYx1uTIBj2Vr3a_8J7tsmWGotrne_J0YPKyTLkdpLbW78mao2XZRN9j7OLJ3td-PU/s640/Screenshot-113.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You are most beautiful, mon amour."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
That night, back in her own bed at the Base Camp Inn. Isabel has a lot of Nectar-muddled dreams about Yves, her worries over MorcuCorp, and even about her Father. She has a lot of unresolved concerns about everything.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiv2dOBpdyb1fnVA3vWu5y3x4_63vlapFMkhEudUB9Ad3nJ9Xfq9Vf_hbSAziTofD2jw4zTJaEAOaGNOds14UTlx1FLbevvCdhfwe_th7g16MyQZGGO428QY2eecurmIyh9Rvx2Sg7M02/s1600/Screenshot-143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiv2dOBpdyb1fnVA3vWu5y3x4_63vlapFMkhEudUB9Ad3nJ9Xfq9Vf_hbSAziTofD2jw4zTJaEAOaGNOds14UTlx1FLbevvCdhfwe_th7g16MyQZGGO428QY2eecurmIyh9Rvx2Sg7M02/s640/Screenshot-143.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Commitment Issues" shining through in Isabel's dreams.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When she wakes up the next morning, she realizes she's made a mistake getting romantically wrapped up with a local who may or may not be somehow connected to her illicit operations. A professional Archaeologist does not engage in <i>risky business </i>of that sort while on the job!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ51ZP-OLhtHZqJfXLapGfuNLkIIEJ6ee7R57WTpOqF41UDu5SIr6PJzJ96K3n1_EQK_AsDkttRLTnCat5EHKn9vzjLrG5AFxLhMqssmuNpo0Ugy3J6-B_MPHd7jBSovPGo2QFi9H28HCS/s1600/Screenshot-144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ51ZP-OLhtHZqJfXLapGfuNLkIIEJ6ee7R57WTpOqF41UDu5SIr6PJzJ96K3n1_EQK_AsDkttRLTnCat5EHKn9vzjLrG5AFxLhMqssmuNpo0Ugy3J6-B_MPHd7jBSovPGo2QFi9H28HCS/s640/Screenshot-144.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ugh. What have I done?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Despite several voicemails she does not reply to, Isabel manages to avoid seeing Yves for the next week of her work trip. She stays focused and brings in many exciting new relics for the Bonnet family business, which of course feeds the MorcuCorp involvement. Isabel sends back less relics to St. Claire this time, despite Nate's insistence they can get top dollar with Duval. Something is worrying Isabel about it all and until she confirms who the Langston person is, and whether or not Yves is also involved, she needs to keep a low profile.<br />
<br />
Finally, she cannot avoid Yves anymore and needs to see him. Her trip will be ending soon, she'd been in France a long time.<br />
<br />
Nate's super sleuth work had uncovered that Adrien <i>Langston</i>, was an alias and he was actually Adrien <i>Landgraab</i>, son of one of the notorious Malcolm Landgraabs in the long line of their legacy. Nate isn't sure what involvement the Landgraabs have at this level in France or with MorcuCorp though its well known they have in fact had involvement with them or against them over the centuries depending on where the simoleons were found.<br />
<br />
Isabel doesn't know if she should give her info about Adrien and the spy-food-trucks to Beatrice Bonnet or if this will just be pointless since they are working in cooperation anyways. Nate suggests coming clean with Yves Bernard since he's Duval's contact. They need to know who he's in league with! Nate, of course, had no idea why Isabel is reluctant to go see Yves.<br />
<br />
But she goes to his house and puts on her brave face and rings the bell.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QwSm_4VA9eQgHqNC3lu0UFm5rHxhbG9KX7HbRGV4OjyZ9Uo_bBw8j2siUiNWNlXn2-xLdCRdDuc1h01uANV6J94GZY_316yjtt-HMiH27XxBydglQp65oS0JLvjlzfbXLcmWsiIt68LZ/s1600/Screenshot-71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QwSm_4VA9eQgHqNC3lu0UFm5rHxhbG9KX7HbRGV4OjyZ9Uo_bBw8j2siUiNWNlXn2-xLdCRdDuc1h01uANV6J94GZY_316yjtt-HMiH27XxBydglQp65oS0JLvjlzfbXLcmWsiIt68LZ/s640/Screenshot-71.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel is rarely <i>ever </i>nervous. Today is one of those rare times.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yves is so happy to see her, and doesn't even seem upset she hadn't returned his call. His genuine gregarious good nature is a huge relief to Isabel, who confesses she was quite nervous about seeing him again.<br />
<br />
Isabel learns that she is not the only one who is brave.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvfnUwJy_oGJLGZ7WKrb09FXo2DwwEWKh7-nmtq86zvk5xuTPr4bcq76yma5oPO5xfE6AUJhbgujXPbM_NW4nv1pYXcI_7cQ1BMTabVhfASp7sP9X2SdOW4jdp_tpD9_99hx9WE2dF9Fe/s1600/Screenshot-82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvfnUwJy_oGJLGZ7WKrb09FXo2DwwEWKh7-nmtq86zvk5xuTPr4bcq76yma5oPO5xfE6AUJhbgujXPbM_NW4nv1pYXcI_7cQ1BMTabVhfASp7sP9X2SdOW4jdp_tpD9_99hx9WE2dF9Fe/s640/Screenshot-82.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh that's awesome. I <i>knew </i>there was a reason I really liked being around you!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yves laughs, and assures Isabel there are a lot <i>more</i> reasons why she would like being around him if she got to know him, and not just because they went to bed together, though he's confident that was definitely a plus!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUB8LFj7DYf52qtazCFGSqy7Ja3cAEHsNQe5CVK63b20-0se4u4bmZRu653tOZUxSwYyoYFmg4DREdIsw4RJPZgviENCAdUBl_xU9PtXZcVFmyzzMMPwbvfyx8v0RXBFltMhWY5m5_YC_/s1600/Screenshot-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUB8LFj7DYf52qtazCFGSqy7Ja3cAEHsNQe5CVK63b20-0se4u4bmZRu653tOZUxSwYyoYFmg4DREdIsw4RJPZgviENCAdUBl_xU9PtXZcVFmyzzMMPwbvfyx8v0RXBFltMhWY5m5_YC_/s640/Screenshot-90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I know, it was fabulous for me too, but I am not going to pretend there's anything serious between us, agreed?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What a relief. Yves is not interested in a long term or long distance relationship. He just wants to enjoy her company while she's here.<br />
<br />
Finally, Isabel comes out with the real reason for her visit aside from wanting to see him again, of course.<br />
<br />
She tells Yves all about the food truck, the meeting with the undercover Adrien Landgraab, an obscure and quiet artist relatively unknown in the Landgraab legacy, and her concerns about Duval's connection to the Bonnet family and MorcuCorp. It all spills out in a long flurry of words, what a confusing mess!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUrwDRNEXpfbKUfmevN8KniYIuKX1wW6HEYtJcWCvZaNt40ZeXGuEUc4NOHfC7L6OrdP_SvWJeuE4ql8SeSJJwoXd4RJNVe3cWZCO9WmQ1X-hTSXGN4BFTfOFoG6neC8_9iTJ9d9tVOZR/s1600/Screenshot-85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUrwDRNEXpfbKUfmevN8KniYIuKX1wW6HEYtJcWCvZaNt40ZeXGuEUc4NOHfC7L6OrdP_SvWJeuE4ql8SeSJJwoXd4RJNVe3cWZCO9WmQ1X-hTSXGN4BFTfOFoG6neC8_9iTJ9d9tVOZR/s640/Screenshot-85.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And I just don't know who to trust. Even you, forgive me Yves, I just don't know what color pawn, black or white I'm actually playing against!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yves laughs and hugs Isabel tight. "I smile at your chess reference, but tis' true Mademoiselle, there is much to be concerned about and many <i>players </i>in this match."<br />
<br />
Yves goes on to explain in more detail who everyone is, at least as far as he can tell. He's a Nectar specialist, not relics, but he knows enough about the local 'business' to have agreed to work with Duval in sourcing clean relics, not copies and not black market.<br />
<br />
"Langston is the wild card here. If he is actually working with MorcuCorp, then that complicates matters a bit more," Yves smiles again and thinks carefully before continuing. "Duval, however, you can trust. He is actually a double agent working undercover to try and snag the kingpin leader of the relic black market. Your boss here, Beatrice, does not know you know of him, and in turn, Duval has promised her to '<i>keep an eye on you</i>' from St. Claire. Does that make sense now how he is connected?"<br />
<br />
Isabel tries to wrap all this intrigue and mystery around her brain. Genius or not, there's a lot of really confusing moves happening in this particular chess game! She nods and asks, "So does that mean the relics I've ...ahem, <i>acquired </i>on my own and sold through Monsieur Duval are off the record and safe?"<br />
<br />
Yves grins and kisses her. "Yes! Your brother is quite a clever businessman to find such a resource right under the noses of your employers!"<br />
<br />
Hugely relieved, Isabel agrees to spend the day on a date with Yves to celebrate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheTfXGSzWEoZ2eIIQoQxp3O-o1RH35Qz-2Y0R9EFa5ydvbzdMyuMwSCiSqYR4_6OhxKEWSqIGyAAWaZ-yfk-QnCWlSNCL1kzWjBUALxdU9_E87iMqMhItcg8TIyr0M9aIUTUGYXRq2Hu3/s1600/Screenshot-88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheTfXGSzWEoZ2eIIQoQxp3O-o1RH35Qz-2Y0R9EFa5ydvbzdMyuMwSCiSqYR4_6OhxKEWSqIGyAAWaZ-yfk-QnCWlSNCL1kzWjBUALxdU9_E87iMqMhItcg8TIyr0M9aIUTUGYXRq2Hu3/s640/Screenshot-88.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Would you do me the honor of dinner and a walk along the river Mademoiselle?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After a lovely dinner and walk, they stop to watch the stars together on the bridge that goes across towards Paris. The Eiffel Tower can be seen in the distance along with the Parisian skyline.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM4KESCWqdrg6JXtcRPcrGjAstrubhoTZzKmSbpPOK5MhSn_MhIoo7oh5ZIZ_fj2veszmdQrRiIy-83nmf1LrrHwkv4QK47-AhHL4FPQZx-CrDXI4LCT-snLHQBfSXeUcRB-G2Z_pQK38/s1600/Screenshot-117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM4KESCWqdrg6JXtcRPcrGjAstrubhoTZzKmSbpPOK5MhSn_MhIoo7oh5ZIZ_fj2veszmdQrRiIy-83nmf1LrrHwkv4QK47-AhHL4FPQZx-CrDXI4LCT-snLHQBfSXeUcRB-G2Z_pQK38/s640/Screenshot-117.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awww... how romantic. Yves is such a scruffy likable fellow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yves walks Isabel back to the Inn, and they sit for awhile and cuddle, and even make out a little. It's so much easier to be bold and carefree of what others think of you when traveling in a foreign country. You can be anything you want ...<br />
<br />
And right now, Isabel wants Yves.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_d0L1VfoqzuFiIzZmVczF4q8mc28qcLyWP5tySN099AsOFZKP7wzP5XwKgxntMYkI3l7BGncXoiMZdEQVwrbOaq87zyoKfUTzcGOhLQYRDs9S85D3mlD6eQh0x_KNx1QHdOm8T-f9ig5/s1600/Screenshot-133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_d0L1VfoqzuFiIzZmVczF4q8mc28qcLyWP5tySN099AsOFZKP7wzP5XwKgxntMYkI3l7BGncXoiMZdEQVwrbOaq87zyoKfUTzcGOhLQYRDs9S85D3mlD6eQh0x_KNx1QHdOm8T-f9ig5/s640/Screenshot-133.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is my last night here, please, take me to bed with you again ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Bold Isabel, spends the night lovemaking with her french lover, carefree and happy. And this time there was no magical nectar to cloud things. Just pure desire, and possibly a little love.<br />
<br />
But finally, all adventures end and Isabel's is nearly over. She and Yves promise to 'keep in touch' but that no serious commitments were expected as she never knew where her next adventure would take her or when she would be able to return to France. Yves agrees that when things settle down a bit in their future, he would like to come visit her and his old school friend Cyriaque in St. Claire.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vSsi7zzEza9CIWqeyCXOlNtYhhfYDA3fuoApjZt465bIRvoS_XniBUNSWuXn6PXKt8tg7aWaWoBAzr8jpqB0s-uUX_lKURnLMGtUPpz392MWZ2HdUaZLobTogJnAnCjjRxi6gKH_Sm11/s1600/Screenshot-139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vSsi7zzEza9CIWqeyCXOlNtYhhfYDA3fuoApjZt465bIRvoS_XniBUNSWuXn6PXKt8tg7aWaWoBAzr8jpqB0s-uUX_lKURnLMGtUPpz392MWZ2HdUaZLobTogJnAnCjjRxi6gKH_Sm11/s640/Screenshot-139.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I should like very much to see you again one day, mon amour ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
Isabel returns to St. Claire with a smile on her face, and much more confidence about her association with Duval. She trusts her instincts, and Yves to lead her the right direction. She makes arrangements to meet with Cyriaque the very next day after her arrival back in St. Claire.<br />
<br />
It's mid evening when the taxi drops Isabel off out front of her townhouse in the historic Bradford district of St. Claire. She's stretching her tired muscles and thinking how she needs to get the porch light bulb replaced. It's far too dark out front.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuVi0g5NwREbPLwsd7aAXeQJcd8GfwyK1-C8T0sqjA4RsGyfCVHX2YVPKgZSy2fQ9bpuKplIOriGeTqNa-v6_yZedQGUD8XEhCfYh1r584KZDtyuT3UEY3DP6XE-mqEWhnaPY5DPREQ9ZM/s1600/Screenshot-175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuVi0g5NwREbPLwsd7aAXeQJcd8GfwyK1-C8T0sqjA4RsGyfCVHX2YVPKgZSy2fQ9bpuKplIOriGeTqNa-v6_yZedQGUD8XEhCfYh1r584KZDtyuT3UEY3DP6XE-mqEWhnaPY5DPREQ9ZM/s640/Screenshot-175.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ugh, my neck is so stiff. I need a hot bath!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
She's thinking of her big business meeting with Duval tomorrow and how exciting it is to be on her way to comfortable wealth when she heads up the steps and nearly steps right on a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi86fzMbnxGG-81Yh9xzI5xGhrD1ukHB4QoDdg7towQqgs0KjXjcDbfqiaTTZsjVA-M6uAnHFnD0HUbQv-DkmEDms-Tev_Gl2NsxOhLffirRcti2hUKb2hmgetA_T21vwT-Xs-TPHi1VLeA/s1600/Screenshot-177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi86fzMbnxGG-81Yh9xzI5xGhrD1ukHB4QoDdg7towQqgs0KjXjcDbfqiaTTZsjVA-M6uAnHFnD0HUbQv-DkmEDms-Tev_Gl2NsxOhLffirRcti2hUKb2hmgetA_T21vwT-Xs-TPHi1VLeA/s640/Screenshot-177.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What - is ... <i>that</i>?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course, it's not a stray kitten.<br />
<br />
It's a <i>baby</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSPlQoB66vzr8rrWZjcVTe-0wAPesaE8H4dE7zbsq3rAW3M8xXQN2LQq5cRHB3Bg5N3Td1BCskER3B_3tlcyTmL5Hil2W1GMpYcXPqb63NtMtJNX1a7YhZS7UFRFYO5uuLJzHWE3PeDaY/s1600/Screenshot-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSPlQoB66vzr8rrWZjcVTe-0wAPesaE8H4dE7zbsq3rAW3M8xXQN2LQq5cRHB3Bg5N3Td1BCskER3B_3tlcyTmL5Hil2W1GMpYcXPqb63NtMtJNX1a7YhZS7UFRFYO5uuLJzHWE3PeDaY/s640/Screenshot-178.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh great. Just when things were going <i>perfectly fine</i> ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Onward to chapter <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/12/210-no-name.html">2.10</a> - "No Name" </b><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
Yay - a FUN cliffhanger this time! =)<br />
<br />
I hope you enjoy the suspense of this, and it surprised you. Of course, some of you may already be putting the pieces of the puzzle together and have your own suspicions. Don't worry, no spoilers in talking about it here if you want. I expect to release the followup pretty quickly this weekend as I'm going to be super busy next week and won't be able to write.<br />
<br />
Also, as necessary, it's important I give proper credit to the poem I took liberties with and changed the word <i>wine </i>to be <i>nectar</i>, to better fit with the Sims version!<br />
<br />
A Drinking Song, by W.B. Yeats (1865-1939). Responsibilities and Other Poems. 1916.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #000020; text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://www.bartleby.com/147/42.html">http://www.bartleby.com/147/42.html</a><br />
<br />
It's a poem I heard given as a toast once, and I've always loved it! It seemed so fitting for Isabel and Yves.<br />
<br />
Yes, Yves is a 'resident' sim of Champs Les Sims, and Isabel really did start flirting it up with him at the nectary. I decided to let her have her way, and her romance!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://sims.wikia.com/wiki/Yves_Bernard">http://sims.wikia.com/wiki/Yves_Bernard</a><br />
<br />
The Landgraabs are often named in connection with MorcuCorp though its uncertain why or how. I wanted another character who could possibly make a future appearance if the plot thickens more for Isabel's investigation. Nate's hunch was right, and the food trucks are in fact spy trucks!<br />
<br />
Adrien (Langston) Landgraab, btw, is the son of Malcolm Landgraab in the Xbox 360 version of the Sims3, which my own son played briefly.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://sims.wikia.com/wiki/Adrien_Landgraab">http://sims.wikia.com/wiki/Adrien_Landgraab</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-11004065828296367972012-12-06T21:28:00.001-08:002012-12-08T18:13:48.686-08:002.8 - Traveling at the Speed of LifeSt. Claire - City of lights, sophisticated lifestyle and cuisine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTYApGG3cccD4mPCLT6vr5IMIUfHoKk3Tvmn4rLTxHKCn4Asm5O7Fc11CS1zj6ifVLtxLtejQYnK5PGpChjtn4wlIN7W8vxutbETM83kFwH1zrPLFKr-A99aWwEu5lK9uthtXoHOq-Kuj/s1600/StClaire+sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTYApGG3cccD4mPCLT6vr5IMIUfHoKk3Tvmn4rLTxHKCn4Asm5O7Fc11CS1zj6ifVLtxLtejQYnK5PGpChjtn4wlIN7W8vxutbETM83kFwH1zrPLFKr-A99aWwEu5lK9uthtXoHOq-Kuj/s640/StClaire+sunset.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful sunset and moonrise over the city.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
It was also known for some of the better nightlife along the Simpacific Northwest coast ... and Nate, our budding teenage social networker, has just discovered how much fun it can be when you're on the VIP list!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcWy8a49OSeev0rU9QKcFqBN6YfqBZ3xt1ue89HHLyTYrncnBAExPmFJVFoDqyon3eTDtBTmXJr7GIdHF4s6eQ-MoH9b6dAGZZzrpeed8RVHFk7F0vMCLI_daYM3W5S76G8AAfGavkr0k/s1600/Screenshot-270+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcWy8a49OSeev0rU9QKcFqBN6YfqBZ3xt1ue89HHLyTYrncnBAExPmFJVFoDqyon3eTDtBTmXJr7GIdHF4s6eQ-MoH9b6dAGZZzrpeed8RVHFk7F0vMCLI_daYM3W5S76G8AAfGavkr0k/s640/Screenshot-270+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate discovers he has some mad DJ skillz!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The regular DJ even asked him if he wanted to come back a couple nights a week and spin records while he's off. Nate readily accepts. He might be developing the party animal trait!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR95JY25nxgGApb7LIwe4dgDvqGVg_PUkGiKWSRBYFIBrxSGANXeF5v7bxVVXhYMrjWRUAK8xv7p_GszrHehbbZXcHThRs9V6NZ2cWg-HByo1zEaRz57Pt48V9Pc0D-JCnBOr9ezpHmVp/s1600/Screenshot-275+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR95JY25nxgGApb7LIwe4dgDvqGVg_PUkGiKWSRBYFIBrxSGANXeF5v7bxVVXhYMrjWRUAK8xv7p_GszrHehbbZXcHThRs9V6NZ2cWg-HByo1zEaRz57Pt48V9Pc0D-JCnBOr9ezpHmVp/s640/Screenshot-275+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Awww-yeaaah, I could get used to this!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
He and Coco hit it off immediately. She thought he was really funny, in a childish way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATIx1XtHlmg2-k0L9Yf5nmSg2r4AXL_gj9oIDmdqtnu5i10B_nKmOleTn4uM5yJQeFqSJHbCOtk1BVfocToddGAlo7dAlGvLLIT27WD55WpqRerKChjcmjzUIswpQb_E7IVjDb4hiQGhQ/s1600/Screenshot-259+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATIx1XtHlmg2-k0L9Yf5nmSg2r4AXL_gj9oIDmdqtnu5i10B_nKmOleTn4uM5yJQeFqSJHbCOtk1BVfocToddGAlo7dAlGvLLIT27WD55WpqRerKChjcmjzUIswpQb_E7IVjDb4hiQGhQ/s640/Screenshot-259+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're a crack up Nate. This is the most fun I've had in a long time"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's so wrapped up in her online chess competition, she doesn't really pay attention to how late it is or even when Nate got home.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaagzGMaqL-iU_sPx-w6z9iYWmSta1gM12G1xx46DXOtebGatMWdPiZaRiPAoWQ3VpN8BnsEC-GMAtwTIX-AHU8Q-IHEywQk0PSdQM4jsP-DlPmwAZaW3Vtr_EkH2UDgwhu_UIhH3DQ1tI/s1600/Screenshot-278+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaagzGMaqL-iU_sPx-w6z9iYWmSta1gM12G1xx46DXOtebGatMWdPiZaRiPAoWQ3VpN8BnsEC-GMAtwTIX-AHU8Q-IHEywQk0PSdQM4jsP-DlPmwAZaW3Vtr_EkH2UDgwhu_UIhH3DQ1tI/s640/Screenshot-278+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're going DOWN buddy ... four more moves at most ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They discuss the next trip over a late night bowl of cereal and some online chatting. Nate casually suggests he might be better off staying behind in St. Claire this trip.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMSpDN0QZ2poO1WCRfGK3crZZY5RxHVPjCbuARXCqwzY0eJcLAVjF_B_At0fY8mRlRg74nymY-ZsD_hufiRjRenDu_8kLZTJ6YZ4nJQ43_Nw0Qphb-8yB3kW74wAtlaDAM6o9_Jm1WYR9/s1600/Screenshot-282+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMSpDN0QZ2poO1WCRfGK3crZZY5RxHVPjCbuARXCqwzY0eJcLAVjF_B_At0fY8mRlRg74nymY-ZsD_hufiRjRenDu_8kLZTJ6YZ4nJQ43_Nw0Qphb-8yB3kW74wAtlaDAM6o9_Jm1WYR9/s640/Screenshot-282+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What do you mean you don't want to go with me to France? Seriously?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate explains how being onsite with her may not be the safest tactic for their operations. If he remains here, he can more easily connect with their business clients and the networks are far more secure.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtcUJBn-msJnFa6Ma0usND_A87NTQGk5kti1iB6YnHkVfjAPj6dbor-y-MfNSS7ynSdrjkKSgoF77wpdVsW_jNueV8k1tsHMdROfa_hu0Ebcf8GucPzNOcu0T4mnQL_MlGnX1vi4h2is-/s1600/Screenshot-287+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtcUJBn-msJnFa6Ma0usND_A87NTQGk5kti1iB6YnHkVfjAPj6dbor-y-MfNSS7ynSdrjkKSgoF77wpdVsW_jNueV8k1tsHMdROfa_hu0Ebcf8GucPzNOcu0T4mnQL_MlGnX1vi4h2is-/s640/Screenshot-287+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's like ... living under a microscope in the computer world. You have to really be cautious and cover your tracks."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel gives this some serious thought, and of course, it makes logical sense to her, so she agrees.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsz6qrMqPHQKOYX3BVP7WxCaFuZEZd3S86UY-zUHgchtGCLvUBXWYk5AnK8WHRxKwV7qaCd1gLbX-FqwatVF8HfMDw9VZmSDCs2I2XAK7di03G7N_jBGZUdMwpkwWdcgly6H9V-mVXg644/s1600/Screenshot-283+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsz6qrMqPHQKOYX3BVP7WxCaFuZEZd3S86UY-zUHgchtGCLvUBXWYk5AnK8WHRxKwV7qaCd1gLbX-FqwatVF8HfMDw9VZmSDCs2I2XAK7di03G7N_jBGZUdMwpkwWdcgly6H9V-mVXg644/s640/Screenshot-283+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hmm... ok. I can see your point. Plus, you could meet with people here more easily as we upload the relic files."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Naturally, Isabel has some concerns about her little brother staying here alone. (She clearly has no idea just how much trouble Nate's intending to get into) Nate smoothly reassures her he can handle himself and that he's got everything covered.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrxKm_z3cqzbdKMTh1uGj_0rKT2x3bwlikZBKDHk3Jw6f557CJQgvTfXXZOTs-UYDVs_HAsgs3lPMNJt9xOujTZIt4cJaUnORJXAY4XrhD6kYjEGygnndEJXBTRW_QkYb0-KZ1Wd70oDS/s1600/Screenshot-289+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrxKm_z3cqzbdKMTh1uGj_0rKT2x3bwlikZBKDHk3Jw6f557CJQgvTfXXZOTs-UYDVs_HAsgs3lPMNJt9xOujTZIt4cJaUnORJXAY4XrhD6kYjEGygnndEJXBTRW_QkYb0-KZ1Wd70oDS/s640/Screenshot-289+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<i>No worries</i> sis, I can take care of myself and hold down the fort while you're gone."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course, there's the ever casually mentioned new nightlife hobby motivating Nate to want to stay behind as well. Careful wording helps downplay things a bit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRCdrjTQD6PfODVPL0HXyRlBQuU6ngiEoODoTFOn6Vz9Xi_W8DiT82XB4XAq_tn9SlZngcSuNmHF8T-b2cLzhSz8h2ti1ierxD78xe-HOSHa04dmtkcfIq8ihJ08b0JzGJ75En55GOgeW/s1600/Screenshot-292+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRCdrjTQD6PfODVPL0HXyRlBQuU6ngiEoODoTFOn6Vz9Xi_W8DiT82XB4XAq_tn9SlZngcSuNmHF8T-b2cLzhSz8h2ti1ierxD78xe-HOSHa04dmtkcfIq8ihJ08b0JzGJ75En55GOgeW/s640/Screenshot-292+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Besides, I've got a new gig making some digital music and I need a better computer setup here for sound mixing."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Smooth moves Nate.<br />
<br />
Plans made and reassured Nate can handle himself fine, Isabel takes off immediately for her next big job. She meets with her Mom for coffee, and asks her to keep an eye on the house (and Nate). Emma also sets Isabel up with some Parisian fashion for her trip as a "bon voyage" gift.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjKrVIy9Pl5eTEDWPUGJIy6hEfwDPljLax4ciZ3I39jtchluwXB8L3KUl5TU8sIEpCDvr2OmABSoZM2XVyNx6QosUcnvDtWcqrD-xvcJ1EeWbS2vOs6OU8hvSSg5PWtmu1W-YampUzhoe/s1600/Screenshot-171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjKrVIy9Pl5eTEDWPUGJIy6hEfwDPljLax4ciZ3I39jtchluwXB8L3KUl5TU8sIEpCDvr2OmABSoZM2XVyNx6QosUcnvDtWcqrD-xvcJ1EeWbS2vOs6OU8hvSSg5PWtmu1W-YampUzhoe/s640/Screenshot-171.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma holding her new kitten "Pudding" and wishing Isabel bon voyage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
~~~<br />
<br />
Arriving in Champs Les Sims, Isabel feels quite sophisticated in the travel outfit her Mom picked out. She's thankful her Mother is up on the latest Euro-sim fashions as she herself is clueless.<br />
<br />
The weather in France is much cooler than St. Claire, and the seasons were now changing. Isabel was thankful for matching hat, scarf, gloves and boots.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUccxP8p4PA52joBpx_WdsJ944Q0wMYQI9tjf_iQZF5fk-0JWAF-vBHEI9S3VXQq6fzTwHn-aUKwWyQkQXPBq_QZmhxYXNCrbZ8UFkwbfkq7iin9XwKuRzPXM6zzVwODhwGM-fgFPtWzvK/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUccxP8p4PA52joBpx_WdsJ944Q0wMYQI9tjf_iQZF5fk-0JWAF-vBHEI9S3VXQq6fzTwHn-aUKwWyQkQXPBq_QZmhxYXNCrbZ8UFkwbfkq7iin9XwKuRzPXM6zzVwODhwGM-fgFPtWzvK/s640/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"What a pleasant and inviting town. So different from Egypt!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Excited to get to work immediately, Isabel agrees to meet her new French 'contact' for relic operations at a nearby park to begin.<br />
<br />
France also had really cute little scooters to ride around town.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIYW1tJopsj00NhZaZSFgq1eehEQtFIa117bDfnzZL_DpdAVoWOV8Gnk1LCpfj6Og7Hl04RQr5MmFWAh9G1bRduz7q7XfAyMQ4R4xyiVFbb6xSeh_rRIhWFIlF0TruM1FxTC4EUBf5xgV/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIYW1tJopsj00NhZaZSFgq1eehEQtFIa117bDfnzZL_DpdAVoWOV8Gnk1LCpfj6Og7Hl04RQr5MmFWAh9G1bRduz7q7XfAyMQ4R4xyiVFbb6xSeh_rRIhWFIlF0TruM1FxTC4EUBf5xgV/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">(Some weird graphical glitch caused this one to have a neon green shine to it.)<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Beatrice Bonnet is nearly as abrupt and unlikable as Nabiya Lufti had been in Egypt. Isabel's starting to wonder if this is a routine method for management in Morcucorp's secretive relic trafficking or was she just unlucky to get two bad apples in a row?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Xynk0cXft7gDkphO-yGkdqNTmWxb8JcLTP18AY-b8fcAb6p-VQxW8ltfbpZPF411I7_HHGWq39qlTaW9c3b7nswRzVlvnjDXboYw9sUiq0WzkD1YV2A4dwg9SWxSydC4To87wDXGKfAH/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Xynk0cXft7gDkphO-yGkdqNTmWxb8JcLTP18AY-b8fcAb6p-VQxW8ltfbpZPF411I7_HHGWq39qlTaW9c3b7nswRzVlvnjDXboYw9sUiq0WzkD1YV2A4dwg9SWxSydC4To87wDXGKfAH/s640/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Careful introductions and job negotiations are required. The French are a much more uptight lot overall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Beatrice instructs Isabel on how to enter the catacombs beneath the nectary to retrieve a very important item she has left there and to recover any unknown relics deeper inside. Word of Isabel's success in Egypt had reached the French team and they were eager to get their hands on ancient artifacts.<br />
<br />
Isabel's counting on getting her own hands on a lot more than they'll know exist.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih471zWOfVTAUkI8CE2Kut9APQqaa1bVlRTShe2orQ3E4I1TpmBOMUmOyOmMejGz7mDDESwlWqJzCLaYMfcOrznwXj16LwFZpUEoLPY3V7p3yKQZ09bRO0fIPSR5PUk3fMkAom-G1xHrd4/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih471zWOfVTAUkI8CE2Kut9APQqaa1bVlRTShe2orQ3E4I1TpmBOMUmOyOmMejGz7mDDESwlWqJzCLaYMfcOrznwXj16LwFZpUEoLPY3V7p3yKQZ09bRO0fIPSR5PUk3fMkAom-G1xHrd4/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Lets get busy!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The object Beatrice wants her to find is easily located on the first floor of the cellars. A baseball.<br />
<br />
Really?!<br />
<br />
Isabel inspects it carefully and decides there is definitely something odd about this <i>baseball</i>. So, she leaves it behind in a small sack by the steps to retrieve on her way out as she delves deeper into the lower levels.<br />
<br />
While definitely easier to navigate and less dirty, back-breaking work, the french catacombs are darker and somehow a lot more sinister feeling than the pyramids of Egypt.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsJCvL7wGEDXZvYO-wN70mBmJqZgCfjPvBLZ9nWtzdTyH7yD2Y8vfsCen5JAnrkTOgbarKTLkubcD5vkoInl1Esrsi-323HKnZ93f54lirND1vPebUrTlZHtVuJG51yL1B1lgyS-2r0EX/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsJCvL7wGEDXZvYO-wN70mBmJqZgCfjPvBLZ9nWtzdTyH7yD2Y8vfsCen5JAnrkTOgbarKTLkubcD5vkoInl1Esrsi-323HKnZ93f54lirND1vPebUrTlZHtVuJG51yL1B1lgyS-2r0EX/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"This is an easy one ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel isn't quite sure how to describe the feeling of cold, dark silence here - but the sense of wonderment at uncovering a new hidden passageway and secret rooms full of treasure never ceases to amaze her sense of adventure and wonderment.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW9LeDsigtC41NSL6j8E1JjdhG1C53TF9idjlHpq_kDLXkRCGtvkYd36u7RCZAcdC2rm0m7OaAUVnqRIh_sbimDWgNsPTDTkK-c91WVivi2ywOtVQtN6DsEgFZFvDpsQGufbLqyUT7hcb/s1600/Screenshot-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW9LeDsigtC41NSL6j8E1JjdhG1C53TF9idjlHpq_kDLXkRCGtvkYd36u7RCZAcdC2rm0m7OaAUVnqRIh_sbimDWgNsPTDTkK-c91WVivi2ywOtVQtN6DsEgFZFvDpsQGufbLqyUT7hcb/s640/Screenshot-31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Woooooah ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The sense of cold uneasiness gives way to curiosity and reflection as Isabel unlocks a hidden room by reconstructing a heart shaped keystone most unobservant explorers would have missed.<br />
<br />
The words reflected in the blue glow read:<br />
<br />
"<em style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;">L'amour fait les plus grandes douceurs et les plus sensibles infortunes de la vie."</em><br />
<em style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;"><br /></em>
<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;">Her french is somewhat rudimentary at best, but Isabel is able to translate it to roughly mean:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;">"</span><span style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20.96666717529297px;">Love is responsible for the greatest pleasures and the worst problems in life."</span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hXHB6kesumNlPyfidFenmI9ikhxtrb08pkX08aGVVsLtaUMM-ROAAjkEmqSSAW84ozDHN1VvbOPmU_CZAqQWRxu_Q91XHIvOb8VrGbNuLm5HUZekbSUDBkEL7rg4M3LwenzXKysPCIso/s1600/Screenshot-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hXHB6kesumNlPyfidFenmI9ikhxtrb08pkX08aGVVsLtaUMM-ROAAjkEmqSSAW84ozDHN1VvbOPmU_CZAqQWRxu_Q91XHIvOb8VrGbNuLm5HUZekbSUDBkEL7rg4M3LwenzXKysPCIso/s640/Screenshot-33.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"I will definitely take that advice to <i>heart </i>and remember it."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Long passageways and dark musty rooms provide many more treasures for Isabel to collect.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp1RKJ0DzjRmMlkH1WCNI-lzDRwhqmVsWuZniPhQKeKgtaZaplDtsmWN1zwQFTQkZWK598y4NMn5mEuwuB0nrk7_EcP-0hLZUH5GNUYazbqdgT8xjOGRYFbvAVP9mPr6scWW1TwIWu05h/s1600/Screenshot-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp1RKJ0DzjRmMlkH1WCNI-lzDRwhqmVsWuZniPhQKeKgtaZaplDtsmWN1zwQFTQkZWK598y4NMn5mEuwuB0nrk7_EcP-0hLZUH5GNUYazbqdgT8xjOGRYFbvAVP9mPr6scWW1TwIWu05h/s640/Screenshot-34.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">This statue seems to be peering over his shoulder and saying "Hey that's MY LOOT! Hands off lady!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Crates upon crates of ancient Euro-sim pottery and artifacts are revealed stored in the silent cold crypts. Isabel catalogs as much as she can for later retrieval and takes the best examples for her inventory.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TV7_kadm7wptKpAiL65QSja32YFnA74C669S_4RFVsMexePCmpEstF_T6seZ-qHgJVAzigqgP5VECzyXiy9iAx2OqVdKizmhnAN07pex_68MXAn9RhU5HlA6n1tQfbJeVbcHxXGpW1L6/s1600/Screenshot-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TV7_kadm7wptKpAiL65QSja32YFnA74C669S_4RFVsMexePCmpEstF_T6seZ-qHgJVAzigqgP5VECzyXiy9iAx2OqVdKizmhnAN07pex_68MXAn9RhU5HlA6n1tQfbJeVbcHxXGpW1L6/s640/Screenshot-36.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Jackpot!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next level holds a very curious tomb. Strangely realistic but obviously artificial shrubbery is designed in a maze of some sort. Throughout the maze are found various ancient relics and even more strangely, super rare bottles of nectar are scattered about. The connection to the Nectary is obvious, but who is the stranger this tomb belongs to?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4x_1rp4PSqlJy2l40IiznsmY1JvQfOksRdOofpZ8rdwTJv2s_Bx1mScl8OKUXmeAuKUnMx0WSnuwuhn97XdEOnZFKonDHZa79UyLtDFV7kKTyUuYKJ9Q0jn-4xRCzv7tppWiX0dgLDIys/s1600/Screenshot-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4x_1rp4PSqlJy2l40IiznsmY1JvQfOksRdOofpZ8rdwTJv2s_Bx1mScl8OKUXmeAuKUnMx0WSnuwuhn97XdEOnZFKonDHZa79UyLtDFV7kKTyUuYKJ9Q0jn-4xRCzv7tppWiX0dgLDIys/s640/Screenshot-39.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Hmmm... this is curious!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not a relic, but seemingly left here so invitingly. Isabel wants this bottle of nectar!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4cy7AZVQdlRZomaOzJ7gOjr7wlzahvC2yycP87A54hgezxM2I3vsuPs6NL3bp-bNBXL4XM2kuXb9ydJDZ1Bj3bi6A0NWl3rUCPf75Nwj2tvuNuac586J-Z_PyO5orV-YAu2nWS6y5Ig-/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4cy7AZVQdlRZomaOzJ7gOjr7wlzahvC2yycP87A54hgezxM2I3vsuPs6NL3bp-bNBXL4XM2kuXb9ydJDZ1Bj3bi6A0NWl3rUCPf75Nwj2tvuNuac586J-Z_PyO5orV-YAu2nWS6y5Ig-/s640/Screenshot-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">One of those brief moments where your Sim seems aware of your presence, and says ... "What. are. you. looking at??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Upon reaching the gravestone at the center of the maze, Isabel reads the inscription and is suddenly overcome by a moment of both guilt for what she's doing for a living as well as sorrow for the loss of her Father.<br />
<br />
The tomb reads:<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b>“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,</b></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b> love leaves a memory no one can steal.”</b></i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITSEQnE1XlUhp2VkgFzHiik4oSFjc_odEoj599pVPp6RLntTf1Jt4uxP9ZM_-4KDoPf3dwwz8ylzjJMZy4sBVfcXnCMjY9mDsI53n_hM7K5F3QWYMSIHTzo_g4eEAUPK77bfeAaTxTh9l/s1600/Screenshot-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITSEQnE1XlUhp2VkgFzHiik4oSFjc_odEoj599pVPp6RLntTf1Jt4uxP9ZM_-4KDoPf3dwwz8ylzjJMZy4sBVfcXnCMjY9mDsI53n_hM7K5F3QWYMSIHTzo_g4eEAUPK77bfeAaTxTh9l/s640/Screenshot-43.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Oh, I'm so sorry!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Crying over the tombstone mysteriously opens a hidden switch location!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrMDZH0XgPMnGvRnUyDH9f50j3HxuWR4dJTqEBnnDxGoOoWT2eOl3Vrnh9lMmIRUwGMhhwnRJTNSVQpJ3qAPpBDh9sdyQyJnPrMRkeFZWHyO_R6IJS30ZvHb0GKHPW6u8LevNHszZAMXz/s1600/Screenshot-47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrMDZH0XgPMnGvRnUyDH9f50j3HxuWR4dJTqEBnnDxGoOoWT2eOl3Vrnh9lMmIRUwGMhhwnRJTNSVQpJ3qAPpBDh9sdyQyJnPrMRkeFZWHyO_R6IJS30ZvHb0GKHPW6u8LevNHszZAMXz/s640/Screenshot-47.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"That was unexpected."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Isabel regains her composure and brushes off the predictable creepy crawlies inside the hole to locate the switch.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mVRrWsV9koiirKiMjEAB4dMsPuZjlHhGDLy-VmT3AGyxDJGlBfVJzObL7OxQkiAM3X1fOJvrX5uGOoGwD9bkzv5mDV-nqe9Fo1fwI_5bhqioiAmFv5dGfPmZdVzJ-R_oUd5AXlmlJ7FI/s1600/Screenshot-50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mVRrWsV9koiirKiMjEAB4dMsPuZjlHhGDLy-VmT3AGyxDJGlBfVJzObL7OxQkiAM3X1fOJvrX5uGOoGwD9bkzv5mDV-nqe9Fo1fwI_5bhqioiAmFv5dGfPmZdVzJ-R_oUd5AXlmlJ7FI/s640/Screenshot-50.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">"Ugh. Come up with something better than bugs!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Descending into a very creepy hidden tomb ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4a2PRpXCRppBVQEzLb6Dib1f7_mDPAFVx3zlHdpW7LFuiltgUO4_jLmk3GnVZs41FQQJ8YgnWExnNFwD1i64BBnzUZbHeK5hqKLQLob9Wl5wSRja6BW3fGB5am_O0oY_UhmwYRwELnscO/s1600/Screenshot-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4a2PRpXCRppBVQEzLb6Dib1f7_mDPAFVx3zlHdpW7LFuiltgUO4_jLmk3GnVZs41FQQJ8YgnWExnNFwD1i64BBnzUZbHeK5hqKLQLob9Wl5wSRja6BW3fGB5am_O0oY_UhmwYRwELnscO/s640/Screenshot-37.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">"Did you die for this gem brave ancient Sim?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
And through yet another series of secret hidden panels to the final tomb beyond ...<br />
<br />
Isabel gasps in awe at the dazzling display of mystical lights and treasure near the graves.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPex3g9Bk5ilBNt252iXHv3Cx3vG0BBeBZbSxziGPN-y_MKDQLJmm0q4qYspC0yed19Zzxb96uLtYXospecKXUd3PWdcNjDU3FA2maFIimtvMUIQ-aGB3WSwf1Eipv6n9P7f7UXsTeSWZK/s1600/Screenshot-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPex3g9Bk5ilBNt252iXHv3Cx3vG0BBeBZbSxziGPN-y_MKDQLJmm0q4qYspC0yed19Zzxb96uLtYXospecKXUd3PWdcNjDU3FA2maFIimtvMUIQ-aGB3WSwf1Eipv6n9P7f7UXsTeSWZK/s640/Screenshot-55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"This is epic!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She retrieves more treasure and another conspicuously placed ancient bottle of nectar.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjZiwtWUpTfOY-9HMWKpcddj3VLDZKmC7j5cxDUBuZYhNalo6xuFvIR1ROwyoCzbo7ibXmgdnlwGoeAsP2jCvzk_bsywf_kOUcmnLspFTZWCV8qwvD3J0SGXbjHXjDbsA9aXBImM4GVX_/s1600/Screenshot-56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjZiwtWUpTfOY-9HMWKpcddj3VLDZKmC7j5cxDUBuZYhNalo6xuFvIR1ROwyoCzbo7ibXmgdnlwGoeAsP2jCvzk_bsywf_kOUcmnLspFTZWCV8qwvD3J0SGXbjHXjDbsA9aXBImM4GVX_/s640/Screenshot-56.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Our "Tomb Raider" gains many rewards and riches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Her inventory of treasure grows and grows ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGMZfFHt4CN9uBpA55c7eVY6n21sWmHhcQbgGNa7Ft71_p6JtLtBZt90XctvsX3myvyQGS9wUh4N0sIMGfZR1OeC-GF90TV_sCkHSABSdWcXG3L8cGRJyJ_2AsMpVdS_5oROOLbaNLEF_/s1600/Screenshot-60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGMZfFHt4CN9uBpA55c7eVY6n21sWmHhcQbgGNa7Ft71_p6JtLtBZt90XctvsX3myvyQGS9wUh4N0sIMGfZR1OeC-GF90TV_sCkHSABSdWcXG3L8cGRJyJ_2AsMpVdS_5oROOLbaNLEF_/s640/Screenshot-60.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">"You, my fine friend, are going into my personal collection"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Isabel thanks the ancient keepers for their treasures and concludes her exploration. On her way out she pauses to reflect and wonder if what she's doing isn't somehow just as bad as Morcucorp plundering these riches for themselves. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAT-jbKfNDhN22Z9gzcFF7KH8zUdYwXXSStIkhWdgYSqmxsIMA8eE4lxmKed4GbGTtZTJk-UCj9E6XAHXLmW56OCNsUx7v4ccLXcCTQsLqCEZtWsPDE8kJgHi464lSUspbkZgoUGZEdS-T/s1600/Screenshot-58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAT-jbKfNDhN22Z9gzcFF7KH8zUdYwXXSStIkhWdgYSqmxsIMA8eE4lxmKed4GbGTtZTJk-UCj9E6XAHXLmW56OCNsUx7v4ccLXcCTQsLqCEZtWsPDE8kJgHi464lSUspbkZgoUGZEdS-T/s640/Screenshot-58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"<span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">Moral obligation seems a fleeting concern in the face of great adventure, and science of course!"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Returning to town late that evening, Isabel meets with Mademoiselle Bonnet, who is anxious to hear about more than the recovery of her baseball it seems.<br />
<br />
And her shop seems weirdly eerie and green after the dark depths of the catacombs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuz1wOl2tGkjho5Kvuz9Q7UqDWLdxF_2e8a96SLwKfyifqOhX368HS7L8IIfG7HmnUaqUUSXWFIcuVdAzrIBBE3OQ_lW-3z1aEMKttDh9AGN8LczQdCg9sfctQaFe81AyVx5CM3yKo5_IX/s1600/Screenshot-62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuz1wOl2tGkjho5Kvuz9Q7UqDWLdxF_2e8a96SLwKfyifqOhX368HS7L8IIfG7HmnUaqUUSXWFIcuVdAzrIBBE3OQ_lW-3z1aEMKttDh9AGN8LczQdCg9sfctQaFe81AyVx5CM3yKo5_IX/s640/Screenshot-62.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"I don't know ... there seemed to be little else further below but some musty old crypts and a few bottles of nectar ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel hands over the oddly precious baseball and casually asks what such a seemingly worthless item would be doing down there and why.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXMwgbb3YWmthY8Hdt48kKKbwljTtmAu8rY-BJvKRO2xkPXHkk-_VNqjOQoJkCgN6Ek3Azv94pMhDOM2J-VBxlH_t5GU1xUpDTtOxy6DPiwlAMU4PfcThmm214lkt5WGpqtNHXbP4GU1M/s1600/Screenshot-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXMwgbb3YWmthY8Hdt48kKKbwljTtmAu8rY-BJvKRO2xkPXHkk-_VNqjOQoJkCgN6Ek3Azv94pMhDOM2J-VBxlH_t5GU1xUpDTtOxy6DPiwlAMU4PfcThmm214lkt5WGpqtNHXbP4GU1M/s640/Screenshot-65.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">"Give me the ball please ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Isabel shrugs and is about to leave when Beatrice says something that makes Isabel stop in her tracks.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
"Yes, its just a baseball. A very ... <i>special </i>baseball. Thank you."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Hadn't she just heard Monsieur Duval the underground relic dealer say that same thing about those weird color changing jellybeans?!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Coincidence. It had to just be coincidence, right?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswtWEkHJzDNGHhk-Zkxon-XddSogSYsWMqE8QJa1UDbPLHrzmEPY2GMopq1xsoWOprhy0T2EUZnFvwR0NKNJxaRcrIhTyrFGgwPCtnYFdwVcnaztA-idplQ9Fy0qcrUSvyxP_yOIE0KkQ/s1600/Screenshot-64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswtWEkHJzDNGHhk-Zkxon-XddSogSYsWMqE8QJa1UDbPLHrzmEPY2GMopq1xsoWOprhy0T2EUZnFvwR0NKNJxaRcrIhTyrFGgwPCtnYFdwVcnaztA-idplQ9Fy0qcrUSvyxP_yOIE0KkQ/s640/Screenshot-64.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"Thank you and now your extended Visa level will allow you a longer stay. There is much work to be done Ms. Twist."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It seems she has passed her 'test' phase of the operation and will now be sent on more intriguing missions over the coming weeks or months even. Isabel hopes Nate can take care of himself this long, but that only worries her for a brief moment. There's so much to do in preparation for her next assignment here.<br />
<br />
Isabel has some time on her hands between now and then, so she decides she'll get to know the locals, the countryside, and meet with the man Cyriaque Duval sent her to see while here as well.<br />
<br />
There's also lots of time for some side projects. Digging for relics in the fresh air and scenic countryside is a nice change of pace.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxzhAm6XuF1hk58Px9KcPFamWeohvjeFareUqzrJYM6V08YpKKMYt_OrtekAse1dT8Q_vhTC3g5y4iDDtS3W4fAQM1l9bfGEqFcg1RDQRfAMxMuEA1iCYmIaby2y9TSCio4MTmNjd3tT5/s1600/Screenshot-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxzhAm6XuF1hk58Px9KcPFamWeohvjeFareUqzrJYM6V08YpKKMYt_OrtekAse1dT8Q_vhTC3g5y4iDDtS3W4fAQM1l9bfGEqFcg1RDQRfAMxMuEA1iCYmIaby2y9TSCio4MTmNjd3tT5/s640/Screenshot-25.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">"This batch of relics will take weeks of work to analyze and reconstruct."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, back in St. Claire. The other half of the Twist enterprise business duo is busy managing his own... <i>affairs</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65Quh-SL8H40ybd5sJjriAvitGmQuEnKSs5XP3Whrc_1t5ZHNPeZlngxLT9QGgG-DV0uDSJl5ivejVg57aiQoOwrmsLyXvvBi5qQbIhGfEp6r-mpLQ6Lt7MTBgbrkl6VixPKZU1Ogs-mJ/s1600/Screenshot-371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65Quh-SL8H40ybd5sJjriAvitGmQuEnKSs5XP3Whrc_1t5ZHNPeZlngxLT9QGgG-DV0uDSJl5ivejVg57aiQoOwrmsLyXvvBi5qQbIhGfEp6r-mpLQ6Lt7MTBgbrkl6VixPKZU1Ogs-mJ/s640/Screenshot-371.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Yeah ... we didn't see this one coming, did we Nate? =)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
To Be Continued ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/12/29-nectar-comes-in-at-mouth.html">HERE</a>! (Chapter 2.9 - "Nectar Comes in at the Mouth")</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Notes:<br />
<br />
Another fun tomb exploration chapter! I mixed up the sequence of events in the french catacombs so as not to be a 'walkthrough' of how it's done. There was only one minor spoiler in there, sorry!<br />
<br />
The idea behind this chapter was to convey a sense of diversion between Nate and Isabel now that Nate has grown older and starting to find his own way in the world and test the limits of that world. It's often hard to convey a sense of time passing when in reality Sims lives play out over days instead of years!<br />
<br />
Nate and Izzy remain close, don't worry. They will re relying on one another for a long time to come yet and things for both of them are soon to get very interesting. I know I hinted at romance, but I had to get through some of these setup scenes and tomb exploration first. Romance (and other surprises) are in next chapter, I promise!Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-60948526168406099872012-11-30T22:19:00.004-08:002012-12-06T21:44:12.614-08:002.7 - Risky BusinessThe day they get back from Al-Simhara, Isabel's barely out of the taxi and she's already planning her next big trip. She doesn't care much about the downtime and business side of things, she just wants to go! An email arrived asking if she'd be willing to do some archaeology research in Champs Les Sims, a small historical town outside Paris. How exciting!!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnH4zRC-G14W5liCXyRdZ589HU9AsrI-k4HqGhyphenhyphentSHAR-C4Nu0UyWnF_pt3aIV59koYlZxAeylQ6_p7mQi9XoKiyrJj6Wf3gKIATHk3fb2GSBTz1FlNRPNEdDg0nNJUDCu03NRRFtaUMtN/s1600/Screenshot-39+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnH4zRC-G14W5liCXyRdZ589HU9AsrI-k4HqGhyphenhyphentSHAR-C4Nu0UyWnF_pt3aIV59koYlZxAeylQ6_p7mQi9XoKiyrJj6Wf3gKIATHk3fb2GSBTz1FlNRPNEdDg0nNJUDCu03NRRFtaUMtN/s640/Screenshot-39+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"France next on the list for this adventurer!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's birthday was set the day after their return from Al-Simhara too. Being an ambitious Sim, he decides to spend part of his last day as a kid working on his business savvy skills at the park next to their house. He sets up a baked goods sale table ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBzkxSJJx0h1M-ss-vqoLm6vr_ef6VHCyWDWts7nm2gr9aM_RkFTopxMAG2esvZB55j58jDHEvpdIq905XonbLrBmGucPXRex2vvfmHAjfDgITrw5q28_yfPkvowSEl5rLW9OLsNElpNn/s1600/Screenshot-3+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBzkxSJJx0h1M-ss-vqoLm6vr_ef6VHCyWDWts7nm2gr9aM_RkFTopxMAG2esvZB55j58jDHEvpdIq905XonbLrBmGucPXRex2vvfmHAjfDgITrw5q28_yfPkvowSEl5rLW9OLsNElpNn/s640/Screenshot-3+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The way to be a sharp businessman is to always look for opportunity"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But there weren't any baked goods for sale.<br />
<br />
Except one ...<br />
<br />
Nate, standing inconspicuously behind his empty table, hears her introduce herself to the sim on the other end of the line as "Coco Pie" ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JLiLgb5JBJG41HnRG3iyMl7WLpgli3H7sO_uLf0O7tne76i6BFQe987azATxUWalqihq8WuYGujL-9rqx7jUopzp9QZxRuw8WlKCzd9BTvX06vHQp73rAOoCZQu1aNFAIaIH_Y5x-BnF/s1600/Screenshot-2+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JLiLgb5JBJG41HnRG3iyMl7WLpgli3H7sO_uLf0O7tne76i6BFQe987azATxUWalqihq8WuYGujL-9rqx7jUopzp9QZxRuw8WlKCzd9BTvX06vHQp73rAOoCZQu1aNFAIaIH_Y5x-BnF/s640/Screenshot-2+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yeah ... I'm here where you told me to be. There's just some kid with a bake sale. I don't see any dude or chick lookin ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Annoyed, the pretty dark skinned teenager slaps her cell phone shut and tosses it in her hand bag and paces around nervously, chewing her gum and eyeing Nate while pretending to look bored.<br />
<br />
Nate, being ever the opportunist, decides to introduce himself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvQedrJlShL4jwtgxoE-9ZSYEK0CxEHMBLX3MorTZe6T7LJi_2hSrMuMQbNOf-0XpaJIfw805Wn8n7Zh49h5JeXcdPVeAO8E4SHvjsnHxejs-iaArXS6njV4z5L8KqrbkASKGyJw7kGyX/s1600/Screenshot-6+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvQedrJlShL4jwtgxoE-9ZSYEK0CxEHMBLX3MorTZe6T7LJi_2hSrMuMQbNOf-0XpaJIfw805Wn8n7Zh49h5JeXcdPVeAO8E4SHvjsnHxejs-iaArXS6njV4z5L8KqrbkASKGyJw7kGyX/s640/Screenshot-6+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hail pretty lady in distress - do you need assistance? I am the Term1Nate0r - who are you?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"I'm Coco."<br />
<br />
"Is that your real name?" Nate asks innocently. "Yeah - of course it is", she grins at him. "Is that <i>your </i>real name?"<br />
<br />
Coco eyes Nate suspiciously, "Ain't you supposed to be in school right now?" and Nate assures her he's right where he's supposed to be but quips back "Are you where <i>you</i> are supposed to be?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah ... well, looks like my '<i>date</i>' is late." she sighs and leans against the fence, checking her phone texts again before waving it at Nate's table and asking, "Where's all your stuff for sale anyways?"<br />
<br />
Nathan, ever the clever monkey, explains that he's simply surveying the foot traffic here for potential sales before actually putting anything out, and making sure there wasn't any potential risk or danger of alien abductions in this area.<br />
<br />
Coco just rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head in confusion. "I gotta go kid."<br />
<br />
"Wait ...here." Nate hands Coco a small, hand written 'business card' and tells her to call him if she's ever in trouble. He has no idea why he just did that, but Coco looks at him oddly for a minute and laughs. She tucks the card away. "Sure thing sweetie. If I ever need a <i>kid</i> for a boss, you got the job!"<br />
<br />
Nate puffs up and tells her its his birthday tomorrow, he'll be 13 and that's plenty old enough to do business.<br />
<br />
Coco nearly chokes on her gum. "Honey you ain't got a clue what kinda business I'm in," and saunters off.<br />
<br />
It's getting dark, so Nate packs up his table and heads across the sidewalk to their little backyard, adjacent to the park. He stops to take a peek in Isabel's telescope. He can't help it, he has to spy on this strange girl to find out what she's up to!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiit8u74MLOtchKrlCTzvA96W43gK9BquHVmbCztESbumGVpsT8TqRF6PO4FUvQVMiOXLrIuDztqxhTjCsQlDnUL7Ik2jvlfP-VuocyKOWBm4bh3NuI-VB42-XcgWCmmCJthHoeHX6Zth1W/s1600/Screenshot-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiit8u74MLOtchKrlCTzvA96W43gK9BquHVmbCztESbumGVpsT8TqRF6PO4FUvQVMiOXLrIuDztqxhTjCsQlDnUL7Ik2jvlfP-VuocyKOWBm4bh3NuI-VB42-XcgWCmmCJthHoeHX6Zth1W/s640/Screenshot-28.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Who is this girl and who does she work for??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He can't hear their conversation from here, but he watches as Coco's 'date' apparently shows up, as well as some woman arguing with her about something.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VITz6CPY-XdbqcrFqHN8dN3MuqnGDr_ObuF9LTD2jEhs5CjJrVclv9QvQz19LG3gw6j_wTxoYWHCSd-eBsu1eQooH8-bLoiUAHwgjI60hcrmnmD-8HDJSE2Xc98Umv12az1c9gbsGMRl/s1600/Screenshot-12+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VITz6CPY-XdbqcrFqHN8dN3MuqnGDr_ObuF9LTD2jEhs5CjJrVclv9QvQz19LG3gw6j_wTxoYWHCSd-eBsu1eQooH8-bLoiUAHwgjI60hcrmnmD-8HDJSE2Xc98Umv12az1c9gbsGMRl/s640/Screenshot-12+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate suddenly realizes this girl isn't as old as he thought she was ... the others are adults, she's only a teen!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The older woman seems to be pressuring Coco about something. At first, Coco is all smiles and agreeable.<br />
<br />
Nate wishes he could hear (I'm glad he cannot) !!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSAn1Qz6oLDb0Z5_WfLcZXnqdqUFpdb3HTf3D9HjgKNGCRv6DuHgMl8jBv56Q2ht08gsPb9iZp6IOz9-T3LQ7brIcc64OjJuEIXpfi2qHmtvqGTC_2wqUlwnuvlUdG20TbHXJCWGrgYj7/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSAn1Qz6oLDb0Z5_WfLcZXnqdqUFpdb3HTf3D9HjgKNGCRv6DuHgMl8jBv56Q2ht08gsPb9iZp6IOz9-T3LQ7brIcc64OjJuEIXpfi2qHmtvqGTC_2wqUlwnuvlUdG20TbHXJCWGrgYj7/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some sort of deal is being made ... Nate's familiar with how this sort of thing goes down ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But then, the 'dude' as Coco called him, starts to ask her some things, and Coco becomes visibly upset.<br />
<br />
Whatever he's asking her to do, it isn't good.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrH0llgDeDxDOQNk3iqs7B_vkeugsCHlEZNMI36taKZHkICSNO05EdZuZDQbl9ok4FRzwywbD3mCfyZTGTfIjMxhZixWgl8JBH9nDnJ_-zp0OqwsHHCGuMef9an0ouJICaS1_s5ZY5QY0/s1600/Screenshot-9+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrH0llgDeDxDOQNk3iqs7B_vkeugsCHlEZNMI36taKZHkICSNO05EdZuZDQbl9ok4FRzwywbD3mCfyZTGTfIjMxhZixWgl8JBH9nDnJ_-zp0OqwsHHCGuMef9an0ouJICaS1_s5ZY5QY0/s640/Screenshot-9+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This time, even without being able to hear, Nate can tell she says "<i>NO WAY</i>!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4BjQl9iestVBXHvuHIqM6v5I8scwe3gptQaBY4-tKiM7OpiWPbHasWlIx0C5ntVivSOxp0r3Q4JIEyzpVp9PobwO16bOIp-rEByAV1QDDpIiH857M5xV9z9Va6p1m1I1huG3V9F2BZCx/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4BjQl9iestVBXHvuHIqM6v5I8scwe3gptQaBY4-tKiM7OpiWPbHasWlIx0C5ntVivSOxp0r3Q4JIEyzpVp9PobwO16bOIp-rEByAV1QDDpIiH857M5xV9z9Va6p1m1I1huG3V9F2BZCx/s640/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Coco don't go there, <i>no way</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The woman seems to be trying to both coerce Coco while calming the 'dude' down ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2fF7Ywxx9CVH4X7m1y73TdHhX9cw6wciCJgHYm_lbAXStf4y2bPwtogIyEbkwCi0WssOBiJjWieTfyMy_y5Duh1Y3a-F_4JjTjX4oDROvaWw6RxgTmj6JjAH5QFV0usHm2KHfgAECFO2/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2fF7Ywxx9CVH4X7m1y73TdHhX9cw6wciCJgHYm_lbAXStf4y2bPwtogIyEbkwCi0WssOBiJjWieTfyMy_y5Duh1Y3a-F_4JjTjX4oDROvaWw6RxgTmj6JjAH5QFV0usHm2KHfgAECFO2/s640/Screenshot-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A deal gone wrong?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
'Dude' sufficiently rejected, slumps off down the street.<br />
<br />
Coco and mysterious woman talk a bit more and head off in the opposite direction, laughing.<br />
<br />
Nate has no clue what just transpired there in their tiny park, but he has a good hunch it was illegal, whatever it was. Perhaps St. Claire would end up being quite a profitable place to do business afterall!<br />
<br />
(Oh Nate my little dear, not <i>that </i>sort of business!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4bjaM87gbZ74KdWZ84UHGqC9kSlmJOC2kpFQQXplts6nIPEdfQloM_kmLoEbzeGM_NFczfO6n3H8P6I_9HMxmsmqzwpdlL9krAGuhqVU3Vej8e1S1n_lOCH5hI_eYUPZrSGMHFf2F6bN/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4bjaM87gbZ74KdWZ84UHGqC9kSlmJOC2kpFQQXplts6nIPEdfQloM_kmLoEbzeGM_NFczfO6n3H8P6I_9HMxmsmqzwpdlL9krAGuhqVU3Vej8e1S1n_lOCH5hI_eYUPZrSGMHFf2F6bN/s640/Screenshot-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate stares blankly out the window that night, thinking about life, about his parents, and oddly, about Coco.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next day is Nate's birthday and Isabel's got big plans. They go shopping for starters. They buy a lot of cool things to decorate the house with, as well as a new wardrobe of 'city clothes' so they feel more at home in their new life.<br />
<br />
Isabel's Mom helps them with their shopping, encouraging her daughter to glam up a bit more, especially with an upcoming trip to France, where fashion was <i>everything</i>. Isabel plays along, and picks out some modern fashion for doing business in St. Claire. She also stops by a bakery Emma recommends and picks up a cake for Nate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMcpBBT8BafTjjQiNyfTkq4P-tNbaqIhYMSD7HxPsPHPd8Kg0od60fBMeYwnE2yJ5B3_CdmZdPZMqs-iXEDYnHoqm2QpxbQvW-gSw7mlWuSuPWoqR_kJFAXNO2O6BGCL3MXx5HH3nQ4wrv/s1600/Screenshot-226+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMcpBBT8BafTjjQiNyfTkq4P-tNbaqIhYMSD7HxPsPHPd8Kg0od60fBMeYwnE2yJ5B3_CdmZdPZMqs-iXEDYnHoqm2QpxbQvW-gSw7mlWuSuPWoqR_kJFAXNO2O6BGCL3MXx5HH3nQ4wrv/s640/Screenshot-226+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You ready for the next big stage, lil' brother?" ... "Oh yeah" grins Nate. He was <i>born ready</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sadly, they haven't been in the city long enough to really make any friends yet, so Isabel celebrates Nate's birthday with him alone. She hams it up for him anyways.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-aOcPJAS1tAiD8H-loO__F9g6Z_yDg36vQBYmEK9A1PcQ88eBQ-lwm4FvXRIvqFHf0aksHxPSOnnAl99oMDT5_KH_t0vnpWa4YQyf58V-tkMdRq6C8JN2NwnTbk-wi_SrWCjbwqFfFn9Q/s1600/Screenshot-235+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-aOcPJAS1tAiD8H-loO__F9g6Z_yDg36vQBYmEK9A1PcQ88eBQ-lwm4FvXRIvqFHf0aksHxPSOnnAl99oMDT5_KH_t0vnpWa4YQyf58V-tkMdRq6C8JN2NwnTbk-wi_SrWCjbwqFfFn9Q/s640/Screenshot-235+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please sim goddess, make my sister choke on that stupid horn!" - Isabel: <b>TOOOOOT!!</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And the sparkles tickle up his spine as he grows ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0no-0AiPDUOBCC2AyWLSHhFZsHSeGCMrvSajo9qtBRJaD5jRzE1iKaC4uQEnuaqYXXmz1wRhv4OzxuyUzZHA93OF5CoA1Qd96Bde4duko0H_lyrhIXdu3g41aPQYAuNxuK8UuwkyvZp3/s1600/Screenshot-236+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0no-0AiPDUOBCC2AyWLSHhFZsHSeGCMrvSajo9qtBRJaD5jRzE1iKaC4uQEnuaqYXXmz1wRhv4OzxuyUzZHA93OF5CoA1Qd96Bde4duko0H_lyrhIXdu3g41aPQYAuNxuK8UuwkyvZp3/s640/Screenshot-236+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Woooooah...."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And grows ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivG_IejPoYmw9zNH6KeRsWmDvwSSZvVYq6cPBzUh7CTjTo-uNbjgNHUsBbls5xZLe0G_y_uFgo0f7RzEfpj7vNCaUA_csddaMzPmW8-_Vu12pKBjQmdhfDWv2UQx8z3CGndpGsAZzegLVn/s1600/Screenshot-237+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivG_IejPoYmw9zNH6KeRsWmDvwSSZvVYq6cPBzUh7CTjTo-uNbjgNHUsBbls5xZLe0G_y_uFgo0f7RzEfpj7vNCaUA_csddaMzPmW8-_Vu12pKBjQmdhfDWv2UQx8z3CGndpGsAZzegLVn/s640/Screenshot-237+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Happy Birthday Nate!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan ages into a rather handsome young man. Same swooped over auburn hair, but his eyes have become more piercing blue and his features are strong and serious, with adorable kissable lips.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajh19_xl6JU2xiYQl0tM7WEzS54YKTQZBRTdDRR-vaWLbIXz9cPNRUp8KMMHBL2NrqOrc62sDQY8CwSIztyW2-HkDozkdJOhFTqspD7EhntD7gfIqhSho0DHS9s308GPiIFbqs5kSg64Q/s1600/Screenshot-239+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajh19_xl6JU2xiYQl0tM7WEzS54YKTQZBRTdDRR-vaWLbIXz9cPNRUp8KMMHBL2NrqOrc62sDQY8CwSIztyW2-HkDozkdJOhFTqspD7EhntD7gfIqhSho0DHS9s308GPiIFbqs5kSg64Q/s640/Screenshot-239+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Holy crap Nate, you're kinda hot!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i>Sorry readers, Sim Goddess Envie is quite smitten with how Nate turned out (completely unassisted I'll add, except to re-add his original hairstyle).</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>You will have to endure another Eye-candy shot.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27M4qy7U66z58KNYWFlaIBmp85dDTMxiU4Pvyx2AsuhgcP57s2wN2Pwn0GbRIXabk84gmKpeBrDC1EbaQA3XLlu0JgsD0AXl1BHEncst3cJaskvryXu2aovBruTPyXBHGa7dpU2DQO0tu/s1600/Screenshot-241+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27M4qy7U66z58KNYWFlaIBmp85dDTMxiU4Pvyx2AsuhgcP57s2wN2Pwn0GbRIXabk84gmKpeBrDC1EbaQA3XLlu0JgsD0AXl1BHEncst3cJaskvryXu2aovBruTPyXBHGa7dpU2DQO0tu/s640/Screenshot-241+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He definitely got his Mom's side of the family on the big hooked nose and the blue eyes! In fact, I see very little of Simon in there at all other than hair color and kinda squinty shaped eyes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel squirrels away in her newly set up 'Laboratory' in the basement. This was one of the main things she spent simoleons on in the house instead of furniture and other junk.<br />
<br />
Here, she can spend her time poring through old historical records of artifacts and analyzing her relics to see how old they are and how much they will be worth.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyf5XrMJGH8RDt7JqeL-Dfd6AH6X07FwMyghc0TyNV8OFGDWlX3e6uSBQoj9wn9xVNPx1uw7muiA70Ha-HA4c4sKaW0Rt94TodVVVlbi_iTUzYOghv7m4N3C5eJT3Vg6taNCxowCgHuEC_/s1600/Screenshot-229+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyf5XrMJGH8RDt7JqeL-Dfd6AH6X07FwMyghc0TyNV8OFGDWlX3e6uSBQoj9wn9xVNPx1uw7muiA70Ha-HA4c4sKaW0Rt94TodVVVlbi_iTUzYOghv7m4N3C5eJT3Vg6taNCxowCgHuEC_/s640/Screenshot-229+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of good lighting, cabinetry, shelves for treasure, a computer for research, and chem lab for carbon dating relics!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Along with daily rounds of online chess, Isabel has added a passion for stargazing to her list of 'logic' pursuits that her genius brain requires (as well as the "live your trait" generation roll!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Wcaz5Z-Kf0oCyUxKCzEYLIijfOPYKyeSMpik0MNemc55LZU9PUDPHcM9__4fCFXLSASr7lgUE_n4MDURGkO3xNtLa8nlhY5IIWaqu1z09GBQWGmY5GCXizcn0l-lPWMN5PXyyIrDcKws/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Wcaz5Z-Kf0oCyUxKCzEYLIijfOPYKyeSMpik0MNemc55LZU9PUDPHcM9__4fCFXLSASr7lgUE_n4MDURGkO3xNtLa8nlhY5IIWaqu1z09GBQWGmY5GCXizcn0l-lPWMN5PXyyIrDcKws/s640/Screenshot-38.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Astronomy keeps Isabel's brain in top shape and she loves it since she gets to be outdoors too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel even takes a stab at that weird thing called "dating" ... but the guy her Mom set her up with (one of the junior chefs at her cafe) turns out to be a completely <i>wrong </i>match. So much for blind dates. Scratch that one off the '<i>been there done that</i>' list ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJd06iiy1Zvz0vqC2-qgxOc31MHZYmsbEIHXvOh23ml3UBOtZVCZ5x_X8V1FLgrNQY8UySnOhsVzyRTC4roQT0PXObbIyxzdafJ8hPplTLqEJIYN_RC3O6wU-s8Jsc1-KNQLEvPPChqi3/s1600/Screenshot-85+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJd06iiy1Zvz0vqC2-qgxOc31MHZYmsbEIHXvOh23ml3UBOtZVCZ5x_X8V1FLgrNQY8UySnOhsVzyRTC4roQT0PXObbIyxzdafJ8hPplTLqEJIYN_RC3O6wU-s8Jsc1-KNQLEvPPChqi3/s640/Screenshot-85+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That awkward moment where you realize you're both polar opposites.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Next item on the agenda, Isabel follows the address Nate gave her for an arranged meeting with a relic dealer who has checked out clean (no morcucorp involvement) and is willing to do business with Isabel for her treasure trove brought back from Egypt.<br />
<br />
Arriving at the strange, out of the way building to a place dubiously called "The Dragon's Lair" - Isabel wonders if Nate set this odd chance encounter purposely or was it fate?<br />
<br />
There ... in plain view outside the entrance, is the remains of a creature Isabel has long dreamed of ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgByjVBaDjVzpaVdheYTjrFB_bcAZ8S95BQ1eZfr3sc7GIgwweg3zcgfDg6CMha55xnUBJkoio7LEU-HdAOX7CfgCphL2etNVc4WO0zbfB4Mc5tZCWrIExN0u2D-YHN3xSd0OBg12fXtqfb/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgByjVBaDjVzpaVdheYTjrFB_bcAZ8S95BQ1eZfr3sc7GIgwweg3zcgfDg6CMha55xnUBJkoio7LEU-HdAOX7CfgCphL2etNVc4WO0zbfB4Mc5tZCWrIExN0u2D-YHN3xSd0OBg12fXtqfb/s640/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The object of all my childhood fantasy book obsessions!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ok, small for a dragon, and probably not even real - but Isabel is excited nonetheless!<br />
<br />
Twist of Fate has led her to this place ...<br />
<br />
And ... to - <i>this guy</i>?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUbXJvTMA6qOf2vYsQnFUXdzaLhD5F5QuaywiBrbXOKPIdQFVqSCmu2aagiK-63yuq7R1RktVSSXGzttDLnWXjRTGe73tATSoAOKXkzanWUB2BkE1RViETRMNTvNNPLjeW6oSEEBV4ocy/s1600/Screenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUbXJvTMA6qOf2vYsQnFUXdzaLhD5F5QuaywiBrbXOKPIdQFVqSCmu2aagiK-63yuq7R1RktVSSXGzttDLnWXjRTGe73tATSoAOKXkzanWUB2BkE1RViETRMNTvNNPLjeW6oSEEBV4ocy/s640/Screenshot.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Errr ... hello?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel shakes the man's hand as he introduces himself as Monsieur Cyriaque Duval, a distinguished Frenchman and Dealer in fine antiquities and artifacts. This was his building, which also housed a coffee house and gaming shop for fantasy table top roleplaying as well as the more mundane gaming pursuits. It also happened to be a well known Supernatural hangout, if you were interested in the stranger sorts of Sims.<br />
<br />
Isabel raised an eyebrow and the scientist kicked in. "Do you realize you are a vivid shade of yellow Monsieur Duval? ... And that woman back there looks like a blueberry!"<br />
<br />
Cyriaque kept a deadpan straight face. "Why yes, in fact, I do. Slight mishap with jelly beans. Very ... <i>special </i>jelly beans. Give me a moment to regain my normal appearance, my office is on the top floor, I will meet you there in 15 minutes."<br />
<br />
Isabel decides to get a snack from the coffee shop, which is decorated in very elegant Euro-Sim fashion. The barista introduces herself as "Maddie" and seems fairly normal in every way. No Supernaturals hanging about.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyw3qJ0iMzbUX-XP4pI7GZajwQMZseXCPx0dOpvH7YlYCfoelyaW3lzY7rUr09Q9WiWH-3zGpFn9h6RZow8ZfBKwDF8P2RpG2vcPBFgzMWmG9nWRxu8NY9pXqJ00PGYumA0u5q0ecC_HOJ/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyw3qJ0iMzbUX-XP4pI7GZajwQMZseXCPx0dOpvH7YlYCfoelyaW3lzY7rUr09Q9WiWH-3zGpFn9h6RZow8ZfBKwDF8P2RpG2vcPBFgzMWmG9nWRxu8NY9pXqJ00PGYumA0u5q0ecC_HOJ/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delish!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She then wanders her way up to the third floor, passing by chess and dominoes gaming rooms, what appears to be an alchemist shop, and an arcade.<br />
<br />
In a tiny attic room hardly big enough to be an 'office' at all, Monsieur Duval has many strange oddities on display. He arrives just ahead of Isabel and heads to his register to begin cataloging her file folder of relics.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzD5td1-ooBPedCvWIZX5psUj5Ko4XiSKvdqED5-Gs_2Gf3QNAxWGJaFWn0R7y1O3fTtI5f0-vs__ZcsZsOmkZQCdAZYMjBwob4_YEifvM0lpvKc5kD8qTOqCiTDXd8G5LpQfxDall5AEd/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzD5td1-ooBPedCvWIZX5psUj5Ko4XiSKvdqED5-Gs_2Gf3QNAxWGJaFWn0R7y1O3fTtI5f0-vs__ZcsZsOmkZQCdAZYMjBwob4_YEifvM0lpvKc5kD8qTOqCiTDXd8G5LpQfxDall5AEd/s640/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please, do come in M'lady - you are welcome here!" (Isabel loves the formalities he gives)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Yes, yes, I understand your hesitancy. You have been rubbing shoulders with the most despicable low-lifes in the underworld of the relic black market. And I am fully aware who your employers are. I am not concerned with that at this time. Your clever little brother may have done a thorough background check on me, but I assure you I have done the same for you."<br />
<br />
Isabel is slightly taken aback by Cyriaque's abrupt and lengthy introduction speech.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1sNEMspmmRMmH89bY0j-xB0jiReSWJNHDr6FRTW_wWmp2AOejsOY77ojbMApyqBuiYf6heQr4OfaCU7QaEcUWNixyYYXW0U7Pv5WrjsSRaO1ObsdVnIajaEXcFlgu1aocUUu0MP4LeR_/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1sNEMspmmRMmH89bY0j-xB0jiReSWJNHDr6FRTW_wWmp2AOejsOY77ojbMApyqBuiYf6heQr4OfaCU7QaEcUWNixyYYXW0U7Pv5WrjsSRaO1ObsdVnIajaEXcFlgu1aocUUu0MP4LeR_/s640/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel hopes Nate's right about this guy ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She laughs nervously, and explains that this is all very new to her and that she was very surprised by how everything went down in Egypt. She doesn't really understand it all yet, but she believes in her brother's recommendation and hopes they can do good business together.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57ea1z3EAEjdHEB0N795v5SNI2ljrwGclL7kPwW5jAQaJm9E5u6dS98JqHIXHHNvlnCScqfNWUlCpSDFZzp4RRQAozyNFgoMlBB6x0HlZ6eftWZuDSiHazSC1D01yh7gNyJaCX3B4awYa/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57ea1z3EAEjdHEB0N795v5SNI2ljrwGclL7kPwW5jAQaJm9E5u6dS98JqHIXHHNvlnCScqfNWUlCpSDFZzp4RRQAozyNFgoMlBB6x0HlZ6eftWZuDSiHazSC1D01yh7gNyJaCX3B4awYa/s640/Screenshot-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I want to remain as removed as possible from my ... err... <i>employers </i>in my personal dealings."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cyriaque again reassures her that he has no desire to do business with large corporate entities and is a proud small business owner who has contacts all over the world. His clients are very sophisticated and have selective tastes in expensive artifacts for their private collections. He even gives her a personal reference for someone in Champs Les Sims, when she tells him she is going there next.<br />
<br />
"My business clients prefer very discreet purchasing, far from prying eyes. We remain on the fringe of so-called '<i>big time</i>' relic thievery such as Morcucorp deals in." His lips purse in a distasteful sneer.<br />
<br />
Isabel decides she can trust this man, despite his odd way of speaking and uptight mannerisms. The list is reviewed, and Cyriaque decides which relics he wishes to purchase. Isabel promises to deliver them all within the week, as she is still analyzing, cleaning and reconstructing some in her lab.<br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
While Isabel spends days holed up in her laboratory, Nate is growing restless as a newly hatched teenager.<br />
<br />
He decides to follow Isabel to the Dragon's Lair to make sure her meeting goes smoothly.<br />
<br />
While checking on some of his auction listings, and information from Cyriaque, a familiar voice speaks up nearby ... "Hey sugar, don't I know you?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTAA8d151tZPopx1Mjx5d4XQp8x54vMi6Cqoe24x3URHwMkpk7r5xuI6Ljv-D9sS2HT5C-5RB66k61SucisdjyYAdgpduJhvuqjMzW4iHeTR6sNlmTO3i8T2Flz1VSQNTV_Ooh56nEl5s-/s1600/Screenshot-258+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTAA8d151tZPopx1Mjx5d4XQp8x54vMi6Cqoe24x3URHwMkpk7r5xuI6Ljv-D9sS2HT5C-5RB66k61SucisdjyYAdgpduJhvuqjMzW4iHeTR6sNlmTO3i8T2Flz1VSQNTV_Ooh56nEl5s-/s640/Screenshot-258+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">** <i>"Then there she was ... like Disco Lemonade - yeah there she was ..." </i>**</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's Coco. She seems as surprised to see Nate as he is to see her. He looks a lot different (older) to her, but suddenly he <i>feels </i>a lot different about her ...<br />
<br />
Ooo La la ...<br />
<br />
(Cue Music)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/-KT-r2vHeMM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
(Coco's arrival into the story was inspired entirely by an old favorite of mine by Marcy Playground)<br />
<br />
Coco slides into the empty barstool next to Nate and props a boot up on his leg, grinning at him slyly.<br />
<br />
"Hey you said if I ever needed help to ask. Well seein' as you're some kinda computer geek, I could really use your help gettin' into a special club tonight. Wanna help a girl out?"<br />
<br />
Nate, always up to a challenge, asks what she has in mind. Seems all she wants is on the VIP list to the Black Box, a private club downtown. Easy enough.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_KacZW0BOjqi4eRk3-WHnzZAVBSxjNzf9KBhA5Ywq26pvvNElU1yrhSt4oUC0zamGo7z0Rq2CdJD9EaddHlVVkwGqj1lh1YfI4mVG_8ZksrrH28VJMd9yfJ73JzIC7Rci7uvg0V3FZzo/s1600/Screenshot-256+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_KacZW0BOjqi4eRk3-WHnzZAVBSxjNzf9KBhA5Ywq26pvvNElU1yrhSt4oUC0zamGo7z0Rq2CdJD9EaddHlVVkwGqj1lh1YfI4mVG_8ZksrrH28VJMd9yfJ73JzIC7Rci7uvg0V3FZzo/s640/Screenshot-256+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You are one cool cat <i>Term1Nate0r" </i>Coco laughs and pours herself a drink.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Hacking is a relatively recent hobby for Nate, having just reached the ability to do so. This is good practice.<br />
<br />
Adding Coco's name (and his own too) to the venue VIP list was a cinch. Outside as they're leaving, Coco stops to ask Nate about Isabel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtCV_uT_1WyHunarAr72XhRr6xrex6clsF-lvWhfZrwLjgrZvPencyA_leZ11rvoZmPMIfRiP3nRnvUKhSAouM7gap_DOXpHAM2OZxibHs_aBhWoDOwtC7deYqbMJKEGGelxsge8QCGLs/s1600/Screenshot-251+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtCV_uT_1WyHunarAr72XhRr6xrex6clsF-lvWhfZrwLjgrZvPencyA_leZ11rvoZmPMIfRiP3nRnvUKhSAouM7gap_DOXpHAM2OZxibHs_aBhWoDOwtC7deYqbMJKEGGelxsge8QCGLs/s640/Screenshot-251+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What about your girlfriend in there, she gonna get pissed?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate laughs. "That's my <i>sister</i>, and no, she doesn't care. I'm my own person, she's not my parental unit."<br />
<br />
Getting past the bouncer was even easier with their names on the list.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SJMjOBvKzvfhpJ8IjGB1htVlpSkS5VoNinUBe5C3XDw6CxtpyQk3ufeOsNxL482MzkuSO8ra_ztfWaS2FIf4IAsWANUemYPDFbaLioOxeTetPK2Om66EPXQxhlR3hETQI-Np5sacrItN/s1600/Screenshot-266+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SJMjOBvKzvfhpJ8IjGB1htVlpSkS5VoNinUBe5C3XDw6CxtpyQk3ufeOsNxL482MzkuSO8ra_ztfWaS2FIf4IAsWANUemYPDFbaLioOxeTetPK2Om66EPXQxhlR3hETQI-Np5sacrItN/s640/Screenshot-266+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sure honey... you and your date look a little young, but your names are on the list. Go on in..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate has a sudden feeling this is really part of his calling ... get into the fast paced world of business or entertainment and live the life of a city hipster!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFzxLiSISAhb6QV2LpauLrXzhayz1qKR69pe4cy3VMtXBnDfACRy4FdH11NUZQlrK-A9teHkilYAmtk9h4OTW9yesP85X6E_cSLODnjcyySTUFSnLXZjxp1_UTTmh4XErWtyAHQ5ZL2hE/s1600/Screenshot-267+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFzxLiSISAhb6QV2LpauLrXzhayz1qKR69pe4cy3VMtXBnDfACRy4FdH11NUZQlrK-A9teHkilYAmtk9h4OTW9yesP85X6E_cSLODnjcyySTUFSnLXZjxp1_UTTmh4XErWtyAHQ5ZL2hE/s640/Screenshot-267+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I could seriously get used to this!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
If only Nate knew just how dangerous "Coco Pie" could possibly be to his big dreams.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir01WS0R7_bRysizPxqYVJsvpdRt68SWGHROeQ2TY8Wd3bx07QsJhxIsJ-szVJ8pFWtj9Xt-HTa9b_YbH9kzAbx5guHviTqY5cKTWD0KfXR9SJfA4Ek4g3ktLx2_HoLzI8dQSu7l4xYO8o/s1600/Screenshot-265+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir01WS0R7_bRysizPxqYVJsvpdRt68SWGHROeQ2TY8Wd3bx07QsJhxIsJ-szVJ8pFWtj9Xt-HTa9b_YbH9kzAbx5guHviTqY5cKTWD0KfXR9SJfA4Ek4g3ktLx2_HoLzI8dQSu7l4xYO8o/s640/Screenshot-265+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Who's that castin' devious stares in my direction ... Mama this surely is a dream ... yeah ..."</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Read <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/12/28-traveling-at-speed-of-life.html">HERE </a>for chapter 2.8 - "Traveling at the Speed of Life"</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
I apologize if this chapter got a little long, but I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Isabel and Nathan are just getting so much fun to think up new story lines about!<br />
<br />
I was going to call this chapter "Sex and Candy" but decided not to be that blunt. Besides, it was too good to resist another 80's movie favorite title anyways! (Back when Tom was so young and adorable!)<br />
<br />
Of special note, the scene with Coco's introduction was entirely by chance! I'm absolutely thrilled at how the immigration population of St. Claire is turning out. I turned on Twallan's "mix sims from Bin for immigration" function and its working out amazingly well. Almost ALL of the new residents moving into the city are really cool looking. Coco's name is really Coco (I added the Pie to it) and she's completely randomly generated. I instantly knew I wanted to use her in my story and started snapping pics at the park with Nate when the other two sims showed up and started arguing with her. It was too good to pass up the opportunity to make her a 'working girl' - and now Nate's getting wrapped up with her and has no idea!<br />
<br />
Also, there's been some comments that some of you are worried about Nate and Isabel getting caught by Morcucorp. They are, at this point, only a minor 'fringe' element in the outer edges of what Morcucorp is about. Their Dad may have had more information of importance, and yes there is some concern if the fire was in fact a set up, but at this point in the story I have no plans to send Isabel or Nate on a Morcucorp retaliation trip. Neither of them is really built for that sort of super-hero action (as Calisim's Farrell Brannon is!). That doesn't rule out the possibility of a future run-in with them however!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-48065652119151002952012-11-28T14:29:00.000-08:002012-11-30T22:54:21.308-08:002.6 - Tomb RaiderWhen we last left our adventuring heroine, she had figured out a riddle to gain entrance to a tomb that had been carefully sealed and never before explored.<br />
<br />
Getting inside was the easy part.<br />
<br />
There were many barriers in the way, along twisting turns and dark passageways.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMzj_24aAEK93zO7Tju3aTHQjHyS4HD8AN-noQ-R8cgdv_7HLL-TeFUeVcxuAEVAQkEAGEIV-UG-gXzvhzCW111Bt3J3glr-sly-OAYkNRqrDMklcoktWJW3BfQGDA92ENB9VSPS5vPv7/s1600/Screenshot-146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMzj_24aAEK93zO7Tju3aTHQjHyS4HD8AN-noQ-R8cgdv_7HLL-TeFUeVcxuAEVAQkEAGEIV-UG-gXzvhzCW111Bt3J3glr-sly-OAYkNRqrDMklcoktWJW3BfQGDA92ENB9VSPS5vPv7/s640/Screenshot-146.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Good thing I've been working out a bit more ... ugh!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Traps were everywhere and had to be carefully found and disabled ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljIL61qdD-hLg7-qrzgtA-edzEbvNEFp6548Pt7zr86jwBHrvEGhVsHg7-lrqYijYnMBVquN9vxCu2k4fSiZxvApxbdUa2pD9B7OayI5Ehc5_VExNl9l7yGxGUF9bFdpTiYKGD4M8D1Vt/s1600/Screenshot-139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljIL61qdD-hLg7-qrzgtA-edzEbvNEFp6548Pt7zr86jwBHrvEGhVsHg7-lrqYijYnMBVquN9vxCu2k4fSiZxvApxbdUa2pD9B7OayI5Ehc5_VExNl9l7yGxGUF9bFdpTiYKGD4M8D1Vt/s640/Screenshot-139.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why do I feel like I'm begging for my life ... at my job?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Dangerous underwater tunnels had to be explored for secret openings.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFOH0SHNS5LIweNj5n1rutg8wGy466MuHJ-0q7pwEYdlFkouylDqroSt4qSdJrKX1SSYR6GhxUs7ZT8XrKfJctBiQwlAAD7V3TE_4fUXvZawtsZOnXjD8lfmc4XTzqD8usmx_WcSOkEZo/s1600/Screenshot-142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFOH0SHNS5LIweNj5n1rutg8wGy466MuHJ-0q7pwEYdlFkouylDqroSt4qSdJrKX1SSYR6GhxUs7ZT8XrKfJctBiQwlAAD7V3TE_4fUXvZawtsZOnXjD8lfmc4XTzqD8usmx_WcSOkEZo/s640/Screenshot-142.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I gotta learn to hold my breath longer ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Hidden ledges in mysteriously clear pools of water revealed special keyed treasure chests ... more work had to be done to open them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMAjV7neNgwIkvEqNXljpAfMsHDcb_rbvR0mDRga_G2EgIdpqKi8gt73XtEDBqX2CiooxnH_w5GeXyuHZPwhDD97zc7SPwskTgUNyU6DUwNPycKxZF3lQErUDQy6ZWuqtAjv2Yy2mA9XK/s1600/Screenshot-131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMAjV7neNgwIkvEqNXljpAfMsHDcb_rbvR0mDRga_G2EgIdpqKi8gt73XtEDBqX2CiooxnH_w5GeXyuHZPwhDD97zc7SPwskTgUNyU6DUwNPycKxZF3lQErUDQy6ZWuqtAjv2Yy2mA9XK/s640/Screenshot-131.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Now, where to find a star keystone ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And the clues leading to the answer were often riddled with even more terrifying traps!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4UOqFdtkDtMOhHicQeqtp1bZv3Vg7WguDluh7wMW-i9JE3_mrrECH7VNhAMkmnL_LrDFlaRwGNF21vcCjiydY41-KTfFWPeZvol1-ZZ0yZbgxuHJjVbrl0KlTzGGtqBOyWcp0wvakI_n/s1600/Screenshot-134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4UOqFdtkDtMOhHicQeqtp1bZv3Vg7WguDluh7wMW-i9JE3_mrrECH7VNhAMkmnL_LrDFlaRwGNF21vcCjiydY41-KTfFWPeZvol1-ZZ0yZbgxuHJjVbrl0KlTzGGtqBOyWcp0wvakI_n/s640/Screenshot-134.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ok ... this does not look good ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Isabel is persistent and always brave. She forges ahead, deeper and deeper. Hours of hard work and careful exploration - hoping to hit the big payoff.<br />
<br />
She even spends the night inside. Sleeping in a tomb definitely ranks right up there in the top 10 most exciting things she's done on-the-job so far!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNqTi4-nXob0VoAZaUFuWxek9naz1CcgefZzVUzGH01TZJ8RoumZgAIuWTTL5z5KH4wsMietdwc2VSOp7f24xbeMqXVFWkhN_FxQg5nexzm5Vbz-ZalTEPARBLSzSI2bsWLMJidFzH9xL/s1600/Screenshot-144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNqTi4-nXob0VoAZaUFuWxek9naz1CcgefZzVUzGH01TZJ8RoumZgAIuWTTL5z5KH4wsMietdwc2VSOp7f24xbeMqXVFWkhN_FxQg5nexzm5Vbz-ZalTEPARBLSzSI2bsWLMJidFzH9xL/s640/Screenshot-144.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This memory needs a special sticker in my passport!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Meanwhile, topside, Nate sleeps in his own sleeping bag, worrying about his sister. He hasn't had a text message from her in hours (her phone got wet) - and he's sure she's too deep in the tomb for transmitting anything via her tablet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQl_QWNjfZe4nI_ttZtg6SSMPdG13s_1N8eHi27hFzT_983rTtTBTst9DFRvf-O6_k9jcW3rY67XOw0ofprwxS4r3SQcFDzeOy-JSyQA-vheWOSPeSKITcE3dfE3H_W9yksqbCT2kPp6t9/s1600/Screenshot-167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQl_QWNjfZe4nI_ttZtg6SSMPdG13s_1N8eHi27hFzT_983rTtTBTst9DFRvf-O6_k9jcW3rY67XOw0ofprwxS4r3SQcFDzeOy-JSyQA-vheWOSPeSKITcE3dfE3H_W9yksqbCT2kPp6t9/s640/Screenshot-167.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"She's smart, and brave, and tougher than most girls. I know she's ok ... unless a mummy got her ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Some of the traps were easy to figure out how to disable ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg199rfYXJ8J5c7te8_4OWH84h85tHeDuFvKn7M6c0Rm4RwU1jGFREgHev4INJ8-OEz0DHYbc-StWmF6GSc6sG3_os0ySGuNvntpXBCBSpP6DN75UivwdEr9QY-5Zvf7K7VhcJUrlz4ffGn/s1600/Screenshot-141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg199rfYXJ8J5c7te8_4OWH84h85tHeDuFvKn7M6c0Rm4RwU1jGFREgHev4INJ8-OEz0DHYbc-StWmF6GSc6sG3_os0ySGuNvntpXBCBSpP6DN75UivwdEr9QY-5Zvf7K7VhcJUrlz4ffGn/s640/Screenshot-141.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just ... one ... more ... pull ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
While others were deceptively hidden and easy to miss ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2tL4cQA9AguuFVWCezX5_3AAbliOMk-vB7PU-8Y7k5ON3YbsivNl66wX0oG29w_z73ZbB8S83yp3IdLXU-K-Z-ds9BzJU-YJWQlkdDNjhyNsoSJ-uyoZoLNCrjp_uvxPeRJTc6s8CfCQ/s1600/Screenshot-153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2tL4cQA9AguuFVWCezX5_3AAbliOMk-vB7PU-8Y7k5ON3YbsivNl66wX0oG29w_z73ZbB8S83yp3IdLXU-K-Z-ds9BzJU-YJWQlkdDNjhyNsoSJ-uyoZoLNCrjp_uvxPeRJTc6s8CfCQ/s640/Screenshot-153.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uuuuurrrgh - that was more than a tickle!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Adding insult to injury - a few of the access panels were booby trapped with things that would terrify a normal sim. But Isabel is brave. These creepy crawlies are no more than another minor inconvenience!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EtgSd6CFa6bEJ_EtDCLenQehEVUSNiMRtKApAM4_Q4gaW9dI6liGlxu6UbGDTxumc_I4u_oW2Ib315rpE8IKk3GIwrZmOKIc7KzltK8ugjDVV_MY2txTMHr25VJbUtca8Mwupc20i0Ac/s1600/Screenshot-158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EtgSd6CFa6bEJ_EtDCLenQehEVUSNiMRtKApAM4_Q4gaW9dI6liGlxu6UbGDTxumc_I4u_oW2Ib315rpE8IKk3GIwrZmOKIc7KzltK8ugjDVV_MY2txTMHr25VJbUtca8Mwupc20i0Ac/s640/Screenshot-158.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"An arm full of nasty bugs isn't going to keep me away from this activation switch!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Along with the keystone she needs - Isabel is rewarded for her persistence with riches and shiny things!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjOR7QJm7dXp4amyTCWJFRQnfzdwZlom1ZK5cYQlLZa_gbnG5UYejmRcuBlAmj987HBM5t-tzRB_zpRuF4P46IduPZnATcOSS6VuFy6R5-IjpPpE2O2A-Ly4Rfy77Zx73NDKs2eKL831X/s1600/Screenshot-159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjOR7QJm7dXp4amyTCWJFRQnfzdwZlom1ZK5cYQlLZa_gbnG5UYejmRcuBlAmj987HBM5t-tzRB_zpRuF4P46IduPZnATcOSS6VuFy6R5-IjpPpE2O2A-Ly4Rfy77Zx73NDKs2eKL831X/s640/Screenshot-159.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The face of a happy adventurer - reaping her rewards.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The Treasure is <b>HERS</b>!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzztB2cWQPYQoXXKFluLMdjfWQ-lfbS5VCTAMr_x1HJkBYYydmpRxUKuFtunj5XEOX_edQb2Ws7V4Hq4zl61CVSZZjrWeDWCrmx6QNKl4aqNbCbREdfgkkkZd92QX-MDAmnc_foGYSbNK/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzztB2cWQPYQoXXKFluLMdjfWQ-lfbS5VCTAMr_x1HJkBYYydmpRxUKuFtunj5XEOX_edQb2Ws7V4Hq4zl61CVSZZjrWeDWCrmx6QNKl4aqNbCbREdfgkkkZd92QX-MDAmnc_foGYSbNK/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Eureka - it fits!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And even greater treasures await within the deepest chambers of the tomb ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhrVjlLNNKCgHv37jXPHzm3_GsTwXla2BTtXG7Ub5i3y5z9RMed-8m3b3ez-gwwi2j3MPI9sWD6gPONF7ZkOGMgqrOqtc5PsXo_9GpwNm4RsNz7LqO8QFnBCDX-bYnNZe9tbESV-SsI61/s1600/Screenshot-157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhrVjlLNNKCgHv37jXPHzm3_GsTwXla2BTtXG7Ub5i3y5z9RMed-8m3b3ez-gwwi2j3MPI9sWD6gPONF7ZkOGMgqrOqtc5PsXo_9GpwNm4RsNz7LqO8QFnBCDX-bYnNZe9tbESV-SsI61/s640/Screenshot-157.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This should be the last door ... " (odd, that chain and lock look suspiciously modern, don't they?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The wondrous treasures which lay beyond are hard to imagine. Rooms full of mystical statues and amazing architecture.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZwVDTd8VgtsISDMUIqCoFHRxvPqlEeGA1DvXdSISM2pA8cmt9rHtq5BuzEpsweWb9AwW5CV1S9rV-kPszOWcPKKQ7BamupQaFz8EG6KBU5yOfGCRZ9aE5ZKxluneBmDYSiLANS5wfCPc/s1600/Screenshot-155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZwVDTd8VgtsISDMUIqCoFHRxvPqlEeGA1DvXdSISM2pA8cmt9rHtq5BuzEpsweWb9AwW5CV1S9rV-kPszOWcPKKQ7BamupQaFz8EG6KBU5yOfGCRZ9aE5ZKxluneBmDYSiLANS5wfCPc/s640/Screenshot-155.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It would be impossible to 'steal' even a small portion of this historical monument honoring ancient civilization...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel has finally reached her goal and successfully survived many pitfalls and traps along the way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOI8Y4kHPRujHMtLYQYvHdpKDMufSVjjR6ryDL0ucE6r8bbwsRgw2i0dUIQ95dniO5Kc5UQDbIsceEo-9BTIU5M4869DbwGqc4pzThxTgCoYvZZZRbnNe0kJm8cbiE_cU5PE0RtCprNZ8/s1600/Screenshot-156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOI8Y4kHPRujHMtLYQYvHdpKDMufSVjjR6ryDL0ucE6r8bbwsRgw2i0dUIQ95dniO5Kc5UQDbIsceEo-9BTIU5M4869DbwGqc4pzThxTgCoYvZZZRbnNe0kJm8cbiE_cU5PE0RtCprNZ8/s640/Screenshot-156.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This moment has made all the pain and suffering worth it ... though I am not quite picture perfect looking!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel spends many hours going through the rooms of treasure, inventorying the items, deciding what must go and what must stay. You see, she has no intentions of turning this all over to Morcucorp to plunder and destroy. She means to re-seal the tomb and leave everything but the 'gifts' left by the ancients in the chests. The historical integrity of the tomb shall remain forever a secret. It will take all of her genius to make sure she covers her tracks and re-sets all of the traps and to even make them harder to find or disable.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoNmQzW1FK6fqNzRNl-nzc61fZY6PPUlTohmOmsniakE3rjiOF8BneoPbYLRPys404zno8Fpa_jeQPddNzF6zCT5OJGfPEN5jcvmvWM19Tl8JgN71qBgKqGKfHNDl6PhPQoNGgnB1m6u_/s1600/Screenshot-160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoNmQzW1FK6fqNzRNl-nzc61fZY6PPUlTohmOmsniakE3rjiOF8BneoPbYLRPys404zno8Fpa_jeQPddNzF6zCT5OJGfPEN5jcvmvWM19Tl8JgN71qBgKqGKfHNDl6PhPQoNGgnB1m6u_/s640/Screenshot-160.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laughing to herself, Isabel realizes, "I am smarter than any of the previous adventurers and this is going to make us wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. There is enough treasure here to satisfy Morcucorp's greediness and for me to live comfortably without destroying this beautifully kept secret!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
One last hesitant peek inside a few of the sarcophagus crypts reveals some interesting artifacts Isabel needs to reconstruct her own archaeology relics ... and no mummies were disturbed (yet) ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE-kvxHOKehOrZaLjAm2xkVyQ5W4phMeEVqVj27EntpyWON8wGSonAKv_67Ch5mWxxzcd5Dbhc4Hbf3SEw-m8AUtrzEMVdD-fI3bKaQvnG9JgA8Vp24RgbbCld29w-OEed4MpR_jWmyLC/s1600/Screenshot-164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE-kvxHOKehOrZaLjAm2xkVyQ5W4phMeEVqVj27EntpyWON8wGSonAKv_67Ch5mWxxzcd5Dbhc4Hbf3SEw-m8AUtrzEMVdD-fI3bKaQvnG9JgA8Vp24RgbbCld29w-OEed4MpR_jWmyLC/s640/Screenshot-164.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wow... so fascinating ... I must study how these ancient civilizations acquired such advanced knowledge!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
By the way - Isabel learns that "Shower-in-a-can" truly rocks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9BqJSFo0mYJ_HpK8b7_kOoz_BiSy4Fx9OHZrMqobuSfAwOvyNdSXYq2RZD8jElMbg-wBQkvNWjfKBxztvnM-rLzjFhdCbYIsltxrPZ52AkGVgKn3HSDiNMbWmj02psqWq-KxIXLoZdmo/s1600/Screenshot-161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9BqJSFo0mYJ_HpK8b7_kOoz_BiSy4Fx9OHZrMqobuSfAwOvyNdSXYq2RZD8jElMbg-wBQkvNWjfKBxztvnM-rLzjFhdCbYIsltxrPZ52AkGVgKn3HSDiNMbWmj02psqWq-KxIXLoZdmo/s640/Screenshot-161.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wooo - refreshing!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And now, the process of re-tracing her steps back out of the tomb and making it nearly impossible to find these parts of the deepest rooms ever again ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-pwVzUwu0qjI5g_-b0uWZSKgEYSdLMCWMayoj9H8so1-NmZoyzcOr_yvL0zU76_S4BJT7qyN5gS7EUrgyCgEjMHqpZM0FMVSBg74Wsj9USaBnlk3YZfQUYxYixn87n4MGo5U5JuFkzoc/s1600/Screenshot-137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-pwVzUwu0qjI5g_-b0uWZSKgEYSdLMCWMayoj9H8so1-NmZoyzcOr_yvL0zU76_S4BJT7qyN5gS7EUrgyCgEjMHqpZM0FMVSBg74Wsj9USaBnlk3YZfQUYxYixn87n4MGo5U5JuFkzoc/s640/Screenshot-137.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I do not want this sacred place destroyed. I will make sure all of these traps and hidden areas work better than even their creators could build!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It takes another day to put her plans (and traps) in place as well as remove the mass of relics she will be taking away with her. As planned, she contacts Nate via her tablet (who is relieved to hear she made it out alive!) - and the inventory of items is divided up accordingly. The pieces her employers expected (because they did not know about the deepest areas of the tomb) were delivered, and Isabel's first large scale tomb exploration is concluded.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7O6EquHqx06qchD-EcSvbBOYAZFsKnXQSHI9QdZsLHHH29QGz6PCjCRTEFPW5_awAf4Aoe9b0bLvQJj1Z_Rg8-gNT_UHGepIzTC6hWDoZzmwAc9qbMvRQimdfa54c0bU3REX-h5z4z34_/s1600/Screenshot-182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7O6EquHqx06qchD-EcSvbBOYAZFsKnXQSHI9QdZsLHHH29QGz6PCjCRTEFPW5_awAf4Aoe9b0bLvQJj1Z_Rg8-gNT_UHGepIzTC6hWDoZzmwAc9qbMvRQimdfa54c0bU3REX-h5z4z34_/s640/Screenshot-182.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uploading complete inventory and photos now ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Term1Nate0r</b>: "omg UR <u>ALIVE</u>!!11! ... spent 2 days biting my nails off FRAKING out - did a mummy get U??"<br />
<br />
<b>Izzy</b>: No, Nate, I would not be standing here chatting to you if a mummy had gotten me.<br />
<br />
<b>Term1Nate0r</b>: "cooli0 u roxx0r sis - uploading the relic pix 2 dealrs now!! we bling bling PHAT l00tz LOL"<br />
<br />
<b>Izzy</b>: "I have absolutely no idea what you just typed. See you soon, I'm in need of a good dinner. Let's celebrate!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8bBHyQ-Pce-QUXdBLqUj_00QT188_qtBWTwBjapKcVGNUFqDy0KmXMU44R11invUeiSr12yp-lAlPYGLxqkEWe7ps_N-rNFY2g9lJqtEEtUFW4Rm23UsrKA5PuqsSEKrNkkZy4kWuh9k/s1600/Screenshot-216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8bBHyQ-Pce-QUXdBLqUj_00QT188_qtBWTwBjapKcVGNUFqDy0KmXMU44R11invUeiSr12yp-lAlPYGLxqkEWe7ps_N-rNFY2g9lJqtEEtUFW4Rm23UsrKA5PuqsSEKrNkkZy4kWuh9k/s640/Screenshot-216.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Shwarma dinner - on the house!" (Nate - "<b>Term1Nate0r</b>" is busy managing their auction listings)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Actually, Isabel doesn't want to freak Nate out too much ... but there was <i>one </i>small incident ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmQQ-dD0wjZkFnJIwjZBY6Z5_oZVcoj58RfYDtQiLuLSNSaIPcbR_wlF3Jb0NJtxGdkoMgDa4dtsbKJQcKMPFltKcDMQIZH_gvA6Hbd_nIK-bSu30eekOWJRl-zzEN6O0-5PsrLH49rW5/s1600/Screenshot-220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmQQ-dD0wjZkFnJIwjZBY6Z5_oZVcoj58RfYDtQiLuLSNSaIPcbR_wlF3Jb0NJtxGdkoMgDa4dtsbKJQcKMPFltKcDMQIZH_gvA6Hbd_nIK-bSu30eekOWJRl-zzEN6O0-5PsrLH49rW5/s640/Screenshot-220.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What is that horrible smell??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
That night, Isabel met with her previous employer after their dinner. Layla claimed she had been 'removed' from lead archaeology acquisitions by her sister Nabiya, and oddly enough, was interested in working out 'deals' with Isabel on the side. Ever wary of Dr. Midden's warning advice long ago, Isabel politely declined Layla's offers, suspicious that she was actually working under cover and testing Isabel's loyalty to Morcucorp.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqOixI01JA15K07hkgqDUb_BArykx7PIQ1NWXiWlbzOi974LZ7GfZ6anzDzJJFd-quKXS1gB7zwZGcKrdT-ep-5m5fpg9qX0dGQrJwrIPtL49EacxfpdIQDv75pusAs6hAsTrymBe9bK2/s1600/Screenshot-211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqOixI01JA15K07hkgqDUb_BArykx7PIQ1NWXiWlbzOi974LZ7GfZ6anzDzJJFd-quKXS1gB7zwZGcKrdT-ep-5m5fpg9qX0dGQrJwrIPtL49EacxfpdIQDv75pusAs6hAsTrymBe9bK2/s640/Screenshot-211.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Are you certain you've no more relics you'd like to make a tidy profit from on the side Ms. Twist?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel was busy taking advice from Nate, who was just inside the cafe listening to the whole thing and feeding her text messages about Layla's suspicious offers. Plus, what was up with wearing her bathing suit to a business meeting?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAgp5U1ZAz39juQWw4iueJ-L-vj1YjhGNgNVe2APNZCw004ZIhhMlIkIvbWqujit8hk_3rZqL42Jh902yTX_1Ph3yHr2Fsu-iY5Sk7uY6aF8J2LEohptL2iQY_EsWhiVDc6TKTTMBR1I_/s1600/Screenshot-212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAgp5U1ZAz39juQWw4iueJ-L-vj1YjhGNgNVe2APNZCw004ZIhhMlIkIvbWqujit8hk_3rZqL42Jh902yTX_1Ph3yHr2Fsu-iY5Sk7uY6aF8J2LEohptL2iQY_EsWhiVDc6TKTTMBR1I_/s640/Screenshot-212.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Thank you for supporting the Archaeology project Ms. Lufti, we're returning to St. Claire and I look forward to continuing work with the project lead Nabiya in the future."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This seemed to wrap things up neatly and hopefully proved Isabel was a straight up honest scientist not interested in 'shady deals' to cover their tracks out of Egypt with their shipment of relics.<br />
<br />
Nate and Isabel returned to St. Claire exhausted but happy. In the taxi ride home from the airport, they discussed their 'winnings' and how they had pulled off a real heist.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUMQNsvbkoeT_kinxbi-xzAfG7ABGptsYjEy-pAGWsaHd_nHtL6_ri0ZR2lJtN9BZFoaTJbdhpK7qbL1KkSjeHSHuX0JZw4o0yTbn2XbhOlFax3wpEP1FVSPOtnhtuydDosixfjQHcYcF/s1600/Screenshot-224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUMQNsvbkoeT_kinxbi-xzAfG7ABGptsYjEy-pAGWsaHd_nHtL6_ri0ZR2lJtN9BZFoaTJbdhpK7qbL1KkSjeHSHuX0JZw4o0yTbn2XbhOlFax3wpEP1FVSPOtnhtuydDosixfjQHcYcF/s640/Screenshot-224.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"That was so awesome Izzy - we ROCK ... "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
They were soon to be very very wealthy once Isabel met with a local middle-man dealer in relics Nathan had located in his many conversations online.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow, Isabel had her first business '<i>deal</i>' meeting.<br />
<br />
It was good to be 'home' - though neither of them really felt settled in this empty old townhouse yet. It was time to renovate it and make it homey and comfortable inside.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRh-pRzI0-j7TqrlUmkrFEw-DVJmlmfiRhLUHhdiS9cXfzoqlc9ImnTNDPp9Mc-rZerx3klWY8MKUAQ3CYTTF71nTAEukjui-R0GVLjMjhGmKb1PfR7E4XyH12SXkJfXg4AaZlMD_-zO8/s1600/Screenshot-225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRh-pRzI0-j7TqrlUmkrFEw-DVJmlmfiRhLUHhdiS9cXfzoqlc9ImnTNDPp9Mc-rZerx3klWY8MKUAQ3CYTTF71nTAEukjui-R0GVLjMjhGmKb1PfR7E4XyH12SXkJfXg4AaZlMD_-zO8/s640/Screenshot-225.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Home"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Things were definitely going to be interesting!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Read onward, <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/27-risky-business.html">HERE </a>for Chapter 2.7 - "Risky Business" </b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Note:<br />
<br />
I had no idea relic hunting was so lucrative! Once I had Isabel cataloging and analying her finds, it was obvious they would return from a 6 day (she has the lifetime reward to extend her visas) trip with enough simoleons to set them up for quite a long time and to decorate their 3 bedroom townhouse nicely!<br />
<br />
I have built a new venue in St. Claire that wasn't there before and includes a relic merchant. He will make his appearance next chapter as will new characters in the Twist adventures back home as they settle in a bit more. Romance adventures do not go nearly as well as tomb raiding adventures!<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-66412426558737687922012-11-25T03:03:00.001-08:002012-11-28T14:30:52.127-08:002.5 - Risky Ventures<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_z60jDc7AyW3iY99-syXSRatX07ywML5j_sRY5gQxRFqLDZX-yddxd105x-5aCsX_rffXFp29AOgUubYVdszFfo2GUkbtaBm6Eix2whRAM2buj_TFYlxH84JylTJq1GrUCb7iigPaVzT/s1600/Screenshot-36+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_z60jDc7AyW3iY99-syXSRatX07ywML5j_sRY5gQxRFqLDZX-yddxd105x-5aCsX_rffXFp29AOgUubYVdszFfo2GUkbtaBm6Eix2whRAM2buj_TFYlxH84JylTJq1GrUCb7iigPaVzT/s640/Screenshot-36+(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel Twist. Explorer, Intellectual, Archaeologist Extraordinaire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There comes a time, in every sim's life, when they must make a choice to walk a straight path, or diverge and go where others may not care to travel.<br />
<br />
Isabel was at this crossroad point in hers.<br />
<br />
Careful communication, daily, with her shifty '<i>employer</i>' was beginning to get tiresome.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPqSup9OJUfhx4_Ra6ONleUguyhnO_dkufZ0-OSVBTXvdzaug5WfaZ_ohyphenhyphen5Kmf9DZuOB5hvG2gTe4yKyMFEgkeKIIsNw9r6FJM-UE10Ktcb4foNisgRDuBR9oFs4IxBJJIZDYscERtP6i/s1600/Screenshot-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPqSup9OJUfhx4_Ra6ONleUguyhnO_dkufZ0-OSVBTXvdzaug5WfaZ_ohyphenhyphen5Kmf9DZuOB5hvG2gTe4yKyMFEgkeKIIsNw9r6FJM-UE10Ktcb4foNisgRDuBR9oFs4IxBJJIZDYscERtP6i/s640/Screenshot-61.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why yes, <i>of course </i>I'm keeping careful records of my daily recovery finds. All itemized findings are in the logs at the discovery vault as requested."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In reality, she had a new accomplice - she just didn't know it yet.<br />
<br />
(There's her accomplice, pretending to look preoccupied and bored in the background)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SmdR9LYPAS-UALtWk9gvsx0aV6e2R5EqDKZ2z7goZ7Q8Yrj_HCgO7afqeAaASl3ybtgxXPc_eoBTWbmJoClQiAEfY4O78pvDv-H82Hohu53ZUW5FU-a06-JoqMMSNWpRsbYd9ecjvTpI/s1600/Screenshot-63.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SmdR9LYPAS-UALtWk9gvsx0aV6e2R5EqDKZ2z7goZ7Q8Yrj_HCgO7afqeAaASl3ybtgxXPc_eoBTWbmJoClQiAEfY4O78pvDv-H82Hohu53ZUW5FU-a06-JoqMMSNWpRsbYd9ecjvTpI/s640/Screenshot-63.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'd like to discuss a more detailed compensation report and other options in ways I can assist the project."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's contact in Al Simhara for stage two tomb exploration was Layla's sister Nabiya Lufti, and she was a lot less friendly and cut her off from talking pay with a scowl.<br />
<br />
"We will NOT discuss full <i>remuneration </i>until the entirety of your contracted recovery efforts are completed to our satisfaction!!"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Nathan, though still young, had an uncanny knack for numbers and finances. Once he had heard the figures discussed between his sister and her relic acquisition manager, he knew he had to do something to help Isabel's profit become a gain and not a loss.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWYlQIkCRsuWuHSnUHxI1Zk-s2Yut4WN5J68Fv5BHY5uyQXwTe2EeW6ICfzoLTvqY6A78CfOUSB_12BUT9qSOwHoKSGrXWVUKfyCrFGW9uknvbFI6zTor2YZ7vO-89q_OL1-_kPXo-hd-/s1600/Screenshot-41+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWYlQIkCRsuWuHSnUHxI1Zk-s2Yut4WN5J68Fv5BHY5uyQXwTe2EeW6ICfzoLTvqY6A78CfOUSB_12BUT9qSOwHoKSGrXWVUKfyCrFGW9uknvbFI6zTor2YZ7vO-89q_OL1-_kPXo-hd-/s640/Screenshot-41+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now, you see, why Nathan was so intrigued with reading the business ledgers of the local merchants...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
His knowledge of computers and the online world was also growing now that he did all his schoolwork there. It was only a matter of time, and a little research, before he had a plan.<br />
<br />
Getting Isabel to see the brilliance of this plan was easy. They met outside one of the famous tombs Isabel was to work in the next day. They had bought better head gear too. The sun was killer here.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicen8dDOAMRXil7qtmhUoDwdSYLj_QFy3KgImbXjUpR3_XHGj8MT36qAwvAxRdKdJTOib9lTpZahhBtp8VhHDfAQkWHJvU4FpRK0rhJ7tzL0_YalFscmUSMvvPEpCz75tWYsaAeP5tfTo9/s1600/Screenshot-84.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicen8dDOAMRXil7qtmhUoDwdSYLj_QFy3KgImbXjUpR3_XHGj8MT36qAwvAxRdKdJTOib9lTpZahhBtp8VhHDfAQkWHJvU4FpRK0rhJ7tzL0_YalFscmUSMvvPEpCz75tWYsaAeP5tfTo9/s640/Screenshot-84.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan reveals his plan to make money and advance Isabel's career.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"So here's the deal," Nate waggles an eyebrow playfully, looking like a small cars salesman.<br />
<br />
"We work together on this, they don't even know I can use a computer, let alone speak. I'm just a dumb kid hanging around the marketplace all the time."<br />
<br />
He goes on to reveal a complicated system of buying and trading using anonymous online sources.<br />
<br />
"I upload your inventory files before you take them to the catalog facility. We find interested buyers on the more lucrative pieces, and split the loot. Part goes to the project, and specific parts go to the...err, more <i>discreet </i>buyers. What do you say sis?"<br />
<br />
Isabel can't quite believe she's listening to her kid brother talk. He's years beyond his age in cleverness, which of course they share in common.<br />
<br />
"So you're basically saying we steal the finds from Morcucorp's black market deals and sell to our own black market dealers?" Isabel laughs at Nate in disbelief.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYNZ2Emz2BA1d9mMCRCvH9mqa8cw8ARzjtkFILKt0Wvprh-PyLD1qAhbtJGvjfOv7Vs81rjbpYcLcAiirEr0bKAUy6G8aSQGj701ElaO8Ay7_0WnJP22uM-MLxPgiboHyy6w6qeKsRU81/s1600/Screenshot-85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYNZ2Emz2BA1d9mMCRCvH9mqa8cw8ARzjtkFILKt0Wvprh-PyLD1qAhbtJGvjfOv7Vs81rjbpYcLcAiirEr0bKAUy6G8aSQGj701ElaO8Ay7_0WnJP22uM-MLxPgiboHyy6w6qeKsRU81/s640/Screenshot-85.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey, its not like your bosses aren't already doing shady business, am I right?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It doesn't take a genius (even though she is one) to see the potential mass of simoleons they could make if they pulled this off. Isabel, however, wants more solid proof.<br />
<br />
So that night, she takes Nate with her inside one of the smaller pyramid tombs to make some quick estimates.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2KfGIesenSrpWi6Q4zLD59mDrkiI8pYQ_U9xmyR1yfBwXL6XuAypLD4CSmK68NK6aouDj_oyCnJEJgC2hWjxTLLNeonPkXRoV1pELvSB0ieNYHzKHKey6fPtRP_ZXb_3BDqOPau1mrsf/s1600/Screenshot-116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2KfGIesenSrpWi6Q4zLD59mDrkiI8pYQ_U9xmyR1yfBwXL6XuAypLD4CSmK68NK6aouDj_oyCnJEJgC2hWjxTLLNeonPkXRoV1pELvSB0ieNYHzKHKey6fPtRP_ZXb_3BDqOPau1mrsf/s640/Screenshot-116.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You ready for adventure, little boss?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's the one with the bravery and super logic for breaking in tricky tombs. Nathan's the mastermind for money-making off her talents.<br />
<br />
He stands back and lets her work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWf2GJjosnWmHKnwsDgEZQzgZRX1pcLiIs8MIDJk8jgiKgbUZMQVclOvJcxjRTx9Cd3mlsO6GaLZCI4vSsRZxII1xdUIBF9fd9YuCEkL46JoGzJ1qZM6lOia_Dxckdx-4u-PbP0wRN-zb/s1600/Screenshot-119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWf2GJjosnWmHKnwsDgEZQzgZRX1pcLiIs8MIDJk8jgiKgbUZMQVclOvJcxjRTx9Cd3mlsO6GaLZCI4vSsRZxII1xdUIBF9fd9YuCEkL46JoGzJ1qZM6lOia_Dxckdx-4u-PbP0wRN-zb/s640/Screenshot-119.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just ... a ... few ... A-HAH! -- there's the trigger switch ... "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"<b>YES</b>! We're <b>IN</b>!"<br />
<br />
Ancient gears and pulleys groan and crack under thousands of years disuse.<br />
<br />
Nate is duly impressed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqpBuVhp1ZalGYcyDMgMc84_b1kOWjTrAUTNK37eAHrA5yXN1jzNVnZKtuLMj-HVBGzKtK3cjamhuaMbxZzRxxo4WqLos7rUX3J4k4oEz8xU2eJg0IpcLURAZ8ovkOIIw3A8jXO31A_jz/s1600/Screenshot-120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqpBuVhp1ZalGYcyDMgMc84_b1kOWjTrAUTNK37eAHrA5yXN1jzNVnZKtuLMj-HVBGzKtK3cjamhuaMbxZzRxxo4WqLos7rUX3J4k4oEz8xU2eJg0IpcLURAZ8ovkOIIw3A8jXO31A_jz/s640/Screenshot-120.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"C'mon baby, open sesame!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel, fearless as ever, heads right in, leaving Nathan to cough and sputter and start to worry about toxic gasses, deadly explosive booby traps, and government officials in dark suits arriving on the scene...<br />
<br />
(He is, after all, a neurotic worrier)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsRWt1JclGQ-lkneaAaKTrvtwC5kAvAWpgLYs1q7EcmdYJcaL2NRChpZO60CZKzgAoqEcsM4ag8O0cWt1diSUmUX1XXJn8Jkwmydv2EtZeqTNWlWE8ScCa6-GEgDPMvEZwkN9rw5Azoba/s1600/Screenshot-123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsRWt1JclGQ-lkneaAaKTrvtwC5kAvAWpgLYs1q7EcmdYJcaL2NRChpZO60CZKzgAoqEcsM4ag8O0cWt1diSUmUX1XXJn8Jkwmydv2EtZeqTNWlWE8ScCa6-GEgDPMvEZwkN9rw5Azoba/s640/Screenshot-123.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*cough cough* "Uh, is this safe?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But once they've cleared the secret entrance, Isabel's excitement and wide-eyed wonderment convinces Nathan to come in and view the magnificence of ancient civilizations long gone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvwrScgz-B9sPgDl8_VcQNcdjsTage5ZGNcXdmZ4WMRUTpdeOc3oYfgUBw_uGzhwppR_KLfZ0mKGKg9mZwii5UEEPL-tmv1cVeF6vyrmJuXPLh7DgFlpmvoI3wkih4LT6_CTXqsvv39uf/s1600/Screenshot-127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvwrScgz-B9sPgDl8_VcQNcdjsTage5ZGNcXdmZ4WMRUTpdeOc3oYfgUBw_uGzhwppR_KLfZ0mKGKg9mZwii5UEEPL-tmv1cVeF6vyrmJuXPLh7DgFlpmvoI3wkih4LT6_CTXqsvv39uf/s640/Screenshot-127.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Woah.... cool."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They take a quick survey with some webcam shots of potential relics.<br />
<br />
Isabel uploads the data on her tablet, this is small and easy to carry in her pocket, and unnoticeable by officials outside the tombs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx75CrpX8XnDImd-qB6TxNzUqEeN2OfX9aXY8oB2qdG1XYsqaZxwmvz3mb6O7hZSN37ozbvYh8ZkvDbY_3zK1RKYX3VMMfl5Osgnw7AzAeRfywsGAE2P1s0_VvYuYEM_nm12S8L0ItPqjD/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx75CrpX8XnDImd-qB6TxNzUqEeN2OfX9aXY8oB2qdG1XYsqaZxwmvz3mb6O7hZSN37ozbvYh8ZkvDbY_3zK1RKYX3VMMfl5Osgnw7AzAeRfywsGAE2P1s0_VvYuYEM_nm12S8L0ItPqjD/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Remember, use the encrypted cell phone frequency I gave you for the outbound files ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate may not be a genius, but he's definitely a budding computer whiz. His clever adaptive learning gets him further than academic book smarts and he intends for it to make him rich too.<br />
<br />
Once certain there's no wire taps inside, they have a talk in one of the luxurious royal rooms of the tomb. Nate needs to know what Isabel knows about Morcucorp.<br />
<br />
It isn't much.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuKtUTt88ndDofBM1eTOvWNZmd9HMKGwFxQW3jzDrxkp4vVk2eMemfVBHKH5l-57v4hMHa2C_snUuTjtabgymE8OvkWYwPX-ZtA8uTyMQHYZCtmf9_9dgl8aJsqdE1v8yXJvSkDBOd91u/s1600/Screenshot-97.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuKtUTt88ndDofBM1eTOvWNZmd9HMKGwFxQW3jzDrxkp4vVk2eMemfVBHKH5l-57v4hMHa2C_snUuTjtabgymE8OvkWYwPX-ZtA8uTyMQHYZCtmf9_9dgl8aJsqdE1v8yXJvSkDBOd91u/s640/Screenshot-97.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"When we were back in Appaloosa Plains, I thought it was Wolfson's Science Center who worked for Morcucorp."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel explains how the job offer came, and all of the mystery surrounding Dr. Midden's sudden retirement and their Dad's cryptic last phone call. Nate agrees with Isabel that something fishy is going on with the science centers of the Sim Nation, and none of his conspiracy theories even make sense this time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cxr7pU2yJAMsxlUUv8IYv-8yIk2vDH0JJ4e2_vopHDi6rcB2rcsKVf6poLXPTUZCcKaFUL_n8HPHNhSJFWnQPJXEHSP3W3-irtSzqy7SwOFppayZKblvz7HbZEcCgxy4Svqg2LS8VZHk/s1600/Screenshot-95.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cxr7pU2yJAMsxlUUv8IYv-8yIk2vDH0JJ4e2_vopHDi6rcB2rcsKVf6poLXPTUZCcKaFUL_n8HPHNhSJFWnQPJXEHSP3W3-irtSzqy7SwOFppayZKblvz7HbZEcCgxy4Svqg2LS8VZHk/s640/Screenshot-95.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't know what's going on, or who's in charge - but I don't think the fire was an accident."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now, this job is getting personal. Both Nathan and Isabel have a deep desire to solve the mystery and to exact revenge on whoever may have done this terrible act. If Morcucorp is involved, then they will not only get to the bottom of who did it, they'll make sure they pay for it.<br />
<br />
Ripping off a mega-corporation who isn't afraid to commit possible murder to shut sims up is definitely a dangerous idea however.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DuZ23zrjdIRkeaS7Ilm0zaf1xynMkzlJYvnEo8uY4DcuIsK16dggWcEl5CCHJI9RpOjCyQ9199kO38moIdhfBkllT0eHGXFxVoCztTNVky_FZPvNfVzcOCL8Cw-GI8TMpf_o8fKcQAnj/s1600/Screenshot-105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DuZ23zrjdIRkeaS7Ilm0zaf1xynMkzlJYvnEo8uY4DcuIsK16dggWcEl5CCHJI9RpOjCyQ9199kO38moIdhfBkllT0eHGXFxVoCztTNVky_FZPvNfVzcOCL8Cw-GI8TMpf_o8fKcQAnj/s640/Screenshot-105.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We can totally pull this off Izzy, we just have to stick together and be smart about it."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel has always been adventurous and a risk taker. Involving her little brother might be a bad idea, but it was <i>his </i>idea, and she really wants to go for it. She promised him they would stick together, and a promise is a promise.<br />
<br />
"Ok. I'm in."<br />
<br />
They head back to town, where Nate works his magic on the internet while Isabel distracts the merchants with mindless chatter and praise for their Falafel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4j9oIIX3z7iEEXzy_70nrlp8F6pLI0W4GQlsmxdKSj549V9s9Dw_OJbK5UarurrgRPbEJC41jyPaSKJP9oKWU1DEvbrGRwhMIpXFkFOVwJUrVYCBjg7wvl7EZHlCcvCyd3O9bp_BOT_F/s1600/Screenshot-207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4j9oIIX3z7iEEXzy_70nrlp8F6pLI0W4GQlsmxdKSj549V9s9Dw_OJbK5UarurrgRPbEJC41jyPaSKJP9oKWU1DEvbrGRwhMIpXFkFOVwJUrVYCBjg7wvl7EZHlCcvCyd3O9bp_BOT_F/s640/Screenshot-207.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mmmrpf - Mmmgf - Mmmm! This stuff is delicious!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate is quickly able to locate several third party buyers who may be potential clients for Isabel's relics. He will do some further investigation to ensure they are not Morcucorp plants and quickly makes an inventory list of those relics they can safely ship back to St. Claire, along with a cooperative no-questions-asked cargo shipping service.<br />
<br />
Business begins.<br />
<br />
While Isabel collects unregistered buried treasure, and delves into tombs, Nate maintains auction operations at base camp. Isabel uploads data to him as she uncovers relics.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gIjLQyNMkYftlvVvQftnmRL9ZdZnEGf56y-3UA3xf2v0dnmfQdZ74g7Z8QEeTV46n0TabZBYNieCFU2IqpjU24kQenzbJL8DUjbzrbDZqYl4yv2RkhTfcqZD8Fpz_k06C6fax7FKOZXb/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gIjLQyNMkYftlvVvQftnmRL9ZdZnEGf56y-3UA3xf2v0dnmfQdZ74g7Z8QEeTV46n0TabZBYNieCFU2IqpjU24kQenzbJL8DUjbzrbDZqYl4yv2RkhTfcqZD8Fpz_k06C6fax7FKOZXb/s640/Screenshot-115.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I wish it were in the name of science... but in the name of simoleons is also a good thing as Nate says..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan has carefully maintained his kid-like innocence routine. The merchants are used to him hanging around, and no one questions him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKWRIIpUkPAofloVipYhpFzrim6qjW-JktFYnSMerApMxR_G-y64sOeLrWUiwuqSjQIp9Hi3RoAXABvjh1qCX6XgslTRr_GGJXTKFZFd_yMB0yrXfcDdsGIKMAD1NRl2_WmdXhU_7zwZh/s1600/Screenshot-210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKWRIIpUkPAofloVipYhpFzrim6qjW-JktFYnSMerApMxR_G-y64sOeLrWUiwuqSjQIp9Hi3RoAXABvjh1qCX6XgslTRr_GGJXTKFZFd_yMB0yrXfcDdsGIKMAD1NRl2_WmdXhU_7zwZh/s640/Screenshot-210.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate thinks to himself: "27 listings today. We'll have over 100 by the end of the trip. The kaching commences!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nabiya is a tough boss, and she keeps a careful eye on Isabel's every movement. She does not, however, know anything about Isabel's little brother.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMl2c44e1JUtArs0MCtHwIrVBtOBbtENiRDRGxTiwugni5gPHRyeW1dAWzh7yFl3JzwvojFWsJqTf5_EKN5H8pQMNYLq6giPFk6n27UbD9WdFpL9OeluEsUCUzDxlBofWvHd6Nmenk2sN/s1600/Screenshot-57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMl2c44e1JUtArs0MCtHwIrVBtOBbtENiRDRGxTiwugni5gPHRyeW1dAWzh7yFl3JzwvojFWsJqTf5_EKN5H8pQMNYLq6giPFk6n27UbD9WdFpL9OeluEsUCUzDxlBofWvHd6Nmenk2sN/s640/Screenshot-57.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This girl is working out well for us Samir, we shall make great gains for the corporation's project this year."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She's also a tough critic on Isabel's work. Fortunately Isabel's ability to reconstruct nearly flawless relics keeps Nabiya satisfied. For now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieisOJmlNHk48Se8kDALe-IQonTwB578BdhJN3lWQbvUhTi1z5kKEFay6kPHGcgsHXmotJN85Qz2PGMx2VdyaciL-9TYaTDEh6u4n_aVsjMRjbhtDSJO7LfABX1md5PKoIc_nwNeqA2fOL/s1600/Screenshot-58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieisOJmlNHk48Se8kDALe-IQonTwB578BdhJN3lWQbvUhTi1z5kKEFay6kPHGcgsHXmotJN85Qz2PGMx2VdyaciL-9TYaTDEh6u4n_aVsjMRjbhtDSJO7LfABX1md5PKoIc_nwNeqA2fOL/s640/Screenshot-58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Not bad. Not bad at all..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
With Nate's help, Isabel continues to query Nabiya on the values of her finds.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-rhab2kV2pJInAgJW4dtdu-UENddBRplc8jHGJOKLWtsKoBJWkSMPJHHU0UBiP2SQWxGtOP__1SjOMWF3jFD_Ybvr5x1mP6CeabxQwgerlGwjafpk1VgHP3DMmJUBEk3OOlXXuglrvgr/s1600/Screenshot-180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-rhab2kV2pJInAgJW4dtdu-UENddBRplc8jHGJOKLWtsKoBJWkSMPJHHU0UBiP2SQWxGtOP__1SjOMWF3jFD_Ybvr5x1mP6CeabxQwgerlGwjafpk1VgHP3DMmJUBEk3OOlXXuglrvgr/s640/Screenshot-180.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm just curious, you know, as an archaeologist, if any of these bits of rubble are worth much outside of museums..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nabiya's smart, but she's also greedy and vain. Her greed causes her to brag about the wealth of rare finds being stored in the vaults and who they'll be sold to and for how much. She obviously does not think Isabel has any intentions of using this information for anything.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_izVKwWVEYU1fl42on6wrL2CRMe6XAEEt9Bgz9FKd8oH8HRDhe47w4zY0zBzMG8Jn-UCdUhlOo8VKwGmcR2SUoFBaqVxzEjcawzeqoJqLEO0f34isEgMLaCRoq3q5kyIwAfYA52-ttOh/s1600/Screenshot-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_izVKwWVEYU1fl42on6wrL2CRMe6XAEEt9Bgz9FKd8oH8HRDhe47w4zY0zBzMG8Jn-UCdUhlOo8VKwGmcR2SUoFBaqVxzEjcawzeqoJqLEO0f34isEgMLaCRoq3q5kyIwAfYA52-ttOh/s640/Screenshot-178.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is great news for the Archaeology Team. I'm sure our grant will be extended next year too, right?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate has been listening and recording the information carefully the whole time.<br />
<br />
Isabel channels a little bit of her Mother Emma's talent for schmoozing and makes sure to stroke Nabiya's ego and flatter her as much as possible to keep the relationship strong.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8R0aOXuEIG1_S91U1l-JcG0krxyWdjfxpaTEiM-_rmQDss_hEIwlezW-50rYmvzxbZF9uXPOGO2Q1KGlxUipf_RaucYzOZCZFljZ7k5DsfzC6D9cFGRuiS50q_YIzPA45Z0012FrhS89/s1600/Screenshot-179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8R0aOXuEIG1_S91U1l-JcG0krxyWdjfxpaTEiM-_rmQDss_hEIwlezW-50rYmvzxbZF9uXPOGO2Q1KGlxUipf_RaucYzOZCZFljZ7k5DsfzC6D9cFGRuiS50q_YIzPA45Z0012FrhS89/s640/Screenshot-179.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're a very smart and savvy woman Nabiya. I'm proud to work with you and intend to bring in many new relics."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course, it works like a charm. Nabiya's snobbish trait means she loves to talk about herself and receive compliments.<br />
<br />
Now the real work begins. Isabel's schmoozing earns her entry into one of the least explored tombs of all Al-Simhara. Nabiya thinks she has what it takes to uncover vast riches. Just how vast is a mystery and Isabel will enter the tomb alone due to the dangers reported within.<br />
<br />
Before she leaves to enter the tomb, Isabel talks to Nate about their plans over breakfast. He's to remain at base camp, unnoticed, and transmit information back and forth as she explores, via her portable tablet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCH-c4eiMEnzUq_ByqdFOQKTJxDCQ_bzwu1y24wh7BF9QQ4Ic78lunIafXYttyztATQ-0FwxqM6hTkEG6Xr9XJIjzerXzidOilMUiC2bm8I1CTO1f7mYdJTvZdXZwxDKNbOPEGzr8-LCR_/s1600/Screenshot-173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCH-c4eiMEnzUq_ByqdFOQKTJxDCQ_bzwu1y24wh7BF9QQ4Ic78lunIafXYttyztATQ-0FwxqM6hTkEG6Xr9XJIjzerXzidOilMUiC2bm8I1CTO1f7mYdJTvZdXZwxDKNbOPEGzr8-LCR_/s640/Screenshot-173.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is awesome Nate. I feel like a treasure hunter, or a pirate embarking on a great hunt!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's just worried about his brave sister getting sliced in half by whirling blades of doom from hidden traps.<br />
<br />
He's got other plans though, while she's down in the tomb.<br />
<br />
Isabel gave Nate a cute mummy teddy bear to play with one day, while they were at a dig site.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4bi4X5Dk_R1OAMwNC7Rj3EJT80i8buD5epWqtT1RspYmFKRiUGfK_TRvb2AxTz76J68o0otpeEyp0QtQEhkB54GaD58n00RyxVxlRDn74wMYD2k0zWueb9BlVVyj1pvIbJ2OxXPcHeIb/s1600/Screenshot-110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4bi4X5Dk_R1OAMwNC7Rj3EJT80i8buD5epWqtT1RspYmFKRiUGfK_TRvb2AxTz76J68o0otpeEyp0QtQEhkB54GaD58n00RyxVxlRDn74wMYD2k0zWueb9BlVVyj1pvIbJ2OxXPcHeIb/s640/Screenshot-110.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I shall name you TP Bear!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
No, not Toilet Paper (though he does look like he's wrapped in it).<br />
<br />
<b>Transmission Perpetrator Bear.</b><br />
<br />
If you remember back, Nate has a theory (not all of them are crazy!) about those food trucks that keep getting stuck in the sand. He's cleverly designed an electronic listening device inside the doll. Now all he has to do is leave TP Bear in some inconspicuous location nearby.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8NJc4wGgqQXTKGQpN-0iH2iqYnxcEfqOsMtUTtwXymLIFRp-oYKKmOCIYuTvno9-8kZHMW_NOX-juvIeAJ9jJI78wsE0FBRqClnCjtNqcZIQ58cHfE6hBBsbhP3aP4utDttTenlCtsJK/s1600/Screenshot-188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8NJc4wGgqQXTKGQpN-0iH2iqYnxcEfqOsMtUTtwXymLIFRp-oYKKmOCIYuTvno9-8kZHMW_NOX-juvIeAJ9jJI78wsE0FBRqClnCjtNqcZIQ58cHfE6hBBsbhP3aP4utDttTenlCtsJK/s640/Screenshot-188.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ok, get to work TP!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now all there is to do is wait. Track data from Isabel inside the tomb, and listen for transmissions from the food truck.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTicoM8LuxBBPTVH6-p-wpjrtcPzpt1sgwtrnm0Ty_B6RjMz8lSnPHubOU70LME8V_dihvBB6CmJ_vqHzGtlArxj3dTWEoKBlxQiqJz1j5Aj5Xil2LmCOKfJivSFUK6Eh0o7xrrcH8b7Z/s1600/Screenshot-187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTicoM8LuxBBPTVH6-p-wpjrtcPzpt1sgwtrnm0Ty_B6RjMz8lSnPHubOU70LME8V_dihvBB6CmJ_vqHzGtlArxj3dTWEoKBlxQiqJz1j5Aj5Xil2LmCOKfJivSFUK6Eh0o7xrrcH8b7Z/s640/Screenshot-187.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You want fries with that?" *snicker*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Meanwhile,<br />
<br />
Isabel successfully figures out the required offerings to trigger the opening of a tomb never before explored by modern Sim-kind.<br />
<br />
Her Adventure begins...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBqUMEsb47ojsyOzYwZTCtOR-yUigxBbfbPUFaMikPG2iT7nvu1DJDmanCJauixs629ZPgjxEhnNbZ3_OH66eYvPG0isOXx9fhTRviqh81SMNnzUGTmz_nvMMM3i7JdD9kowSPD1caeR7/s1600/Screenshot-194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBqUMEsb47ojsyOzYwZTCtOR-yUigxBbfbPUFaMikPG2iT7nvu1DJDmanCJauixs629ZPgjxEhnNbZ3_OH66eYvPG0isOXx9fhTRviqh81SMNnzUGTmz_nvMMM3i7JdD9kowSPD1caeR7/s640/Screenshot-194.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It says here, an ancient offering and a gift from the skies..." <i style="font-weight: bold;">*RUMBLE RUMBLE* </i>"Yep, that's it!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i>Tune in next chapter to find out what mysterious riches and dangers await within ...</i><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Go <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/26-tomb-raider.html">HERE </a>to read the next chapter: 2.6 - "Tomb Raider"</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
Totally fun chapter to write. I got so many great screenshots it was hard to narrow them down to fit one chapter, so I'm cutting this one in half and putting the actual tomb-raiding shots in the next chapter along with more double-agent scamming from our fearless Adventure team getting rich from the relic black market right under Morcucorp's noses!<br />
<br />
Nathan will end up being a computer whiz for his teen-age trait - I've played ahead a bit (saving up shots in case Seasons EP bombs my game next week and I can't play while I sort out any problems with mods). So many great surprises to come as Nate ages up.<br />
<br />
I know I probably made him a bit too smart for his age (he's not a genius like Izzy) but he's actually one day away from his teenage stage during this trip, so I'm considering him to be a very clever 12-13 year old. haha!<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-75784509491103155582012-11-15T23:16:00.000-08:002012-11-25T03:04:53.951-08:002.4 - Family Ties<br />
When Emma got the news that her daughter was arriving in St. Claire in just two days, she wasn't exactly as thrilled as a Mother who has not seen her child in years should be.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWcyAmoIRA15KVpH72UwK0bxzP4jLBCVuIUNF5vqxGbKosJ6B9E3hgxsgZb8umQlCZ3rp19J3hHfXlY-AfZvvrfIMM67XReid17R6PLPiJezqBSATQ1WQ79QqfRFoCYPPGkYTona2ueFH/s1600/Screenshot-213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWcyAmoIRA15KVpH72UwK0bxzP4jLBCVuIUNF5vqxGbKosJ6B9E3hgxsgZb8umQlCZ3rp19J3hHfXlY-AfZvvrfIMM67XReid17R6PLPiJezqBSATQ1WQ79QqfRFoCYPPGkYTona2ueFH/s640/Screenshot-213.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Oh ... why <i>honey</i>, I had no idea you would be coming <i>so soon, </i>that's all!" then stammering a quick cover up apology, "No ..no, it's fine Izzy - I'll find a place for you. I know someone who owes me a favor."<br />
<br />
Emma listened to Isabel's plans, forcing a smile and trying not to sound patronizing. She still thought of Isabel as just a little girl. The same defiant little girl who ran away from boarding school and refused to live with her long ago. It wasn't that she didn't want Isabel to come to St. Claire, its just that she was so busy and hadn't had time to find a place for her daughter to live.<br />
<br />
But, being a small business owner did come with a great many networking opportunities, and Emma knew well how to call in a favor.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbNGPAWy_rE-nj8-VykGKGG1Y5Y4b-9LdHQwnKjlytST80jn48hPn54-41xOZoqkx-iK3ec7eeoApZktUfmnLpsqdiK9i3q9XfSUn1CZFgsd7CMQ2b7Dwkw7ohaHzt-oKg1iJfmyoxcKl/s1600/Screenshot-212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbNGPAWy_rE-nj8-VykGKGG1Y5Y4b-9LdHQwnKjlytST80jn48hPn54-41xOZoqkx-iK3ec7eeoApZktUfmnLpsqdiK9i3q9XfSUn1CZFgsd7CMQ2b7Dwkw7ohaHzt-oKg1iJfmyoxcKl/s640/Screenshot-212.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Thanks for meeting with me on such notice Cicero, I'm really in a bind here and I knew you owned a couple of these old buildings," Emma gushed. She could turn on her charm with ease.<br />
<br />
"No problem doll, anything for you. Of course, since we're even now on favors, how about that date you denied me months ago?" Cicero's large white smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and Emma wasn't fooled. A Euro-Sim investor, Cicero was always looking for another bargain and she didn't intend to be his bonus on the sale.<br />
<br />
"Maybe another time <i>Monsieur Gavalda</i>. I'm so busy with my daughter's arrival and the tourist season is fast approaching. My restaurant is in such sad shape - I have tons to do you know!"<br />
<br />
Emma's casual airs and emphasis on his foreign title gave Cicero the 'not interested' message and so he gave a formal little bow and handed over the keys, reminding her that this was technically an investment property so he could not vouch for the heating and cooling or electrical system in the townhouse. Emma assured him she could secure contractors to help her daughter renovate the place. She'd just made a steal of a deal on the sale for Isabel. Vintage townhouses in historic Bradford neighborhood were being snapped up fast now that the economy was starting to get better. This one, just two doors down from her own, was definitely a 'fixer-upper' but had great potential.<br />
<br />
Isabel had assured her Mother she was ok with a 'fixer-upper' - she didn't intend to be there that often.<br />
<br />
Nathan wasn't as optimistic about the place, however.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwKAujHwvuKCkE2nUFksnWEgWoGdgWbHaGSdd58Rf65bQBHBl05sqL0kjWD3IVJLfpsDORsl68-ykRqc47XI4umMS-_oVJP0hgzItrXcju85DJmZRQRsYnRu3FzGD9Oa7ahKdcmStOzwp/s1600/Screenshot-8+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwKAujHwvuKCkE2nUFksnWEgWoGdgWbHaGSdd58Rf65bQBHBl05sqL0kjWD3IVJLfpsDORsl68-ykRqc47XI4umMS-_oVJP0hgzItrXcju85DJmZRQRsYnRu3FzGD9Oa7ahKdcmStOzwp/s640/Screenshot-8+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This place is a dump, and it smells like old people."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel had bought him a laptop for the trip, and a touch-pad tablet for herself. The only things she'd splurged on outside of the high cost of the move and the new place. <i>Technology </i>was a welcomed addition to their new lives.<br />
<br />
"How do you know what old people smell like Nate?" Isabel asked jokingly while busy reading some higher logic IQ tests she'd downloaded.<br />
<br />
But Nathan had plenty of other things to say about the new place over their chinese takeout dinner.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfV9toXj-jtPI1q6X7hzazVYYj2w8eEm2mCLk94vHDrNFl_tjY4Wg7jBeVRewxa4bU0MHTu9KpkaJd0eJML7Z3MnPDeXf5hyphenhyphenEEJEKKRRQD5DFNppH9JdL8Um79S0b5u-OBy2A1qsvGvCh/s1600/Screenshot+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfV9toXj-jtPI1q6X7hzazVYYj2w8eEm2mCLk94vHDrNFl_tjY4Wg7jBeVRewxa4bU0MHTu9KpkaJd0eJML7Z3MnPDeXf5hyphenhyphenEEJEKKRRQD5DFNppH9JdL8Um79S0b5u-OBy2A1qsvGvCh/s640/Screenshot+(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"There's no fire alarm Izzy and this place is like a billion years old. I'm not sleeping in here."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not too terribly concerned, Isabel asked, "Well where else do you want to sleep lil' bro?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8Zj3bi1BIETmJm16tJdJ90llGsvmF445geiYvPnF4b75E7VaIaM0jd_1mhFX2Fr8hb56G1CYcAJcKb50VQItPjJdifZI-kT9xIIV-s3B3_D2WbT4yBZB8QZLdYSYUelEvqNU_hREmAGZ/s1600/Screenshot-7+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8Zj3bi1BIETmJm16tJdJ90llGsvmF445geiYvPnF4b75E7VaIaM0jd_1mhFX2Fr8hb56G1CYcAJcKb50VQItPjJdifZI-kT9xIIV-s3B3_D2WbT4yBZB8QZLdYSYUelEvqNU_hREmAGZ/s640/Screenshot-7+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I miss Mom and Dad ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel had gotten used to Nate's quirks and fears which were aggravated by the tragedy. He no longer slept anywhere upstairs or with wood flooring or walls and constantly checked the stove. Isabel had specifically asked her Mother to find a place with a privacy fenced in yard so that he could be out there instead. It wasn't much of a 'yard' ... just a small patch of grass next to the steps and a gated wall around the back side of the old brick townhouse.<br />
<br />
But that's exactly where he set up his 'camp' that night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Blm3P2cCIA4cvT_os9_o-b4TI7zb9xER0sUT_XI7gFl-swXVqxDzU2UKqJwZnyN1wUpVg7u3BgQf1yoJv4ywV0eYsXGGg7DhUImUZZmkEdNJOfPAyGp_XfQSWuQFXmStfKpvFFYsX6p3/s1600/Screenshot-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Blm3P2cCIA4cvT_os9_o-b4TI7zb9xER0sUT_XI7gFl-swXVqxDzU2UKqJwZnyN1wUpVg7u3BgQf1yoJv4ywV0eYsXGGg7DhUImUZZmkEdNJOfPAyGp_XfQSWuQFXmStfKpvFFYsX6p3/s640/Screenshot-24.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">online auction web surfing and the baking report channel AM2780, pure joy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel, being the outdoorsy, brave type herself, didn't really think there was any danger in letting him sleep out there. Of course, she's never lived in a big city before either.<br />
<br />
Besides, this new game was just so addicting, she couldn't put it down to worry right now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYceiNRP7iJQHBp8XAB2MemlusPcOnNGDlQ4lA3cBvi6zkbEKziuNawS-42O7PIPi28-Xy6vg6oeP1CfNHSK76hQp9vws1uapxt03qWw_RjW0hxosHZIQRCsEWocdvjkkWHpdijGlAuCX/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYceiNRP7iJQHBp8XAB2MemlusPcOnNGDlQ4lA3cBvi6zkbEKziuNawS-42O7PIPi28-Xy6vg6oeP1CfNHSK76hQp9vws1uapxt03qWw_RjW0hxosHZIQRCsEWocdvjkkWHpdijGlAuCX/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just ten more donuts ... high score ... must keep tapping!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next morning, Isabel got up bright and early, and made an effort at cooking breakfast to try and help Nate feel more at home. She rarely cooked so it was definitely an effort.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf8WDhgNG5UPWX5nNEh5GUy4azVp1Xf0tw6AqPf_FAlKnu90ewDbx2rIHR5LY_iPu18NZgBEZDnjTiOuVFSK9Ak4M1sQ_DqYegCyoUvFHB0kFb19vjg7UQNqBriiBYGznANSBIKGXEPhe/s1600/Screenshot-14+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf8WDhgNG5UPWX5nNEh5GUy4azVp1Xf0tw6AqPf_FAlKnu90ewDbx2rIHR5LY_iPu18NZgBEZDnjTiOuVFSK9Ak4M1sQ_DqYegCyoUvFHB0kFb19vjg7UQNqBriiBYGznANSBIKGXEPhe/s640/Screenshot-14+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh yeah, one handed egg cracking ... I'm a pro ... oops did eggshell just get in the batter?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate was a lot more chipper this morning, so apparently sleeping in his tent went ok. He even remarked that it was good to have a new home in a new town ... along with some typical weirdness thrown in.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJL_heU8G8Y3619kiL-sxStfSZ3QjdUU3qrijNb2M1IqNNfnZml_1b4EU6foTyzswCLQgbIlAYwdPgN_ZCBFaLLbvTlUV3NpK-bGmw5GdVG1eG0q-oylKd9vU-CvSfZUcZxNtgajYPHMw/s1600/Screenshot-18+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJL_heU8G8Y3619kiL-sxStfSZ3QjdUU3qrijNb2M1IqNNfnZml_1b4EU6foTyzswCLQgbIlAYwdPgN_ZCBFaLLbvTlUV3NpK-bGmw5GdVG1eG0q-oylKd9vU-CvSfZUcZxNtgajYPHMw/s640/Screenshot-18+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The way I figure it, they won't get the tracking devices installed here since you gave them your Mom's address next door, right?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Who's this <i>they </i>you refer to Nate?" Isabel focuses on her pancakes. They'd turned out well all things considered. "And why are you doing your old homework again? You haven't even started school here yet."<br />
<br />
Isabel tries to change the subject as sometimes Nate's neurotic ramblings were a little unsettling. Especially since she'd had that cryptic talk with Dr. Midden before leaving Appaloosa Plains. Paranoia was contagious.<br />
<br />
Isabel's mind was distracted by her desire to travel again soon. She pushed the worries aside, for now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TAvHuC-J65qsTV_6o1UeNDFtyfGG1l35-7wxhKb8MUz4u5Cq2j0uaXmuGtwpoAuMAQg_g28qlxlh0kAR39Fy65UGZrMd38JIEdv3scU1H7YUsK1b6SVZG8hOEXovT5R1ePN4wgZpesm9/s1600/Screenshot-20+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TAvHuC-J65qsTV_6o1UeNDFtyfGG1l35-7wxhKb8MUz4u5Cq2j0uaXmuGtwpoAuMAQg_g28qlxlh0kAR39Fy65UGZrMd38JIEdv3scU1H7YUsK1b6SVZG8hOEXovT5R1ePN4wgZpesm9/s640/Screenshot-20+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Traveling keeps me focused. What use is dwelling on sadness and loss?" The mind of an intellectual in denial.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After breakfast, they headed next door to meet the S.M.U. (Sim Mother Unit) as they had jokingly decided to call her. She wasn't related to Nate and he wanted no maternal reminders. Not that Isabel really did either for that matter.<br />
<br />
Emma certainly wasn't going to push any contrived affections.<br />
<br />
"Hello there Nathan, nice to meet you. You look a little like your Father," she forced a smile.<br />
<br />
Nathan tested her. "Greetings SMU, can you identify yourself as a biological organism and prove there is no access panel on the back of your neck please?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqRqgGsXqEFDYWTnpKWi75ySYCAujkjZKYImsobb9wdaHd1QyuA2B6Z45DM_3bTM4wgNI3Pn_ix8SDQKX-SUhRyRRgZUUys0mCUrfEp1WaxEndaNfHjcUyYY5WBttPenEZTAWiMTwu_X_/s1600/Screenshot-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqRqgGsXqEFDYWTnpKWi75ySYCAujkjZKYImsobb9wdaHd1QyuA2B6Z45DM_3bTM4wgNI3Pn_ix8SDQKX-SUhRyRRgZUUys0mCUrfEp1WaxEndaNfHjcUyYY5WBttPenEZTAWiMTwu_X_/s640/Screenshot-34.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Isn't he hilarious Mother? He inherited some of Dad's <i>humorous </i>ideas ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma didn't play along, so she failed the test. Nathan wandered off to check out her big screen television while Isabel and Emma chatted politely about all the pleasantries more distantly related families would probably engage in.<br />
<br />
But if you remember from long ago, Emma's got a knack for being conversationally brilliant. She finally cuts through Isabel's frosty reserve and gets her to open up about Simon's death, which Emma feels twinges of regret and sadness about. A marriage failed, even long ago, is still a painful reminder when a loved one is lost.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVNUQH7htW7zGKwbfm4hoS94P4YXUiw5xmrU4zwqQV6eB_fhHw_0fXbkB4smFrGmF4gjp08qWk_tMgC3qUZvSVEDEu2fNMC7qmAZKR3FjApH1aVkSfAlGH6SzobgUsHoi7mrEMwBxHSuz/s1600/Screenshot-35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVNUQH7htW7zGKwbfm4hoS94P4YXUiw5xmrU4zwqQV6eB_fhHw_0fXbkB4smFrGmF4gjp08qWk_tMgC3qUZvSVEDEu2fNMC7qmAZKR3FjApH1aVkSfAlGH6SzobgUsHoi7mrEMwBxHSuz/s640/Screenshot-35.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's alright Isabel, I loved your Dad too and I'm so sorry you have to suffer this pain."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Bonding obligations done, Emma and Isabel work together on the plans for renovating the townhouse and where Isabel intends to send Nathan to school. Emma suggests a meeting arranged by her own Mother, Isabel's Grandmother. She's on the board of directors for the well-known girl's boarding school Isabel had run away from and can recommend some excellent schools for Nathan since he's now far behind in his current grade and will need private schooling help especially with Isabel's plans to travel again so soon.<br />
<br />
Isabel reluctantly agrees to the meeting as her Mother makes the phone-call. She already knows she will most definitely <b>not </b>be putting Nathan in boarding school. You would think her Mom would remember her own long ago bad reaction to that idea.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo61DtwTfMf9wzE2zStiuYIJIzvAx4EFxWYhhd9ebePJhR4nr7cRM8Vb6vGYpf891WrYOC-pqi4wg566LzgIW8J-A7sT3WCxTd-h8ziy8fBsnkwtHgb7VaUA0ZY9FSS6DOGsf92puImVgB/s1600/Screenshot-76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo61DtwTfMf9wzE2zStiuYIJIzvAx4EFxWYhhd9ebePJhR4nr7cRM8Vb6vGYpf891WrYOC-pqi4wg566LzgIW8J-A7sT3WCxTd-h8ziy8fBsnkwtHgb7VaUA0ZY9FSS6DOGsf92puImVgB/s640/Screenshot-76.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Meeting Grandma Wilson was awkward.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"So you're my daughter's little wild-child, eh? Grew up in that hippie town and ran away from school. I knew no good would come from her running off with that addle brained boy she met from college. Sorry to hear he's dead though, no sense in that, nope, no sense at all."<br />
<br />
Isabel realizes there's thinly veiled insults about herself peppered liberally in there, but she grits her teeth and tries to remain polite.<br />
<br />
Nate seemed determined to make the meeting with the school counselor as difficult as possible too. His helmet and goggles were apparently part of his radiation deflection preparedness armor.<br />
<br />
"Oh hello there Nathan, nice to meet you!" Ms. Bingham's sing-song voice was overly cheerful and forced.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINhTfdagRHxkKeyE-aOoWX-mikDNQZsSItxcc3jSm6FpZP3qsph0mCrgHgEVhyDdyoC6puGIjUB4R9SqNxqUVAyhraU-p6_tVF9-JHu1Pf5Z06eh_gC8Rv9xFeWgVwug7JDAgpb5E09R1/s1600/Screenshot-74.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINhTfdagRHxkKeyE-aOoWX-mikDNQZsSItxcc3jSm6FpZP3qsph0mCrgHgEVhyDdyoC6puGIjUB4R9SqNxqUVAyhraU-p6_tVF9-JHu1Pf5Z06eh_gC8Rv9xFeWgVwug7JDAgpb5E09R1/s640/Screenshot-74.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate mutters under his breath "I didn't realize they made the human skin suits in XL size ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel laughs nervously and tries to quickly avert a disaster if Nathan was going to go into another covert alien-invasion tangent.<br />
<br />
"Nathan Twist, that's enough - be polite please. We're here to meet Ms. Bingham and discuss your enrollment at some private schools here."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFTNlqjm9T4-isSEMbShKMMFM-H6IYl4tWlhnwCMr-uL-Ny2TB2g5SC73SDujRTLVCYEq_cDRVoYlSFmy8FUwDtSsBhOsrnBL7TYg1qsztNwGbT0m6w2LQvgw3H7Dj10GqUbrNrKs3rUb/s1600/Screenshot-60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFTNlqjm9T4-isSEMbShKMMFM-H6IYl4tWlhnwCMr-uL-Ny2TB2g5SC73SDujRTLVCYEq_cDRVoYlSFmy8FUwDtSsBhOsrnBL7TYg1qsztNwGbT0m6w2LQvgw3H7Dj10GqUbrNrKs3rUb/s640/Screenshot-60.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel gives Nate the evil eye. Nate eyes the large woman wearing curtains for a jacket.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Well actually Ms. Twist, that's what I was going to tell you," Ms. Bingham cleared her throat and talked over Nathan as if he wasn't even standing right there.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EgtioMUllxlam5Y2Qt2pgxAExNdUNhCFRuWphZj6pJfP0Vo03D2NBEbfRDDEh6Ig9pbu16dztmDGdWYjpbLWQuKwzBxHwjB3rhtRTc0tkCZm1qkkEYIUGTbv7pp7MidK9pDRhJWrbYhl/s1600/Screenshot-47.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EgtioMUllxlam5Y2Qt2pgxAExNdUNhCFRuWphZj6pJfP0Vo03D2NBEbfRDDEh6Ig9pbu16dztmDGdWYjpbLWQuKwzBxHwjB3rhtRTc0tkCZm1qkkEYIUGTbv7pp7MidK9pDRhJWrbYhl/s640/Screenshot-47.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Nathan's scores and, err, his psychological evaluations sent up here from the counselors in Appaloosa Plains indicate a somewhat ... hmm ... more <i>difficult </i>progress than we're able to handle locally. I do, however, have some very nice brochures for "special education" schools, a couple of them are full-time institutions where he can remain under psychiatric care while regaining his academics and ..." she was suddenly cut short by Isabel's indignant interruption.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT?!</b><br />
<br />
"Are you seriously suggesting my little brother needs to be <i>institutionalized </i>simply because he's suffering post-traumatic stress disorder and a little behind in his school-work? Give me a break lady!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1dxuZyKDkM4jl3lGrAMR_8BisnV-9Udx3-8ZgxCwqAkGFF-rAuSz9X420qwgaey0TK59FZZAZiXeS4MoHAEtt_4KyAx2C6nuYvjRhyphenhyphentXa7nyWlVyeCThg-6FB7VfNwBZgrVZU2HSoQl7/s1600/Screenshot-64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1dxuZyKDkM4jl3lGrAMR_8BisnV-9Udx3-8ZgxCwqAkGFF-rAuSz9X420qwgaey0TK59FZZAZiXeS4MoHAEtt_4KyAx2C6nuYvjRhyphenhyphentXa7nyWlVyeCThg-6FB7VfNwBZgrVZU2HSoQl7/s640/Screenshot-64.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan: "Can we go now, this specimen isn't even funny..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"I'm sorry, but he's just not going to work out in our school, and would be better off sent away for serious rehabilitation," Ms. Bingham looks away in exasperation.<br />
<br />
Nate has his own opinion and though he's been ignored thus far, he feels its time to state his own defense in the matter.<br />
<br />
"Raaaaah!"<br />
<br />
Nate gives his best angry psychotic child impersonation.<br />
<br />
"You promised me you would <b>NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN IZZY!!</b>"<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-rVSYKgD6w9qr-FyNm8lQSh58oOP1I5IaEZrbYVlzfRvueJAdHJrUyUg7PQjTKVaYAAaSqYWdlET-OWhJkj5hYmJSqiDpU0qB7VhTwBWCpVLbBaakio2dLdhl5UydJPW3mejKODMo-0MJ/s1600/Screenshot-72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-rVSYKgD6w9qr-FyNm8lQSh58oOP1I5IaEZrbYVlzfRvueJAdHJrUyUg7PQjTKVaYAAaSqYWdlET-OWhJkj5hYmJSqiDpU0qB7VhTwBWCpVLbBaakio2dLdhl5UydJPW3mejKODMo-0MJ/s640/Screenshot-72.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Woah, ok ok Nate, it's ok!" Isabel calms him down, but then she kinda just lets him go at the counselor lady without interference.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDjrEtohGB4fsJw1pQXXNdLPOcXwNqxX3-PujhvfXsHdDmUN_I2Hs4Wdx3pa7ANTRktcBfTE4Ix2zoQG-i_wrEY6llUSCijGXxfcP6bNPTrq6fSetNMzTERxC2Yz87ajBCYe4v15uRMSma/s1600/Screenshot-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDjrEtohGB4fsJw1pQXXNdLPOcXwNqxX3-PujhvfXsHdDmUN_I2Hs4Wdx3pa7ANTRktcBfTE4Ix2zoQG-i_wrEY6llUSCijGXxfcP6bNPTrq6fSetNMzTERxC2Yz87ajBCYe4v15uRMSma/s640/Screenshot-51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your shoes - are made - of human skin. And. Way too small. Your disguise fails, lizard in ill fitting human suit!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel finally takes his hands and holds him close, stroking his helmet and pleading with the woman to forgive them, as the stress of losing their parents was clearly causing a great deal of anxiety and outbursts. (This was all for the drama of course)<br />
<br />
Poor Ms. Bingham is only too happy to march away in a huff, her dignity bruised by that insane little rude monster.<br />
<br />
Not surprisingly, a baby crying reveals that Ms. Bingham, in fact, hates children. All children.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7nE4oE2nvVXvP3dH-DCq6TKuOn5_OzootHSCcBr9KXLWOdiOHP2ZPFjEZrhLFBB9fO8zWgXCuaqVcKszLRxyRcFvxRiaXvtduzV-9Kg649PJF6apx7ZMjzD5YJlCbEF6-BCgogG_QEAF/s1600/Screenshot-88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7nE4oE2nvVXvP3dH-DCq6TKuOn5_OzootHSCcBr9KXLWOdiOHP2ZPFjEZrhLFBB9fO8zWgXCuaqVcKszLRxyRcFvxRiaXvtduzV-9Kg649PJF6apx7ZMjzD5YJlCbEF6-BCgogG_QEAF/s640/Screenshot-88.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why on earth these types of people get into the education career is quite mystifying, isn't it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And that is how Isabel found herself buying another ticket out of their household budget for Nate to go along to Al Simhara for her return trip. She enrolled him in an online homeschooling program that he could do from his laptop and bravely considered the trip to be a '<i>learning experience</i>' for him.<br />
<br />
Oh he learned alright.<br />
<br />
He hung out in the shops of the market square and read dusty old travel journals.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyufSGhAtqNTvgJjkfDQqYKPNAE6HTSzOhQ8KeSAwiij4WvNENrMar2HeIxESkaEni3wLZJ7Qm1CQED-qqUSqfU4Eqjny3zu_n9DWzWkMlDD2AchM1FBVGEoWBXhTmDxOc9D_hLM74h-5w/s1600/Screenshot-45+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyufSGhAtqNTvgJjkfDQqYKPNAE6HTSzOhQ8KeSAwiij4WvNENrMar2HeIxESkaEni3wLZJ7Qm1CQED-qqUSqfU4Eqjny3zu_n9DWzWkMlDD2AchM1FBVGEoWBXhTmDxOc9D_hLM74h-5w/s640/Screenshot-45+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Meena, who is this boy in our shop?" -- "I don't know Hassan, he's been here all day reading..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He learned about book keeping and accounting from the shop merchants.<br />
<br />
And...<br />
<br />
This is where he learned to remain quite as adults always forgot you were listening.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsYHzZV-55lutslI0e-y8ncHJICk-2ElGf5MqCy7ZPYLGmKSFbFR8EkM5zOX3NxqSCLnVpd_fU_ATorwp-YgI0gefNA-zZ1RiOfzvq56f86-V7_wNDzXGVHAtAY7MCylxbEjxZas_-z4M/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsYHzZV-55lutslI0e-y8ncHJICk-2ElGf5MqCy7ZPYLGmKSFbFR8EkM5zOX3NxqSCLnVpd_fU_ATorwp-YgI0gefNA-zZ1RiOfzvq56f86-V7_wNDzXGVHAtAY7MCylxbEjxZas_-z4M/s640/Screenshot-46.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ahh my beautiful desert rose. I cannot wait to get you alone in our tent tonight ..." -- "Oh Hassan, you naughty man!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He learned to play chess (everyday, required by Isabel for logic skills) and discuss grown up things with his cool sister, who never treated him like a kid.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_jhBtgw4pBbpiYWkcLHNMhu7ROuRqi9Tmncq4drP_ammOD3VTZsq_qMZV-T_9Ap2nnr8gk14VxEAl2eHQh0xS66jtHTxRDdt21HHVmzbd5eCANipISiyNIyFhPXydHOF3ArxG4XLSIlj/s1600/Screenshot-24+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_jhBtgw4pBbpiYWkcLHNMhu7ROuRqi9Tmncq4drP_ammOD3VTZsq_qMZV-T_9Ap2nnr8gk14VxEAl2eHQh0xS66jtHTxRDdt21HHVmzbd5eCANipISiyNIyFhPXydHOF3ArxG4XLSIlj/s640/Screenshot-24+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nope, I'm never getting married either - way too much risk for the buy-in price" (Isabel giggling at him)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate's careful paranoid suspicions also taught him that something was seriously wrong with the local food trucks. They kept getting stuck in the sand trying to get across the bridge and piled up, then abandoned.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI3Exaad0YS68K5zWpO5gatNAwU_TrV5xIvosNWfHGwH_-WtWndMNoqjoVoWszxmzg4Z6GbR36xYaLAyFWI79B16N2JB_MSWevGQoh91omKYRzGqmh8_Od_egXui7esX9czStyGNmJHsK/s1600/Screenshot-79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI3Exaad0YS68K5zWpO5gatNAwU_TrV5xIvosNWfHGwH_-WtWndMNoqjoVoWszxmzg4Z6GbR36xYaLAyFWI79B16N2JB_MSWevGQoh91omKYRzGqmh8_Od_egXui7esX9czStyGNmJHsK/s640/Screenshot-79.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The food trucks were definitely out of place in Al Simhara ... where did the drivers go?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Even better, all of his hanging around and eavesdropping made it possible for him to intercept some business talk between Isabel's local contact and the relic merchant.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RMj5eYZUXWg9NUBdzb2ZXWIvprCTLM88M0DQ0b14ViiA7dyAz18kTGRHrKMZxDGRFwPiJQZsRKxdsIKTrr-xchrkBMEuSk0y5QJ863t8PON_v5zn75aKva3nKDQM7xSk6eYO6R4UIc9J/s1600/Screenshot-35+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RMj5eYZUXWg9NUBdzb2ZXWIvprCTLM88M0DQ0b14ViiA7dyAz18kTGRHrKMZxDGRFwPiJQZsRKxdsIKTrr-xchrkBMEuSk0y5QJ863t8PON_v5zn75aKva3nKDQM7xSk6eYO6R4UIc9J/s640/Screenshot-35+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I want a full report on how many relics she bring in, their value and what she leaves here with, understood?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate was learning what the underbelly of the relic black market looked like and what shady deals were all about. This was fascinating to him, but he kept quiet about it to Isabel. For now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81DC6wvKAxpdvzJ5QM0iJx8akDgDq2EZBN_KQw_w2zQD6E2WiWGcvhnHUDAon2DBo4Sz-zsJJNrTZCms3SRBrvUpHnyeIALCBmCWdjQK6w_3l4pNBLRMBWifPHxHnPFRLQfiJoE54Vfax/s1600/Screenshot-38+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81DC6wvKAxpdvzJ5QM0iJx8akDgDq2EZBN_KQw_w2zQD6E2WiWGcvhnHUDAon2DBo4Sz-zsJJNrTZCms3SRBrvUpHnyeIALCBmCWdjQK6w_3l4pNBLRMBWifPHxHnPFRLQfiJoE54Vfax/s640/Screenshot-38+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see Nate in the distance. He just overheard the reason she's smiling so deviously.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He also learned that the desert was really hot, and boring. And Isabel took <i>forever </i>to dig things up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzehXxwfKB8cdTfZT81hyR1XpQmwk3CutwI9Dt1cDXweb-HidyM5G0bPfwgbQcd4jDqfnv66tjiI4ZMYcnV1pDqVR9kEMKQX98nZV8_i6qb2jGDmGJ1XVmliGzSQ7p_qW138RPd2ramEBq/s1600/Screenshot-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzehXxwfKB8cdTfZT81hyR1XpQmwk3CutwI9Dt1cDXweb-HidyM5G0bPfwgbQcd4jDqfnv66tjiI4ZMYcnV1pDqVR9kEMKQX98nZV8_i6qb2jGDmGJ1XVmliGzSQ7p_qW138RPd2ramEBq/s640/Screenshot-55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One more meticulously recovered relic found ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Izzy, how much longer? I'm thirsty."<br />
<br />
Isabel sighed and kept digging, "Where's your canteen of water?"<br />
<br />
"I drank that hours ago."<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
But the best part about being out in the field with Izzy was how much time they spent together talking and just being together while she worked. This, more than anything, helped Nate talk out his feelings about losing his parents. Isabel was a great listener, and she's the only one who believes him about Mom and Dad's ghosts...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG3SQfHDqOJ8er5pRk-O4XGh2E2XLsfIB9X1Q_Wo6iJQPDKKjpeNeapuJrVwel3ZHJPRv1nzJKlO_RBH4oHgAcn6C7mu2uT1JdRocakEJcKpJAaT7PvuwAAKDBP2e8SfstQ9Vsv35GGmK/s1600/Screenshot-49+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG3SQfHDqOJ8er5pRk-O4XGh2E2XLsfIB9X1Q_Wo6iJQPDKKjpeNeapuJrVwel3ZHJPRv1nzJKlO_RBH4oHgAcn6C7mu2uT1JdRocakEJcKpJAaT7PvuwAAKDBP2e8SfstQ9Vsv35GGmK/s640/Screenshot-49+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Izzy, did you know Mom and Dad visited me the night before we left?" -- Isabel pauses, "Really? Tell me about it..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate smiles happily, remembering what seemed like a dream but was very real.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, they came to the new place, they were looking for us. I was outside in the tent and I, uh, sorta just 'felt' them there. So I went out front and there they were..."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUG8bNHmx1uDm0TXd25BMLNnB0IoLwcUaJFVpgD6Vnp_ZfyadCOdQe3h720uAUSrZ3RQE8dgryY0BWikFVeUHX_Xeiy4lFBHfP4B0pRWP6PrQ5PKrCG-HxJeeoLRnz5LxUsYSBEiFyQ7hA/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUG8bNHmx1uDm0TXd25BMLNnB0IoLwcUaJFVpgD6Vnp_ZfyadCOdQe3h720uAUSrZ3RQE8dgryY0BWikFVeUHX_Xeiy4lFBHfP4B0pRWP6PrQ5PKrCG-HxJeeoLRnz5LxUsYSBEiFyQ7hA/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mom? Dad? Is that really you?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"They said the had come to say how much they loved me, and you too, but they only had a few moments before they had to go away into the spirit world.<br />
<br />
Mom even gave me a ghost hug, which felt kinda funny.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3ngqeNhtyq8vsLbc0F8Fzxa9qpckRVj7xUNNGDBI4hEuvofsmBufvokv3ByDs4byEjdCryDRW_OLuXAlE81hHxCfGtWUW8n8lnWFKWyyngVJBkL8gVsujGYUP5yRgpWj57TjxD4TGBxw/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3ngqeNhtyq8vsLbc0F8Fzxa9qpckRVj7xUNNGDBI4hEuvofsmBufvokv3ByDs4byEjdCryDRW_OLuXAlE81hHxCfGtWUW8n8lnWFKWyyngVJBkL8gVsujGYUP5yRgpWj57TjxD4TGBxw/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love you too Mom"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"They said you were going to be fine, but they were so afraid for me that they came back to reassure me that everything would be ok and best of all, that they would be watching over us, and protecting us both."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIqcxthqSBJYvbHzdysuOyiAHzlt4oZIg08iHgGhT9pcmvFyeCPGYmNWykqgO_FtNAJHdIPSZfcARxswux7mOnAgrjZf9k5gUlpn7eSo6_2CjKKafs4YzVu3uaMVJ-OblrpR9Lt2OcEzD/s1600/Screenshot-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIqcxthqSBJYvbHzdysuOyiAHzlt4oZIg08iHgGhT9pcmvFyeCPGYmNWykqgO_FtNAJHdIPSZfcARxswux7mOnAgrjZf9k5gUlpn7eSo6_2CjKKafs4YzVu3uaMVJ-OblrpR9Lt2OcEzD/s640/Screenshot-21.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We'll be right here watching over you..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"And after that, they just sorta floated away and vanished. It made me sad to see them go, but somehow, it made everything better too. I know I get kinda crazy, but this was not in my head. They were really there Izzy ... and they really love us."<br />
<br />
Isabel had stopped clearing the dirt from her relic and was listening to Nate's story with tears in her eyes. She wondered why they hadn't come to see her too, but she knew how much little Nathan had needed that and was glad.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, everything seemed right again.<br />
<br />
She and Nate are going to be just fine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oZ8_RD5uSHvhcWzyQp58uWoPTemnb26acwnHgp-tfSALex7-EDAZnFx8SC3vwHII_eueGYDx6m0oc4RSwj0hAvnxJVQW0xWgmgNlOOHKQdJoG5gNuCvpgoRoVPW9_U2HQsaTT-7e7ql7/s1600/Screenshot-52+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oZ8_RD5uSHvhcWzyQp58uWoPTemnb26acwnHgp-tfSALex7-EDAZnFx8SC3vwHII_eueGYDx6m0oc4RSwj0hAvnxJVQW0xWgmgNlOOHKQdJoG5gNuCvpgoRoVPW9_U2HQsaTT-7e7ql7/s640/Screenshot-52+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love you Izzy." -- "I love you too Nate."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
~~~~~<br />
<br />
<b>Read Ch. 2.5 - "Risky Ventures" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/25-risky-ventures.html">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-89695185121017921882012-11-09T09:22:00.003-08:002012-11-25T14:02:33.854-08:002.3 - Wrapping up loose endsThe days and weeks following her parents tragic death pass in a blur for Isabel. She has to shove her own emotions aside and be there for Nate as much as possible. She attends to all of the necessary arrangements like a robot on autopilot.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9nD7gOHDH0WyyEtWYk689nyLKAgAajrVAvIeFsvbFbG76_W3FeVVOXo5ME2GGsiY6z5LZj7EOPtze3E9JEoJJ6lbHTQqhqUBYsrB2MnKL704NGo7xMssuA2WrhAi7JI0nnC91hzGCEoi/s1600/Screenshot-138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9nD7gOHDH0WyyEtWYk689nyLKAgAajrVAvIeFsvbFbG76_W3FeVVOXo5ME2GGsiY6z5LZj7EOPtze3E9JEoJJ6lbHTQqhqUBYsrB2MnKL704NGo7xMssuA2WrhAi7JI0nnC91hzGCEoi/s640/Screenshot-138.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan clings to Isabel constantly and won't let her out of his sight, not even at night to sleep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid couldn't understand where his humans had gone this time. He continues to bring in the paper and just hold it. His Master wasn't there to receive it. Isabel was too sad to notice.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAlHxChlStQqmWEEgm3D2C-wE3wMcm5maiTgTP84El0uc9mAMDXUzm2qIf7_719juC6af5F_8gDy8CfWYmAUoqe_ohiDl317dvCoNwjSlmYaBKbqFoKkshLn-rxJ-j9xJ8VJC1FJeFyf-/s1600/Screenshot-273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAlHxChlStQqmWEEgm3D2C-wE3wMcm5maiTgTP84El0uc9mAMDXUzm2qIf7_719juC6af5F_8gDy8CfWYmAUoqe_ohiDl317dvCoNwjSlmYaBKbqFoKkshLn-rxJ-j9xJ8VJC1FJeFyf-/s640/Screenshot-273.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid's an elderly dog now, and very sad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A memorial was held at Cinnamon Falls, which was painfully difficult, though the area where the cabin had been was cleared away, the memories of the fire were still too fresh. Isabel had refused to go, citing too much trauma for Nathan - he was already having nightmares.<br />
<br />
She sent a eulogy letter of remembrance about her parents for the people of the town who would be there, and the mayor read it. He was the new mayor, and Isabel's good friend Katie Lanson's Dad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWk0t6ZrHWNEH9zSebrj62Iolde2M7K693de3YjB8OMXMeTc50Nlo-0-RDBWGZXviNddsdm1QF5ATvoCyS5TeBdso3WOjOl05eTHtClGXUn4STqunMWJbbjdvW_TatMyWTfyd4eR_qYrXM/s1600/Screenshot-324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWk0t6ZrHWNEH9zSebrj62Iolde2M7K693de3YjB8OMXMeTc50Nlo-0-RDBWGZXviNddsdm1QF5ATvoCyS5TeBdso3WOjOl05eTHtClGXUn4STqunMWJbbjdvW_TatMyWTfyd4eR_qYrXM/s640/Screenshot-324.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mayor Lanson of Appaloosa Plains, gives a moving speech at the Twist Memorial.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel talks things over with the mayor and makes the decision to return Camp Cinnamon Falls to the city of Appaloosa Plains, in Simon and Sarah's memory, with a small nameplate on the dock to mark the date.<br />
<br />
She has also, to the protests of many, decided to leave Appaloosa Plains. These plans were still unclear yet but beginning to take shape.<br />
<br />
A few remaining Gilbert siblings had offered their homes to Isabel and Nathan, but none of them were particularly close with the kids and most had busy lives of their own. Sarah's twin sister Stacy had been utterly devastated by the loss of her sister so soon on the tail of her own parents. As a result, their cousin was often over - to 'keep Nate company' since they were of similar age.<br />
<br />
Nathan was simply writing simoleon signs all over his homework and not even trying.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU66BOcNbjFnNWtoIGz_d8Ox1HYb1mYfxVvXHkpnDQGp7NJuAITiypCv1aa4qyBH4COT5TWxY0e8wPsNnJbJ543nlEgzRc3qNDmxEqGOwUgf8Bl0laTYXROFfOtx2H1q2KAC9z8ZndUHZ2/s1600/Screenshot-321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU66BOcNbjFnNWtoIGz_d8Ox1HYb1mYfxVvXHkpnDQGp7NJuAITiypCv1aa4qyBH4COT5TWxY0e8wPsNnJbJ543nlEgzRc3qNDmxEqGOwUgf8Bl0laTYXROFfOtx2H1q2KAC9z8ZndUHZ2/s640/Screenshot-321.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm just going to make a ton of money and build a titanium fire-proof fortress underground so the aliens won't find me when the time comes... you want in on the deal?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The school suggested Nate keep to a normal routine, but school was not going well despite special counseling. This, among other things helps Isabel make the decision to leave. Starting over with a fresh start somewhere else would be good for both of them. The house and the whole town itself held far too many painful memories now.<br />
<br />
Isabel prepares to sell the house and everything in it.<br />
<br />
This was a hard transition too ... Nathan wasn't dealing well with it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7cceBpY12lMjGZXFG51Kf9o5MTSI4WPsExP9sFLGv5JDU6tD1jjL0AgyVd4BCzRicGW2jq-colDCQu7Rq36_v7uUJ12unl0hsMsKtmISSRBE3ej41NAy71rq7-rcCizF8tw-7HLXuCud/s1600/Screenshot-151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7cceBpY12lMjGZXFG51Kf9o5MTSI4WPsExP9sFLGv5JDU6tD1jjL0AgyVd4BCzRicGW2jq-colDCQu7Rq36_v7uUJ12unl0hsMsKtmISSRBE3ej41NAy71rq7-rcCizF8tw-7HLXuCud/s640/Screenshot-151.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"They're just going to chop her up into dog food!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sarah's horse Moonshadow needed a new home. The Gilberts rightfully owned her, but most of them were growing elderly and no longer horse racing except the youngest daughter Megan, who already had several horses. Isabel decided to see if the Steele family would take her as some of their oldest breeding mares had passed on recently.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRunTobrZYGFv6APSenIg2a_Vw_lZi2tdsLNqEeSVGQnffXteZx9tCUQvgC9Hmk0k9m635hLUzw7OVgohn_EImzoXmpihGxX3CyqNloCbU3W44NzbTCRbDUtQynt-JmOnq59o6Dzv7WNMx/s1600/Screenshot-160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRunTobrZYGFv6APSenIg2a_Vw_lZi2tdsLNqEeSVGQnffXteZx9tCUQvgC9Hmk0k9m635hLUzw7OVgohn_EImzoXmpihGxX3CyqNloCbU3W44NzbTCRbDUtQynt-JmOnq59o6Dzv7WNMx/s640/Screenshot-160.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Of course, we'd love to have Moonshadow here, she would be very happy and a welcome addition to our mares"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Old Marcus Steele, Andy's Dad, was happy to take beautiful Moonshadow in and let her live her days out on their beautiful horse ranch.<br />
<br />
He also comforted Isabel and gave her some encouragement.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqNInKBMKaYB-u0d6HC56ezXiFSbmUFVXyPaImX-LYtlDTRA63LvCjoWvGanBBaIkZWT39ZuMb2EvRIrAfMDNhqy1zynM_amg-qMCqVK1EBXo1maucrTD4siu544CXrmffXrlUwgBwo6S/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqNInKBMKaYB-u0d6HC56ezXiFSbmUFVXyPaImX-LYtlDTRA63LvCjoWvGanBBaIkZWT39ZuMb2EvRIrAfMDNhqy1zynM_amg-qMCqVK1EBXo1maucrTD4siu544CXrmffXrlUwgBwo6S/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're a beautiful young woman Isabel, you're going to do just fine."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel had hoped to see Andy one more time, but all of the boys were off having their own careers now, even Chase had left home. Jake was still around, running horse racing circuits and the 'heir' to the Steele Ranch, but he was away from home right now too.<br />
<br />
Sarah led Moonshadow to her new fancy paddock in the Steele's breeding stables.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj73iIz3CXYHPVeDQ8d2L_JOQ-hh9RJUMTwZ_w1Moc6DrL4Il1E38o3rFAC1DsBti7i8toRfnYsmSvKmKcmJ7f7wCFFOWtBC46cnjX2fnoATvaO6NjHtVPRgwL236VJ7WTHIkH5UWxRR3L/s1600/Screenshot-163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj73iIz3CXYHPVeDQ8d2L_JOQ-hh9RJUMTwZ_w1Moc6DrL4Il1E38o3rFAC1DsBti7i8toRfnYsmSvKmKcmJ7f7wCFFOWtBC46cnjX2fnoATvaO6NjHtVPRgwL236VJ7WTHIkH5UWxRR3L/s640/Screenshot-163.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're going to love it here Moonie, it's a really fancy home for horses with lots of fields for you to run free..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The last painful step was what to do about poor old Cupid. Isabel has had Cupid since she was a baby, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving him behind. But, he was getting pretty old now and didn't have much time left. It wouldn't be fair to drag him away from the countryside he was born in and he had lived his whole wolf-doggy life here.<br />
<br />
She makes the decision to leave Cupid with the breeder he had come from because he has lots of siblings, a mate and even his own offspring pups - so Isabel knows he'll be happy living out his remaining days there!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo_G3w5QDC1qA6J1T0y0Tzk4dQayTtWXtH0WmEEMam0dyqlE-puBbfpMCeFGbOnPCotJ6FWO9BYQtedYb4y-P_Czstr1eltaHwGFTN67BEFMIiCB60t7Gj8SJAH4JVA2bQmSeiLS7Tp-J/s1600/Screenshot-169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo_G3w5QDC1qA6J1T0y0Tzk4dQayTtWXtH0WmEEMam0dyqlE-puBbfpMCeFGbOnPCotJ6FWO9BYQtedYb4y-P_Czstr1eltaHwGFTN67BEFMIiCB60t7Gj8SJAH4JVA2bQmSeiLS7Tp-J/s640/Screenshot-169.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Look boy, a lake to swim in, and green fields to run in, and your own personal kennel with doghouse..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Cupid seems to know Isabel's leaving too.<br />
<br />
She explains to him she can't take him traveling with her and he needs to stay here and take care of his dog-family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrkes1u_fhdhODRNrVKuHpP63GLZ2cLh5BZPklKASwUMGRPh1TacwfuU6Fbk1U2gmjSiPQTtoMezz8frCDlGA8xYWuUJfbvD_NGPvDs89fdh9K2eWEbiVOwpIl0WkTsghf80fvgbKKN7g/s1600/Screenshot-177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrkes1u_fhdhODRNrVKuHpP63GLZ2cLh5BZPklKASwUMGRPh1TacwfuU6Fbk1U2gmjSiPQTtoMezz8frCDlGA8xYWuUJfbvD_NGPvDs89fdh9K2eWEbiVOwpIl0WkTsghf80fvgbKKN7g/s640/Screenshot-177.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Aww hey, it's ok old fella, you will always be my best friend no matter what!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid gives her a big doggie-kiss and a hug, which makes Isabel feel better than she has for days.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDGh6nFAveEqyffYsTsRQW4pjbPEbA9Tgt-IKGv_D26p8hdSN3zhNP6kqXDfOjOYWmMyCzonM_SlkJTxhRfLqW_rCf78u9S-FUvZNR8XBqRJpPsMl_BBQsav9xUmaZhVtSxD2uDFSB2Ui/s1600/Screenshot-173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDGh6nFAveEqyffYsTsRQW4pjbPEbA9Tgt-IKGv_D26p8hdSN3zhNP6kqXDfOjOYWmMyCzonM_SlkJTxhRfLqW_rCf78u9S-FUvZNR8XBqRJpPsMl_BBQsav9xUmaZhVtSxD2uDFSB2Ui/s640/Screenshot-173.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love you too Cupid!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And now there's just one last thing to do - she's got to find Dr. Midden and talk to him before he leaves town too.<br />
<br />
The last thing her Dad had told her was that he was stepping down and retiring as Director of the Science Facility and moving away - but he hadn't left yet. Isabel hadn't heard from him, or anyone for that matter, regarding her job position or whether she could transfer to another facility elsewhere. She had to focus on this, it was her future and somehow the thought of escaping back to Al Simhara was a soothing thought amid all this sadness.<br />
<br />
Isabel finally gets a return call from Kenji Midden. He asks her to meet him at a local tavern, which seems odd, but he <i>has </i>retired after all, so maybe that's to be expected. Seeing him half drunk and playing video games is much less expected.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMi6Gn7bwxtSvCCTt9qoK_Wth0207UCfCSfNGOO49W9_nrU87IuNdcbcdL3xwwY4ZSd3IYK303OLYh2aDzq-EnfpGSD58M4ZgDhn1l3leN7qNPplWEADODgppo1pyywwzbbXVHJvplXsA/s1600/Screenshot-186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMi6Gn7bwxtSvCCTt9qoK_Wth0207UCfCSfNGOO49W9_nrU87IuNdcbcdL3xwwY4ZSd3IYK303OLYh2aDzq-EnfpGSD58M4ZgDhn1l3leN7qNPplWEADODgppo1pyywwzbbXVHJvplXsA/s640/Screenshot-186.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hang on my dear, let me get just one more level cleared and I'll be right with ya ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Dr. Midden turns and speaks softly to Isabel. She can hardly hear him over the blaring bar music and the sound effects of the video game, but apparently that's the idea - to mask their conversation.<br />
<br />
She asks him about her position with the Archaeology Department. He shakes his head and motions for her to be quiet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9ku3d1LjWf0sdfVBm-DWDYu0BKn_tK0CqTyj-msb1uls5vc7LiKqPSw8WUwQgFzImpSVxIRd4APz-UYgNxXiYtQKMnDXEs-Wo7kzcmYuO6a7z9_Wnjg-pBJaKG0pa2e3B5f8iUhzQzwW/s1600/Screenshot-190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9ku3d1LjWf0sdfVBm-DWDYu0BKn_tK0CqTyj-msb1uls5vc7LiKqPSw8WUwQgFzImpSVxIRd4APz-UYgNxXiYtQKMnDXEs-Wo7kzcmYuO6a7z9_Wnjg-pBJaKG0pa2e3B5f8iUhzQzwW/s640/Screenshot-190.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dr. Midden, what am I supposed to do now for work?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He speaks hesitantly, and Isabel leans in to hear him better.<br />
<br />
<i>"My dear Isabel, listen carefully to me. Your Dad was often going on about off-the-wall conspiracy theories. Most of it was just his neurotic ramblings. But this time, he was right. I can't tell you everything, nor do I have answers you want ... just hear me out."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Kenji puts another coin in the video game before going on.<br />
<br />
<i>"You may be contacted and offered the chance to return to your field archaeology studies with a new team. I don't advise you to<b> </b>accept any full time internal positions no matter how lucrative the offer. And, whatever you do, don't go prying into anymore archive files at Wolfson's or any other science facility - it is a rather dangerous time right now."</i><br />
<br />
Isabel wants so badly to ask Dr. Midden if he has any suspicions about her Father's death, since this is essentially what he had apparently been trying to communicate to her that last phone call. But she keeps quiet and nods as he continues.<br />
<br />
<i>"The funding of our project has long been an issue and internal structure changes often. If you're a smart girl, you'll just keep to your tasks as assigned in the field and do not try to become friendly with your superiors abroad. Don't ask too many questions, especially where <b>MorcuCorp </b>is concerned - ok?"</i><br />
<br />
Just as Isabel's about to ask Dr. Midden why he's decided to retire and if he's involved in this structure change, a loud female voice interrupts and ends their conversation. Kenji heads for the bar.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcg8gy_Zr_b3-Y-OkFdg3LupjNwpaTQJMkQXkNTqN9wsap9ses66TfrPsJjmHCNz4hC7VojltWZoYbJRoEirmu2gOfviSuAAGSm2wBotr_ffZCDdGI_sTKG_Q-3biQgbDutFJe7lanuz1/s1600/Screenshot-198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcg8gy_Zr_b3-Y-OkFdg3LupjNwpaTQJMkQXkNTqN9wsap9ses66TfrPsJjmHCNz4hC7VojltWZoYbJRoEirmu2gOfviSuAAGSm2wBotr_ffZCDdGI_sTKG_Q-3biQgbDutFJe7lanuz1/s640/Screenshot-198.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Isabel Twist, is that youuu? I'm yer Aunt Megan, Sarah's lil' sister.... <hic> thish terrible! Gladys get this girl a drink!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel apologizes and says she really can't stay and have a drink, she has to get home to Nate.<br />
<br />
"You bring that boy 'round to our farm sometime, always welcome!" Megan tosses back another drink.<br />
<br />
Kenji walks Sarah outside and gives her a quick, but awkward hug goodbye and says he will keep in touch when he can and wishes her well.<br />
<br />
Lastly, he tells her "Remember, your Dad was a <i>good </i>man, I'll miss him, and you too."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigclEyybebFFAAoy85HPsYPDA3AkrxWYhWkA-0peaB95LSYhO4piYRwD1LtYuCAjIl-RbnA7PRdWiNLFFZ-IEV40SDCZK_AtxyTZQrs0hDs8MJhmL5HpNkUXZKw5lsZuas1On9DA2DON60/s1600/Screenshot-196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigclEyybebFFAAoy85HPsYPDA3AkrxWYhWkA-0peaB95LSYhO4piYRwD1LtYuCAjIl-RbnA7PRdWiNLFFZ-IEV40SDCZK_AtxyTZQrs0hDs8MJhmL5HpNkUXZKw5lsZuas1On9DA2DON60/s640/Screenshot-196.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Take care of yourself and be safe out there..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The very last loose end to tie up is where they were going to go. Once the sale of the house comes through, and the insurance money from the fire, Isabel has just enough money to find a new place and not much time. As Kenji predicted, a new project team lead contacted her and offered a transfer to freelance archaeologist working under a third party special interest group. Travel would be up to her, but compensation for her relic recovery work would be well paid but she must leave immediately to meet their deadlines.<br />
<br />
Isabel took the offer, and made a quick decision to move to St. Claire where her Mother was located, as it was an address she had on hand to give them for reporting purposes.<br />
<br />
Of course, she hadn't exactly talked to her Mom about it since they had not talked since the holidays the year before. She wasn't even sure Emma knew of Simon's death. Calling her was awkward.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB_wiTuF5vxMDBLMgqE8VYv81b3PT6WQOjuTpiix8NlzzpwBGdbZU5GHg9W1C0a2a69_yozHItlEV-gyHKk9SZItlpcry9d2NzqzsfAgkQusyp4f_RzwTR7E-Ybqn-q0l6GynnwbLZbiA/s1600/Screenshot-216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB_wiTuF5vxMDBLMgqE8VYv81b3PT6WQOjuTpiix8NlzzpwBGdbZU5GHg9W1C0a2a69_yozHItlEV-gyHKk9SZItlpcry9d2NzqzsfAgkQusyp4f_RzwTR7E-Ybqn-q0l6GynnwbLZbiA/s640/Screenshot-216.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why, of course you and... your ... <i>half-brother</i> can come stay here" (the emphasis on that word was not lost on Isabel)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma apologized for not being there, she had apparently just been contacted by Mayor Lanson's wife, and old friend of hers, regarding the accident. She had sent flowers to the memorial and tried to call Isabel, but her voice mail was off. Isabel hadn't really been ready to take a lot of calls yet anyways, so she reassured Emma there was no need for apologizing.<br />
<br />
Emma goes on to rattle away about how she knew the best real estate agents in St. Claire and there were even a few empty renovation townhouses along her street in historic Bradford neighborhood. Isabel's mind tunes most of this out, and she mumbles a thanks and agreement to take whatever Emma can find in her price range and says she's got to start packing them up.<br />
<br />
Emma's changed quite a bit since she left Simon and Appaloosa Plains long ago.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXND1D5OnRCvasYvbLZJFKI7dkRYFYKnq6Kzjj8Hlnh27Q9nx9Hkbcs5NnNCPa07rp1SVp4Jfs9euGTo0R140eP350NzEXwBARa6Sa9OE1o71gTe_ZL45QcG2xvVqZvIR23Inlw6QpNKj/s1600/Screenshot-206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXND1D5OnRCvasYvbLZJFKI7dkRYFYKnq6Kzjj8Hlnh27Q9nx9Hkbcs5NnNCPa07rp1SVp4Jfs9euGTo0R140eP350NzEXwBARa6Sa9OE1o71gTe_ZL45QcG2xvVqZvIR23Inlw6QpNKj/s640/Screenshot-206.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"So many plans to make, so little time to get everything organized!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A wealthy, successful small business owner, Emma now runs her own cafe in Bradford. She's aged into her middle years elegantly, but spends most of her time attending socialite functions and is rarely ever home. Having her daughter live nearby seems like a great idea so long as it doesn't affect her <i>busy schedule</i> ...<br />
<br />
Isabel doesn't have to hear this to know exactly what her Mom's life is like. She's thankful she won't be around that much either, since work will take her abroad.<br />
<br />
Traveling would be good for Nathan too, if she can just convince him to get on the plane.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRh6GsGpJYbbk8lufsXtjPT0yFsG1cr4fSxj6pSID_MloQuTnQrBRRMN3wtIkVKBhYZqmXJ9p-cI729D1K_SD6-uGCr8Hha-7ZxjhSbcDYyA0vr1yMb61UKQQCWxVKZY0BY12_Y6yCJ3X/s1600/Screenshot-144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRh6GsGpJYbbk8lufsXtjPT0yFsG1cr4fSxj6pSID_MloQuTnQrBRRMN3wtIkVKBhYZqmXJ9p-cI729D1K_SD6-uGCr8Hha-7ZxjhSbcDYyA0vr1yMb61UKQQCWxVKZY0BY12_Y6yCJ3X/s640/Screenshot-144.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nate, we're going to go on a big adventure and see new places and do fun things - <i>together</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But true to his Father's genetics, Nathan immediately begins to think of all the plots.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIHrVBNgs_jq2aCDBogxAf4aTnD6_sN5Mn6ZzjrNpju_Fk38pSkVMXca7hvPl7rFPDwGYvkk-mpVk6TVawxYWVBinA-cvDnE7Wg2wfAG4HG97-b-3-G0X5-teMkevOTCBRQspNAbeuosT/s1600/Screenshot-142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIHrVBNgs_jq2aCDBogxAf4aTnD6_sN5Mn6ZzjrNpju_Fk38pSkVMXca7hvPl7rFPDwGYvkk-mpVk6TVawxYWVBinA-cvDnE7Wg2wfAG4HG97-b-3-G0X5-teMkevOTCBRQspNAbeuosT/s640/Screenshot-142.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What if we get hijacked and they force us to fly into space to meet the alien Mothership??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel hugs him tight and again, reassures him everything's going to work out ok, and she was going to stick by him no matter what.<br />
<br />
Underneath all the alien talk, there's just a scared little boy missing his Mama.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStHvuxVRExg9zlcI1yYIGr9nvQ0yZSyRPOaiii0toaRynBmxf11UCOtQMuFsF6FwqGEv9uSi4bmnICzcKTxASa1deZnmUA9EMYETrh5lpZdtApeAWFF-P3xf6hPzmUnz9dqr2wHfWE6z3/s1600/Screenshot-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStHvuxVRExg9zlcI1yYIGr9nvQ0yZSyRPOaiii0toaRynBmxf11UCOtQMuFsF6FwqGEv9uSi4bmnICzcKTxASa1deZnmUA9EMYETrh5lpZdtApeAWFF-P3xf6hPzmUnz9dqr2wHfWE6z3/s640/Screenshot-149.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I gotta be strong and keep Mom in my heart forever."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And so the Twist siblings bid Appaloosa Plains farewell and head off to the city of St. Clair for their next adventure in life.<br />
<br />
Isabel's determined it will be a good one!<br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
Bonus Shot: Since there's been heavy hearts and lots of sad good-byes, I thought I'd throw in this one silly picture I caught of good ol' Kanoa Parrott, elderly, and jogging down the road in his 'petty thief' getup as a parting farewell to Appaloosa Plains.<br />
<br />
Goddess Envie: <i>"No, Kanoa, wearing your mirrored ray-bans over your thief mask does not hide your identity better. You suck at being a criminal too!"</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Eubyj0T4h-Xh2xz3ZDrjVpiV6CZyOVS2y5t4K9E3x9y2yX4BB2NmAJHqh3SuxaxjUrjhxrodbVJHLyqA8BcCb8G4USXANgRMM3G29fRLcTN7ooqULFbD9JSEnPZ3XwtRVvC5g5CQ2zSj/s1600/Screenshot-141+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Eubyj0T4h-Xh2xz3ZDrjVpiV6CZyOVS2y5t4K9E3x9y2yX4BB2NmAJHqh3SuxaxjUrjhxrodbVJHLyqA8BcCb8G4USXANgRMM3G29fRLcTN7ooqULFbD9JSEnPZ3XwtRVvC5g5CQ2zSj/s640/Screenshot-141+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're a mess dude!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Read on to chapter 2.4 "Family Ties" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/24-family-ties.html">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes: Just a filler chapter as I'm gearing up for Isabel and Nate's first adventures abroad (yes, together) as well as their new home in St. Claire.<br />
<br />
Things are looking up again. =)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-33371823638936953682012-11-05T08:52:00.001-08:002012-11-09T09:24:10.108-08:002.2 - Be Brave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The policewoman was walking up the driveway.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Isabel felt like she was caught in a slow motion video.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOzmXwRmN95y8tSNYC_3BtqbxuBitVXBTmzDlBtNJyJeyf-5qgUS0OQcJ73HPA-jDfXNkgfpEdf5_T8oqEJdZWu0-Yk2YWoythR0kiou_88sZqu0lYBI1Z3jPyIATePVXB96Ylfwc3cuV/s1600/Screenshot-56+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOzmXwRmN95y8tSNYC_3BtqbxuBitVXBTmzDlBtNJyJeyf-5qgUS0OQcJ73HPA-jDfXNkgfpEdf5_T8oqEJdZWu0-Yk2YWoythR0kiou_88sZqu0lYBI1Z3jPyIATePVXB96Ylfwc3cuV/s640/Screenshot-56+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Be Brave Isabel..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The police showing up just as she got home from Al-Simhara was definitely disconcerting, but the fireman who pulled up next was even more alarming.<br />
<br />
The officer kept her professional face on.<br />
<br />
"Are you Isabel Twist? Could you tell me where your Father Simon might have been last night after midnight?"<br />
<br />
Isabel tried not to panic.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3napSlP9VRklalP51h4uaICj6P4GUI0Knzitr1x4zrLoV8ClMp_HBaJj98Ui9TiXah-1o8QqA0dfunmBraXw3tlpiLLPNKGDEQLG7PDo1mvTdy0qv6Mi6CtFO2ydsOnWwa3HdRBbegAI/s1600/Screenshot-49+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3napSlP9VRklalP51h4uaICj6P4GUI0Knzitr1x4zrLoV8ClMp_HBaJj98Ui9TiXah-1o8QqA0dfunmBraXw3tlpiLLPNKGDEQLG7PDo1mvTdy0qv6Mi6CtFO2ydsOnWwa3HdRBbegAI/s640/Screenshot-49+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My...my Father, is he alright? He called me last night earlier in the evening but the call cut off... what's going on??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The police officer's face creased with concern and gruff anger as she struggled with the information she had to give Isabel.<br />
<br />
"You need to come with us immediately to Cinnamon Falls Campground. There's .... there's been an accident and we're not sure if its a crime scene yet or not."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM_3pVhpwMczzRz4urmPjTpF4MhD9JV5PwQnGkToq9R0AZe7N76ZsroPvwCj3mAr8RHYP5jJsgVdz9Y2p1PaLArpEYJ_bAwLlYltJeRtr1MRh_WCOfKXBx-dwFu2uObd7q9JJX94Y1rro/s1600/Screenshot-45+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM_3pVhpwMczzRz4urmPjTpF4MhD9JV5PwQnGkToq9R0AZe7N76ZsroPvwCj3mAr8RHYP5jJsgVdz9Y2p1PaLArpEYJ_bAwLlYltJeRtr1MRh_WCOfKXBx-dwFu2uObd7q9JJX94Y1rro/s640/Screenshot-45+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What's happened?!?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Without even thinking ... Isabel's brave instincts kick in and she starts running up the road towards the campground. The police and fire chief follow her, trying to convince her to get in so they can drive her there, but Isabel's out of her mind right now.<br />
<br />
She knows what she'll find when she gets there before she's even made it all the way up the dirt road leading to the campground.<br />
<br />
She can see the smoke rising in the early pre-dawn sky.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUYCHyMz-vMZ-18jYFFuDjm_fPGcEMINQOytU4FntPYdBdIfJBDxw0iIHA8gOARDbv6mkoQ9i0Ytb_9npk3hBUeO4g3E2oAEusUwaVgtNpSaKTWdYc9hLCJi-EW91uBKj-jIsytL7gM06/s1600/Screenshot-65+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUYCHyMz-vMZ-18jYFFuDjm_fPGcEMINQOytU4FntPYdBdIfJBDxw0iIHA8gOARDbv6mkoQ9i0Ytb_9npk3hBUeO4g3E2oAEusUwaVgtNpSaKTWdYc9hLCJi-EW91uBKj-jIsytL7gM06/s640/Screenshot-65+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cabin was on fire!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She knew, instinctively, that her Dad must be in there...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQyFrhi8f8GPp5c2a4tv83r_oxRltde-ndM2q43xWdoebekeYycN7FT62kuyjQ6rEd0qmi_coeO678SlpcnTJckouNN_o1fIjoGrvWUTIju83E6Ewl3D5kZI0fRVCqWiPylMHxXzX4Ex4d/s1600/Screenshot-77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQyFrhi8f8GPp5c2a4tv83r_oxRltde-ndM2q43xWdoebekeYycN7FT62kuyjQ6rEd0qmi_coeO678SlpcnTJckouNN_o1fIjoGrvWUTIju83E6Ewl3D5kZI0fRVCqWiPylMHxXzX4Ex4d/s640/Screenshot-77.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As she ran past the police car and fire trucks, the officers grabbed her to prevent her from getting any closer and pulled her back to the road.<br />
<br />
<i>"Miss, stop! You can't go up there, its too dangerous, the fire .... the building is unstable!"</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUZfOWSskZdQJaiP18eyi0jBDEw8nggSxDCIVy-tDVKh02xxjwXd_VKjbSSyOhBoXevhv3LsWE8U1nZrXm5W0QB46LmHBKAJyIyhu0Sok2Z-0OURXAFB2EghCsFde-i9eanpXPPIj8Ush/s1600/Screenshot-60+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUZfOWSskZdQJaiP18eyi0jBDEw8nggSxDCIVy-tDVKh02xxjwXd_VKjbSSyOhBoXevhv3LsWE8U1nZrXm5W0QB46LmHBKAJyIyhu0Sok2Z-0OURXAFB2EghCsFde-i9eanpXPPIj8Ush/s640/Screenshot-60+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Where's my FATHER?! ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel suddenly felt like a helpless little girl again. Everything was so surreal and unimaginably horrifying.<br />
<br />
The sound of a child crying was not Isabel. There was someone more helpless than herself to think about.<br />
<br />
It was Nathan. He jumped out of the back of the police car where they had been trying to comfort him and rushed towards his sister.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWO83YRh4Kb-JbZ2M7fKHoO3UDFVwyQ7iw0DahqM45YatRjSh8yCrX0EUO9Z6AGRYVWTe8wTiMoeDKrEVsDJYq0vwPzV2guLi8dNDmaZs5QEI-sE-Um7lU5q297Y5kOi1QA7FA5l5xctiE/s1600/Screenshot-53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWO83YRh4Kb-JbZ2M7fKHoO3UDFVwyQ7iw0DahqM45YatRjSh8yCrX0EUO9Z6AGRYVWTe8wTiMoeDKrEVsDJYq0vwPzV2guLi8dNDmaZs5QEI-sE-Um7lU5q297Y5kOi1QA7FA5l5xctiE/s640/Screenshot-53.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nate? Where's your Mom, and Dad?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>"IZZZZZIE!!!!!"</b><br />
<br />
<br />
The police officer told her that Nathan had been sleeping in one of the camp tents outside when the fire had erupted. This had probably saved his life. Others camping at the falls had called 911.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I24E90jhAVDXsnKFq5Xh9WqAk-DLYSkyYNWbxYfNI7Nv_Lz1N83UbhqbtSqcNisfkTyZ9EsoCU0eung5LUsgZ2ncEUzyldrbAEPagwPnIzqJQ10qX-_Z_VKXEmLWx2pD214P-0YNpFVI/s1600/Screenshot-54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I24E90jhAVDXsnKFq5Xh9WqAk-DLYSkyYNWbxYfNI7Nv_Lz1N83UbhqbtSqcNisfkTyZ9EsoCU0eung5LUsgZ2ncEUzyldrbAEPagwPnIzqJQ10qX-_Z_VKXEmLWx2pD214P-0YNpFVI/s640/Screenshot-54.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Shhh, Nate! It's ok ... It's ok, I'm here!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan was completely incoherent and sobbing. Isabel hugged him tightly.<br />
<br />
A cracking sound, like wood snapping interrupted them. They rushed towards the billowing cloud of smoke coming from the cabin along with others who had been at the campground and had witnessed the fire.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsu5XFKSiezjXRtDfMXTCYbx1-LynVYMSlQG4SSD9TJPvDaEstc0gxgA6zAcCnnLBYOfiP7yRPW9aGfyBvsMDrqAx7TuKSvbz7DEnKIZF-ADC0NmbIYo_CB61E8uA9d_PdMCZkAjcyWYA/s1600/Screenshot-48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsu5XFKSiezjXRtDfMXTCYbx1-LynVYMSlQG4SSD9TJPvDaEstc0gxgA6zAcCnnLBYOfiP7yRPW9aGfyBvsMDrqAx7TuKSvbz7DEnKIZF-ADC0NmbIYo_CB61E8uA9d_PdMCZkAjcyWYA/s640/Screenshot-48.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suddenly there was nothing left but a huge cloud of smoke.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A huge popping sound, followed by a crash so loud it echoed off the sides of the canyon froze everyone in place for a second.<br />
<br />
Isabel held onto Nathan by his shirt so he could not run any closer to the collapsing building.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAXwJEdtQljfFhiJ5QDPTmLZ_sKEdqhAcW1hMRhUVms4sVEzoGfGkGMBJDMp4sWNMukUKZjn-_Fb4NlBEvwSdHlPrlbATtMVns9k5RBVhl_zLXkhgxkFRt42IZYqcfxAGMCFWYXu0eZBM/s1600/Screenshot-71+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAXwJEdtQljfFhiJ5QDPTmLZ_sKEdqhAcW1hMRhUVms4sVEzoGfGkGMBJDMp4sWNMukUKZjn-_Fb4NlBEvwSdHlPrlbATtMVns9k5RBVhl_zLXkhgxkFRt42IZYqcfxAGMCFWYXu0eZBM/s640/Screenshot-71+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Children should never have to witness a tragedy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
Isabel knew her Father, and Nathan's Mother were in there.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRwPuXNyxPTa5Q60QMntHbSYXiSkqSdKkyO_TTZuLjyzz37Sgapxn7xU-AW7uV4e97jZRg11YmyeLlut7iVSE-eiIhgHo3SsvkSLMCDl1Uu-2DLiYarIqSkf8q_THkqD7VfApefDTLVu4/s1600/Screenshot-63+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRwPuXNyxPTa5Q60QMntHbSYXiSkqSdKkyO_TTZuLjyzz37Sgapxn7xU-AW7uV4e97jZRg11YmyeLlut7iVSE-eiIhgHo3SsvkSLMCDl1Uu-2DLiYarIqSkf8q_THkqD7VfApefDTLVu4/s640/Screenshot-63+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This can't be happening ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The slow motion video suddenly sped up into fast forward ... everything happened so quickly.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isabel felt like she was outside her body watching this as a movie playing out in reverse ...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqX9WWT9lOCd-28HX8y5ETOofTLt16NSXN_ccVb8HUe6MyLSfEqv6jFhQjh86Tf2T4_pPqBNn6MqK4kC8Qg71rNTV_ygQzAH_kut1TKztyZ6l3darV08jEPM-60-ZdUWjZQgJq_lR2uYWV/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqX9WWT9lOCd-28HX8y5ETOofTLt16NSXN_ccVb8HUe6MyLSfEqv6jFhQjh86Tf2T4_pPqBNn6MqK4kC8Qg71rNTV_ygQzAH_kut1TKztyZ6l3darV08jEPM-60-ZdUWjZQgJq_lR2uYWV/s640/Screenshot-115.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"There's no way to reach the top floor from outside ... grab the ladders!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The firemen had made it into the first floor but could not get upstairs, the fire was blocking the stairs and the cabin was set too far off the road to get the truck close. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BHJyK9qNFbceYrvuxmdP6uCO93U9ANxUg0lrl5EnC83XbGFSuI8ogQpFSy4x38EwQ9-Coh_3MT4OYX-dXrB8S19dSDnn5Mh2UYgkoOqS023EDhoa9fq5RulgyUlpuqNpJXuQyx3_TX23/s1600/Screenshot-105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BHJyK9qNFbceYrvuxmdP6uCO93U9ANxUg0lrl5EnC83XbGFSuI8ogQpFSy4x38EwQ9-Coh_3MT4OYX-dXrB8S19dSDnn5Mh2UYgkoOqS023EDhoa9fq5RulgyUlpuqNpJXuQyx3_TX23/s640/Screenshot-105.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's going to fall, we have to get out!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Realizing the roof was about to collapse, they had narrowly gotten out, dragging an unconscious man along with them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Paramedics were just arriving and rushing to aid the man now laying at Nathan's feet. He was in shock and needing medical help too.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSqloq5UiMX-9bOYnpkJZGW8_3anrl8tDSG55RoCgtWI7aHxkhGyi3jPJgzvLsCvYB4i1npeRdQ67qT-EsnZzJcnAKmpoZVRvS-0WmWMCMJkWzQ-TVHYtTff7Nrg67v3ky-Cn3ksTn-_J/s1600/Screenshot-31+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSqloq5UiMX-9bOYnpkJZGW8_3anrl8tDSG55RoCgtWI7aHxkhGyi3jPJgzvLsCvYB4i1npeRdQ67qT-EsnZzJcnAKmpoZVRvS-0WmWMCMJkWzQ-TVHYtTff7Nrg67v3ky-Cn3ksTn-_J/s640/Screenshot-31+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Reuben Reid had been revived from smoke inhalation and confirmed that both Simon and Sarah Twist had been inside, upstairs sleeping when the gas stove just installed downstairs had exploded, shooting flames up the chimney and catching the small wood burning stove upstairs on fire. He had tried to get to them, but passed out at the doorway.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The fireman who had come to the house, stood behind Isabel and whispered quietly that he was so sorry, he had not been able to save anyone upstairs when the roof had collapsed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2uTHO93jnQ2Mz-OSo-xkePx6l6OQQkgkCDtpXdcDtfkAcujL_KWbXb4gSy1ICIpY4NWDqnocuCGa-IFwfhnzoFyK-FVeGwEZIvsBXeKgrLdT1LHGfz9kJ4YIfZfW4bVXXX3jNHZOwzhX/s1600/Screenshot-59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2uTHO93jnQ2Mz-OSo-xkePx6l6OQQkgkCDtpXdcDtfkAcujL_KWbXb4gSy1ICIpY4NWDqnocuCGa-IFwfhnzoFyK-FVeGwEZIvsBXeKgrLdT1LHGfz9kJ4YIfZfW4bVXXX3jNHZOwzhX/s640/Screenshot-59.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Their parents were dead. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There was no amount of bravery that could help now.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2z_SnAGQCd1Z6wEX3AsHhbadcCwA9MHYvAw1aHkkCXD16c8J5lDYkpl5fl7DOfp5iiORXOKM2ODXtaFqvKatkeL7SO-rzI-xt_-lmkfCnjdAP8DHd_BiHmYQzWREMbrnKjkDc6-duisO/s1600/Screenshot-56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2z_SnAGQCd1Z6wEX3AsHhbadcCwA9MHYvAw1aHkkCXD16c8J5lDYkpl5fl7DOfp5iiORXOKM2ODXtaFqvKatkeL7SO-rzI-xt_-lmkfCnjdAP8DHd_BiHmYQzWREMbrnKjkDc6-duisO/s640/Screenshot-56.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Hours passed before the fire could be put out with only a few remaining hot spots. The cabin had been reduced to nothing more than a shell with smoldering rubble. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz6U1n0PuwI-BOvlzZHy1anPnr3eDq6hXpiArI6W3-D9iA96gh5wxKbzwRTmjva4n2Hi2inTVxDj5DSevXGlIGQHvtg6Je3c93EaunXTz4NPUE6kh1_7sC0omp6lDhyphenhyphensDkho7IGQHyHQkD/s1600/Screenshot-64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz6U1n0PuwI-BOvlzZHy1anPnr3eDq6hXpiArI6W3-D9iA96gh5wxKbzwRTmjva4n2Hi2inTVxDj5DSevXGlIGQHvtg6Je3c93EaunXTz4NPUE6kh1_7sC0omp6lDhyphenhyphensDkho7IGQHyHQkD/s640/Screenshot-64.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The broken gas line still burned all night ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The gas explosion and fire had been so hot, there wasn't much left to identify of the remains. Forensics would be called in and the police set up an investigation crime scene to rule out arson or foul play.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isabel and Nate had passed out from exhaustion and crying huddled together in one of the camp tents while police and emergency crews worked long into the morning.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There were witnesses to question, and extended family to notify.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isabel painfully dreamed of the last time she had seen her Dad and Sarah. She was kissing Andy goodbye before her trip and they had been sitting on the deck, holding hands lovingly. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJve_zUUby-f19Uzfrj5FZTYTxqij71k0Cl6Gxhla5NzYWAbfXLUz9VQhExQKhyphenhyphenEmmL5G5tdjMA1Je6MIeE8-8bgwPRblI8uWwsHUzyr3obDzhyphenhyphenO7BPWO4TmTan88YtVQspVbJ8cXn9XpL/s1600/Screenshot-377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJve_zUUby-f19Uzfrj5FZTYTxqij71k0Cl6Gxhla5NzYWAbfXLUz9VQhExQKhyphenhyphenEmmL5G5tdjMA1Je6MIeE8-8bgwPRblI8uWwsHUzyr3obDzhyphenhyphenO7BPWO4TmTan88YtVQspVbJ8cXn9XpL/s640/Screenshot-377.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dream-like glow of sunset and love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But now it was morning - the dream was gone. Isabel stumbled out of the cold tent to find the campground now quiet and mostly deserted. The cops and fire crew were wrapping up their investigation and were heading home, exhausted.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Before Nate woke up, she slipped quietly past the police barricades and stood on the porch of the now blackened shell of the cabin.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpHjcj-qdMAn4-0kPtHY9rbyTbJ-mBRvrv4ifH-C9pfIGZgpqZToQ917jOjc63jOJLEeecwbGCqUvVc8XaOp5VUpTAlLP9lyBcB5wSmg5JPqPaKesFDOLF6TH8TRAD7EVOvLc-iJ-4Re7/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpHjcj-qdMAn4-0kPtHY9rbyTbJ-mBRvrv4ifH-C9pfIGZgpqZToQ917jOjc63jOJLEeecwbGCqUvVc8XaOp5VUpTAlLP9lyBcB5wSmg5JPqPaKesFDOLF6TH8TRAD7EVOvLc-iJ-4Re7/s640/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold, harsh reality sinks in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She knew she had to come to grips with the tragedy quickly because Nathan was going to need her to be strong, he was just a little boy. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isabel mourned her Father alone, letting her grief wash over her. Letting it out here, where her Dad had died would help her face what had to be done now to help Nathan and to move on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlw9AODF8DwTeO8IlawMa1zc-tlkBEKS_4nTY1ULeVCshyphenhyphenFk6F9GfIwlaAEDS6W6NXR8TYGIBw-StyHnW1aBggmvZILnzYCIviosNK5Gb0TLteC8uQHnskgHhtrqD5LdPonN6KpsBR4TV/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlw9AODF8DwTeO8IlawMa1zc-tlkBEKS_4nTY1ULeVCshyphenhyphenFk6F9GfIwlaAEDS6W6NXR8TYGIBw-StyHnW1aBggmvZILnzYCIviosNK5Gb0TLteC8uQHnskgHhtrqD5LdPonN6KpsBR4TV/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why Dad... why did you have to go and <i>die </i>on me?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When Nathan wakes up, Isabel allows him to grieve at the cabin as well. She feels this is better than trying to shelter him from the reality of what had happened. He had been there and witnessed the fire too - there was no erasing that memory. He deserved to know the truth and express his pain as Isabel had.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6T2J_fpya_XkKjWh-Y0oXPY5DPIg9SrE-koxU52LKnJLeV1W5AM2eV-X5YthMHur02_6vXciQH8WR3mNGfmuji971stZZ1ChncsshufN0ScnYR6MZ3V9S3IHG7eWAKMiIkU7UxdMhkoP/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6T2J_fpya_XkKjWh-Y0oXPY5DPIg9SrE-koxU52LKnJLeV1W5AM2eV-X5YthMHur02_6vXciQH8WR3mNGfmuji971stZZ1ChncsshufN0ScnYR6MZ3V9S3IHG7eWAKMiIkU7UxdMhkoP/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I can't believe Mom and Dad are gone!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nathan had lost <i>both </i>of his parents. Isabel was all he had left now.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isabel promised to keep him safe and never leave him alone. He made her promise again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswqMVx-zqXsYxraAARTe-tos0RUpExc0_AutEnkggonqwbgeQ1JYoOt32YchBllZg7RGck84XqPwqRVv6rc5W66o7uZKi4XxFFsTvH3zwrN34-8PFve2PdC5XPj85iSQypMjS1wGSmCDN/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswqMVx-zqXsYxraAARTe-tos0RUpExc0_AutEnkggonqwbgeQ1JYoOt32YchBllZg7RGck84XqPwqRVv6rc5W66o7uZKi4XxFFsTvH3zwrN34-8PFve2PdC5XPj85iSQypMjS1wGSmCDN/s640/Screenshot-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We'll stick together Nate ... I promise"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Ch. 2.3 - "Wrapping up loose ends" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/23-wrapping-up-loose-ends.html">HERE</a></b><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
~~~~~</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Notes:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can't even really apologize - that wouldn't be fair. I know it was awful. I didn't really put much stock in the comments when some of you said how hard death and tragedy chapters were to write in your own stories, until I actually decided to <i>write </i>one. I got really wrapped up in making great screenshots - but then when I went to put the dialogue down here, it really did kinda get to me and make me sniffle. I nearly backed out of my plot plans. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Really had to channel my inner CeCe here to stick with my drama plan ... (that's a compliment CeCe, I promise!)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I swear things will turn around and get better quickly after this one !!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-27976307010826447482012-11-03T18:56:00.001-07:002012-11-05T15:10:14.194-08:002.1 - Intuition and Discovery<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is no logical way to the discovery of these elemental laws.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is only the way of intuition, which is helped by a feeling for the order lying behind the appearance.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
- Albert Einstein</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Isabel's flight to Al Simhara was long and uncomfortable, but she made it without much more than a bad case of jet lag from the time change.<br />
<br />
Base Camp was a crude outpost at best, not even half as nice as her Dad's Cinnamon Falls campground. But Isabel had grown up sleeping half her youth in a tent or tree house since she loved the outdoors so much.<br />
<br />
Of course, it was quite a bit hotter here than back home.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhST1h8YM0w6XWxMemWD16VptwN61E34Dfv2plc72427ToD1wbGjdaHSovg7eF1GTshFP6NINWZZOeHQARVOWjBmOLWwjv3DBl4mE0x0mvGtW4ZdcQy0Py8-Eb17iCztBevAfL12yAyXyJK/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhST1h8YM0w6XWxMemWD16VptwN61E34Dfv2plc72427ToD1wbGjdaHSovg7eF1GTshFP6NINWZZOeHQARVOWjBmOLWwjv3DBl4mE0x0mvGtW4ZdcQy0Py8-Eb17iCztBevAfL12yAyXyJK/s640/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is like a giant camping adventure - and I'm getting paid to do it!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Well, the 'paid' part was still somewhat uncertain as she hadn't been given any compensation figures yet. The airfare was paid for by the Science Facility, as was her food and lodging while there.<br />
<br />
Dr. Midden had given her a packet of paperwork sealed and not to be opened until she met with and handed it over to the on site manager. She was told to check the Explorer's "Adventure Board" for the contact information.<br />
<br />
But who, exactly, was she looking for?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHZaCjwRsq0RObxYljjRgvIT7qCLDDHsOJ9eOrnQ3KTLGt_9d4DQAtKiWKKpt76lfI7-pgznR1Er_gcmQpy_7KT8S7w70ovVLJduuC-zgvSgBIND7uOtJfcPXr7sPuWjxmisL__Yvm2Gh/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHZaCjwRsq0RObxYljjRgvIT7qCLDDHsOJ9eOrnQ3KTLGt_9d4DQAtKiWKKpt76lfI7-pgznR1Er_gcmQpy_7KT8S7w70ovVLJduuC-zgvSgBIND7uOtJfcPXr7sPuWjxmisL__Yvm2Gh/s640/Screenshot-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I have a job, but I have no idea what to do ... "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There were dozens of postings on the board, and many were yellowed and looked like they had been there a long time. Some had been shredded from their push pins and blown away by the hot Simhara wind. How was she supposed to find anything useful here?<br />
<br />
There were jobs asking for photographers to take pictures and submit them to tourist brochures, and others to recover lost items - but nothing that looked like an Archaeology project.<br />
<br />
Finally, her eye caught a slightly newer business card with just a name and address in the nearby market for "Special Interest Merchandising" at a local relic shop. This seemed like the most likely candidate. At least she could ask them if they knew of who she was supposed to contact.<br />
<br />
The Merchant, a rather bored looking young local woman, shook her head in confusion when Isabel referred to the card. After a little more questioning and more blank looks in reference to the Wolfson's Science Facility, the exasperated merchant pointed to a cafe in the center of the marketplace and said she should ask for "Miss Layla" as she often dealt with <i>professional clientele</i> who were looking for more than just a pretty vase to take back home as a souvenir.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilE7jqt86JgkFtif9bVnWi-drvPyvfxZX7Q2B9iH8OJkbxrRPTrlmvrhGw86RsKJ8gSuvlaFhQtPC0qyB22kNl1ZfrZx75Tg2L_Hh27if2uIZ5u0llDrX4bJxa_TgSyXGaw68sQvZjmFKl/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilE7jqt86JgkFtif9bVnWi-drvPyvfxZX7Q2B9iH8OJkbxrRPTrlmvrhGw86RsKJ8gSuvlaFhQtPC0qyB22kNl1ZfrZx75Tg2L_Hh27if2uIZ5u0llDrX4bJxa_TgSyXGaw68sQvZjmFKl/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You don't know anything about the local Archaeology project?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At first Isabel felt sure this was the wrong direction as she obviously wasn't looking to buy anything. But not knowing where else to go, she goes to the indicated cafe and asked for Miss Layla. The food merchant told her she would be around shortly and offers her a complimentary bowl of soup. Isabel was already fairly hot in a leather jacket and it seemed the wrong weather entirely for hot soup, but she took the offered dish graciously - not wanting to offend any local customs.<br />
<br />
She had no idea just how hot things could get.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr69RVrKD2LtlJkN_7Fs7yAtf4_z_rzoq57qEyYHKfZEe8BLqLfLAsa3a8VPafazv6r3AYA4QPkGRbeAAbuUd6jLYjAovBrdJEs2dFZbn081CkGzlOfkYjhpNZeGFW1JgcJ_11IyRsmxLd/s1600/Screenshot-56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr69RVrKD2LtlJkN_7Fs7yAtf4_z_rzoq57qEyYHKfZEe8BLqLfLAsa3a8VPafazv6r3AYA4QPkGRbeAAbuUd6jLYjAovBrdJEs2dFZbn081CkGzlOfkYjhpNZeGFW1JgcJ_11IyRsmxLd/s640/Screenshot-56.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little girl: "You know that's Ghost Chili, right?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ghost Chili?<br />
<br />
*chewing carefully*<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AfqgujkUTOZ0iC8WRpk_HeH0AajLp3-JvWJYdbChD7U-63XPwPclYm_keM9u8fNljXWQ5Gnj9OuGdoQdAobmO4rB_uyvR-DraOWpYBjwZk47M0Rd1kMFruJbSgqV2uWUEg19dHr190f8/s1600/Screenshot-60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AfqgujkUTOZ0iC8WRpk_HeH0AajLp3-JvWJYdbChD7U-63XPwPclYm_keM9u8fNljXWQ5Gnj9OuGdoQdAobmO4rB_uyvR-DraOWpYBjwZk47M0Rd1kMFruJbSgqV2uWUEg19dHr190f8/s640/Screenshot-60.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Arrgh what his this feeling going from my mouth to my head!?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
"Oh .... my ..... <b>GAAAH</b> ...."<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3sF27DT7dcvB9r3eNul5lVlxCszOvYAZTiyWKb1p1zHPcUm_GG5cV6k18tYPvEYMyC6bCI6OH_isZ7KlFTCfvlG8oDmf1JusiwZqh0CTFMkyqUZVhAN71XX7AySXg81NVTAmpY-22aMr/s1600/Screenshot-58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3sF27DT7dcvB9r3eNul5lVlxCszOvYAZTiyWKb1p1zHPcUm_GG5cV6k18tYPvEYMyC6bCI6OH_isZ7KlFTCfvlG8oDmf1JusiwZqh0CTFMkyqUZVhAN71XX7AySXg81NVTAmpY-22aMr/s640/Screenshot-58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(This shot was too good to resist)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Wooooah, what was <b>THAT</b>?! My head's on <i>FIRE</i>!!"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
*puff puff puff* </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Isabel sucks in air rapidly. The little girl finally offers her one of the cool fruit drinks she's having to help ease the pain.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-dNF84SylfpaQB7088C-vDFYp36PJfReRojEscVEduHRcuDWXhEvAPOo4WYwWyVMIUMyMzwpw5OiLFzfhP8kGpfrIOZ7cFF9-21Hh5cXzxWgpGT1Ah8r1Ez050-BYUGGKdXyjUxTAFuk/s1600/Screenshot-59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-dNF84SylfpaQB7088C-vDFYp36PJfReRojEscVEduHRcuDWXhEvAPOo4WYwWyVMIUMyMzwpw5OiLFzfhP8kGpfrIOZ7cFF9-21Hh5cXzxWgpGT1Ah8r1Ez050-BYUGGKdXyjUxTAFuk/s640/Screenshot-59.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh WOW - ok, I need to taste test before I eat a whole bowl of that stuff!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's not sure if she likes the local food.<br />
<br />
Finally a richly dressed exotic looking woman enters the cafe and surveys the place with a slow casual eye. This must be Layla. Isabel hopes her breath isn't too bad from that chili, and goes to introduce herself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O_H21Jys60P7Lzpx_dAopOJihHoPxVKer7AXEp-YJsAdleAOgjqMVvVnOOz7D-jmiLsYJxnofUOC9fphh8PHcMSMmXhlfjEprDWrwsUyAA7fJ5XBJqF5BxczTSamZ8Ug_8Ov4AgRug6o/s1600/Screenshot-26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O_H21Jys60P7Lzpx_dAopOJihHoPxVKer7AXEp-YJsAdleAOgjqMVvVnOOz7D-jmiLsYJxnofUOC9fphh8PHcMSMmXhlfjEprDWrwsUyAA7fJ5XBJqF5BxczTSamZ8Ug_8Ov4AgRug6o/s640/Screenshot-26.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Err... hello, my name is Isabel Twist and I'm looking for my local contact on a job I'm here to do ... are you Miss Layla?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The woman studies her quietly for a moment, and smiles slightly while shaking her hand. Isabel feels like she's being scrutinized and sized up.<br />
<br />
"I had not anticipated such a young girl being sent as our, hmm, <i>associate </i>in this project. Yes, I am Layla Lufti and I supervise the Al-Simhara operations here."<br />
<br />
Isabel is relieved to finally have someone to tell her what to do and tries to hide her enthusiasm behind a professional smile and hand-shake. Layla goes on to explain her 'job' orders:<br />
<br />
"You are to report to a small building just outside the Base Camp first thing in the morning. You will be entering the facility alone and working unsupervised. When you have finished with the instructions given here, you are to report back to me tomorrow evening, here, same place and time."<br />
<br />
Layla handed Isabel a small dog eared manila folder and excused herself. As she brushed past Isabel, she whispered quietly ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJtYlaV6uqiH5QjAtXbLCdzz69o6qVvLd022VIyy1DE3EkriaCNv2clKBB8m_AEwknP0jQuKU-B4THU-gLqVh2Zxg_TqRvBxhmhegNlzdLc4IqO9PR2Wmn_iU2qTFq6zsIWkuXjzcMvjL/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJtYlaV6uqiH5QjAtXbLCdzz69o6qVvLd022VIyy1DE3EkriaCNv2clKBB8m_AEwknP0jQuKU-B4THU-gLqVh2Zxg_TqRvBxhmhegNlzdLc4IqO9PR2Wmn_iU2qTFq6zsIWkuXjzcMvjL/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Remember, you go into the tomb <i>alone</i>, and you communicate with NO one aside from myself, understood?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's a little uncertain about all this sudden vague communication and mystery - considering she <i>thought </i>she was coming here to dig up old bones and tomb artifacts. There must be a good reason for such secrecy and she intended to do as instructed as this new career meant everything to her, just starting out in life.<br />
<br />
She was so excited, she couldn't sleep well that night. Though used to sleeping in a tent, the strange sounds and smells around her also kept her awake. She managed to get a few hours before waking up just as the sun was rising over the desert sands.<br />
<br />
Being the coolest part of the day, Isabel decides to take advantage of it and go for a jog along the river before reporting to the Archaeology facility next to base camp as Layla had instructed.<br />
<br />
The ghost chili had also given her a really bad case of heartburn, which was aggravated by jogging.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CB4M0z7MceM-Na0Qao-WBWZt3OpaoFwB4JBoPjG-GK0cCLf92O0wEVfsfajmQSerUtodm5m6ioZ2DVZz67kKz4VTqdbyeShu-wnojAweY1u4AxKXoSSNF-2nueNcTfWklZgfIovy4bA8/s1600/Screenshot-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CB4M0z7MceM-Na0Qao-WBWZt3OpaoFwB4JBoPjG-GK0cCLf92O0wEVfsfajmQSerUtodm5m6ioZ2DVZz67kKz4VTqdbyeShu-wnojAweY1u4AxKXoSSNF-2nueNcTfWklZgfIovy4bA8/s640/Screenshot-39.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why do they call it ghost chili anyways, should be HELL chili...ugh"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Maybe it was all those years following Cupid around as he dug up stuff along the hills of Appaloosa Plains, but the dunes of Al Simhara made bits of rubble stick out in easy to spot contrast with the light colored sand. Isabel found her first relic digsite easily and stopped to take a look.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvCPZglFyj9WezOfahG5IbeVDPVEdMHmGE4NvKALQVgWSWjalNuIvc-hylaHMEBNmu5czfCPE4Czk5jHdB9y-ekjG5RLU6MeV82ClJ031g8FF-eRgAfSYTXXO14H7GSwE0NxxU9I8zMP9/s1600/Screenshot-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvCPZglFyj9WezOfahG5IbeVDPVEdMHmGE4NvKALQVgWSWjalNuIvc-hylaHMEBNmu5czfCPE4Czk5jHdB9y-ekjG5RLU6MeV82ClJ031g8FF-eRgAfSYTXXO14H7GSwE0NxxU9I8zMP9/s640/Screenshot-42.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This could be something interesting ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She's glad for all the training she'd had on this as these ancient bits were nothing simple to be dug up by a furiously excited dog. Delicate brushing and patience revealed some nice relics. Isabel carefully tucked them away in her backpack for analyzing later.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPep6-HvskrFtC_oA7AL1PiwfPsDXQ4yDhou2j0nOCj0FLp0wKwAqiNn2OqTrx4mi7ISZq4QxhT0zxI9OZV5hh3XW6aLxQmBCAcfHaWsfxpVDe9XDfVdj8G3Yd7LOJ_sSA5xFoVDRsvWR/s1600/Screenshot-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPep6-HvskrFtC_oA7AL1PiwfPsDXQ4yDhou2j0nOCj0FLp0wKwAqiNn2OqTrx4mi7ISZq4QxhT0zxI9OZV5hh3XW6aLxQmBCAcfHaWsfxpVDe9XDfVdj8G3Yd7LOJ_sSA5xFoVDRsvWR/s640/Screenshot-43.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'll just hold onto these fragments until I can get them to a proper lab."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Arriving back at base camp, Isabel changes back into her adventuring gear and heads for the designated site entrance right on time.<br />
<br />
She enters the makeshift entrance attached to what looks like a very well excavated dig site. This is apparently called "Discovery Tomb" though its not a true tomb, but more of an archaeological training grounds of sorts.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq9_QwU7dkJkCCp9S2LMsUC6wekC1frIh7Kdvfj407kQF55oMQrRU_I4q36gpivbfKKNe9VstaGZNOwV2-ThkyI3MouQrbcT82Twm0DXzZtpltnCjFPJJxRzACl2Jvxx6FpgwkP_AOlJj/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq9_QwU7dkJkCCp9S2LMsUC6wekC1frIh7Kdvfj407kQF55oMQrRU_I4q36gpivbfKKNe9VstaGZNOwV2-ThkyI3MouQrbcT82Twm0DXzZtpltnCjFPJJxRzACl2Jvxx6FpgwkP_AOlJj/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Curious, there's not much security here."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The brief file Layla had given her explained that Disovery was used as practice grounds for new interns and to test her ability to follow directions and work solo underground.<br />
<br />
Isabel was brave, of course, and had no issues with claustrophobia or dark places. This would be easy.<br />
<br />
The entry room was littered with various small scale relic assembly projects. Most of these were exceptionally crude and far too easy for Isabel's level of knowledge. She hoped there would be more to do below.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05umxR9c2MIA7ZlICmkVYNVRO3hVOiYFw6I30JS_z5DH_7ncn7fN47CpPXNiX4dmZNllQ-SvIMfu29lI-8_jom2iXKLyar4pYKNbhOP9a-CpVOorAd0OpdQcdxzb0BkDKVIrL3Lwno3AT/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05umxR9c2MIA7ZlICmkVYNVRO3hVOiYFw6I30JS_z5DH_7ncn7fN47CpPXNiX4dmZNllQ-SvIMfu29lI-8_jom2iXKLyar4pYKNbhOP9a-CpVOorAd0OpdQcdxzb0BkDKVIrL3Lwno3AT/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Reconstruction projects for newbies. How quaint"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Her SimSci security card, included with the file, gained her access to the stairway down. She found the main entrance chained shut, but a heavy chest revealed what she hoped would be a key, along with a pile of ancient coins.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8Rs9OSyTvUNW0mT11u9m8DaX_8jTfu5A3WkpGeSARW2NJ2wVBSYhFHzEJZ_6UZ69gyymUAxJ8RR8VR5IKOJymtm0Cr5cdIN0dEBPjJlL-OpsePEPYbP9zjXjLJOa0u0Ide3FamsO9dNE/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8Rs9OSyTvUNW0mT11u9m8DaX_8jTfu5A3WkpGeSARW2NJ2wVBSYhFHzEJZ_6UZ69gyymUAxJ8RR8VR5IKOJymtm0Cr5cdIN0dEBPjJlL-OpsePEPYbP9zjXjLJOa0u0Ide3FamsO9dNE/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Those chains on that door are not ancient, but <i>this </i>definitely is..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is the first time Isabel's ever seen any sort of ancient magic in action, though she's read about it. The connection to ancient Sim tombs has been referenced in many exploration journals. But still, the first time a scientifically disciplined Sim encounters this sort of inexplicable power is always disconcerting. If she had not seen it with her own eyes ... well. Lets just say she's much less skeptical now of those nutty reports of deeper magic existence.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWbVpG-FpRkjEthp2D9E9n4kPEQMeeYgQibEUTGSyx-vYrbvjIKX30jQJGNuGFBDjiD2MZaYpy8mp6hkRrPEAzgcvQaP7v2Uo0jnLJ6KMKWyV-mmwdOXkPad_sxyc0W7g-b9XrymvwooD/s1600/Screenshot-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWbVpG-FpRkjEthp2D9E9n4kPEQMeeYgQibEUTGSyx-vYrbvjIKX30jQJGNuGFBDjiD2MZaYpy8mp6hkRrPEAzgcvQaP7v2Uo0jnLJ6KMKWyV-mmwdOXkPad_sxyc0W7g-b9XrymvwooD/s640/Screenshot-68.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Woah ... cool!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Beyond, a simple stone puzzle blocks yet another door, and then nothing. An empty room.<br />
<br />
A little careful investigation - running her hands slowly along the wall reveals a hidden door. Isabel's no athlete despite her recent cardio training. The door proves more of a challenge than the puzzles.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6FHdu_a9wOcGHtzeV8qQltEx_2_2PKrwekgFKxxU2cjqTdDVwbV6X7KeA0SbaYGTibICV1XiSCauOQZw3zo9ynOYBWvCmb3Z9NhvrRa5i4Jox1-UhIyUOQ3BQg9hRCbhkS6y-Sk_c14dV/s1600/Screenshot-73.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6FHdu_a9wOcGHtzeV8qQltEx_2_2PKrwekgFKxxU2cjqTdDVwbV6X7KeA0SbaYGTibICV1XiSCauOQZw3zo9ynOYBWvCmb3Z9NhvrRa5i4Jox1-UhIyUOQ3BQg9hRCbhkS6y-Sk_c14dV/s640/Screenshot-73.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ok, note to self: More strength training immediately upon return home ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Adventurous wonderment overcomes skepticism when Isabel finally reaches the inner reaches of the simple chamber beyond. Clearly modern built, this storage facility is full of the most amazing relics she's ever seen - most never recorded in any of her textbooks. Why was all of this here and why was she sent to investigate it if they already knew what they'd put here?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQFNcfSYV_300y42eoljZzHkSCt5fJkHGTREsHnehKm_bNPsJYmic6VXAybFXH-zX45UDDjMnms5B9CZZkn7W0hVoHYESTR16-JA_uNn84UDh7bvKBWe8dTag4F5xzAihbsawE_dEawYbo/s1600/Screenshot-71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQFNcfSYV_300y42eoljZzHkSCt5fJkHGTREsHnehKm_bNPsJYmic6VXAybFXH-zX45UDDjMnms5B9CZZkn7W0hVoHYESTR16-JA_uNn84UDh7bvKBWe8dTag4F5xzAihbsawE_dEawYbo/s640/Screenshot-71.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is - unbelievable. Why has none of this been recorded in archives?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The file gives no further explanation - just a blank page for notes. She writes down a brief description of the statues and goods stacked in the hidden storeroom and finds another door with exit stairs back to the entrance of the facility above.<br />
<br />
Isabel can't believe time passed so quickly. It's already going on evening and she hasn't got much time to hurry back to town to meet with Layla.<br />
<br />
Rushing up to meet Layla at the cafe, she apologizes quickly for being late and how she'd lost track of time in the storage facility.<br />
<br />
Layla whirls around and hisses sharply; "Don't <b>EVER </b>talk about Discovery Tomb's hidden areas, do you understand <i>anything </i>about discretion??"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6a9I7BepF4mfpO-iGYyRee4YxDvB1p3w5fslCFqgU08LYaUyCN_hkc6kMgxyk3VU-YyY-ehRcRPvHKBVutze5JtzHfUI8W3fQXQ15M3hhqoEzCCwEh2MtgKOR-Pc9lNoL6TG7-MrZftS/s1600/Screenshot-50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6a9I7BepF4mfpO-iGYyRee4YxDvB1p3w5fslCFqgU08LYaUyCN_hkc6kMgxyk3VU-YyY-ehRcRPvHKBVutze5JtzHfUI8W3fQXQ15M3hhqoEzCCwEh2MtgKOR-Pc9lNoL6TG7-MrZftS/s640/Screenshot-50.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was confidential, please. It's hardly fair when you've given me so few instructions!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Pulling her roughly by the hand to a private room in the back of the cafe, Layla stares hard at the plate of food brought to them before beginning her explanations to Isabel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR89tBcsBpNjWzTFdEFxMSXgniW5XAZyVcM8325OUqZNq4FJU9nBVH_hXO5L5vGU-TYPCmd225FXu_jJGf1dV2i_3HGTGNwFQ3xZV1fI19lbAo_BaizOtkg-3AEBBPNEC5zkIUKRRTvUIM/s1600/Screenshot-54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR89tBcsBpNjWzTFdEFxMSXgniW5XAZyVcM8325OUqZNq4FJU9nBVH_hXO5L5vGU-TYPCmd225FXu_jJGf1dV2i_3HGTGNwFQ3xZV1fI19lbAo_BaizOtkg-3AEBBPNEC5zkIUKRRTvUIM/s640/Screenshot-54.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There seems to be so much being left unsaid. Layla's cryptic moodiness seems confusing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Look, this isn't easy. You're really young, and for whatever reason - SimSci doesn't want you privy to any details yet. Your 'discovery' assignment was just a simple test - an observation of sorts ... you know, to see how quickly you picked up instructions... "<br />
<br />
Layla seems frustrated by whatever restrictions prevent her from disclosing more information. She goes on to explain Isabel's job assignment from here on out:<br />
<br />
"The crescent keystone is now imprinted with your own personal code. You can access the room at any time and you will leave relics there which will be analyzed later at the labs after transportation out of Al-Simhara"<br />
<br />
"You're only to retrieve relics from the tombs assigned to you, and utilize the base camp infrequently if possible. Stay out of the public eye and never keep relics in your tent as thievery here is very common ... "<br />
<br />
Layla pauses to look out the window as if expecting a thief to be standing there, her discomfort and nervousness seems oddly out of place with her confident personality.<br />
<br />
"And lastly, whatever you do, never ever discuss the project here with anyone outside of myself and those who may come and go from Discovery facility with proper security badges like your own, got it?"<br />
<br />
Isabel tried to nod, but a million questions were flashing through her mind. As they leave the cafe, she has one question she has to ask.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGnBjwN5Uxf-qWlr3RPP_J02oQQInOmoKNgxlIecS-DoTPioy08KHlr9qnv_kdDk2SlJOfSriLaUEgp1DYw3BG-tyl4pAifjNncYLTnu6xZkQxGmaCy4SNJo9B4LjIRlpk23H1UlE7PYm/s1600/Screenshot-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGnBjwN5Uxf-qWlr3RPP_J02oQQInOmoKNgxlIecS-DoTPioy08KHlr9qnv_kdDk2SlJOfSriLaUEgp1DYw3BG-tyl4pAifjNncYLTnu6xZkQxGmaCy4SNJo9B4LjIRlpk23H1UlE7PYm/s640/Screenshot-80.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What about pay? How do I make my bills and stuff back home when I'm not on assignment?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Layla explains that a special expense account has been set up online for her research trips but that unless SimSci or Morcucorp hire her full-time, there's no off-duty pay. Tomb relics are the property of the agency she works for when contracted onsite, and the ancient coins she finds can be kept for 'benefits' purchases during travel. She would be paid on commission for the relics she produced each trip depending on their value - but that would come months later after quarterly lab reports were released.<br />
<br />
That sure doesn't leave a lot left over for living expenses ...<br />
<br />
Isabel reluctantly accepts and signs the contract. What choice does she have - go back to Appaloosa Plains a failure and work at a local shop? She hadn't expected to become a 'treasure hunter' ... but freelance Archaeology might not exactly pay the bills either.<br />
<br />
Fortunately for Isabel, her 'special' talent, honed with years of hunting for fossils in Appaloosa Plains meant she just might be able to put some fragments together in her spare time.<br />
<br />
She went out early again the next day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3Xlx6IfTWbKSHddQFM2bZhE1J5iqyoAR45B_31wg2aCf1sE6KXPZ0H4e8Fcsg9ZybBCjqOEsXi0lUrZwnuIqsDb8Y2SoM1OgDHt7e2yiIdjelVx88uCCjuzmkyWDjBDSJ2hfWzocDmz0/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3Xlx6IfTWbKSHddQFM2bZhE1J5iqyoAR45B_31wg2aCf1sE6KXPZ0H4e8Fcsg9ZybBCjqOEsXi0lUrZwnuIqsDb8Y2SoM1OgDHt7e2yiIdjelVx88uCCjuzmkyWDjBDSJ2hfWzocDmz0/s640/Screenshot-46.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If I'm lucky, maybe I can assemble some of these fragments into something of value later on."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The contract had only mentioned tomb relics - nothing about off duty digsite finds. Isabel intended to make the most of this side work when she could get free time.<br />
<br />
That evening, Layla was not at the cafe as planned. Instead, Isabel received an unexpected phone call from her Dad.<br />
<br />
"Isabel? It's Dad... yeah, uh, I can hardly hear you - you doin' ok out there?"<br />
<br />
Isabel smiled and reassured Simon she was great. "Yeah Dad, phone reception out here is pretty bad, its very remote and wild, but beautiful ... oh, and hot!"<br />
<br />
A slight delay in the transmission, and then Simon continues.<br />
<br />
"That's great honey. I got a call today from Kenji. He's being involuntarily retired early on medical discharge - something about his health and needing to move to Sunlit Tides for sun and relaxation - heart problems maybe. They offered the position of Facility Director to me ...but Uh ... I rejected the offer. Can't really talk about it right now, but looks like you're going to need to come back and get new travel documents drawn up. We'll.... well, we'll talk when you get here, ok? I'm sorry about this sweetie, but the facility is reorganizing and I'm not sure you ...."<br />
<br />
*<b>CLICK</b>*<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhYzZo4rIRL64cmZdzY3HQQjZ_ODj26RLIw8UNJ_VaQKfqGeR6RgY5zgeICu-dA54YfswsFbTMlYPiSMMHlTB2JfAF0EwblVxh5QZLEZNwvg6mNoElQ859e-o5WX2SFh6q0lYG2HBFFVo/s1600/Screenshot-81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhYzZo4rIRL64cmZdzY3HQQjZ_ODj26RLIw8UNJ_VaQKfqGeR6RgY5zgeICu-dA54YfswsFbTMlYPiSMMHlTB2JfAF0EwblVxh5QZLEZNwvg6mNoElQ859e-o5WX2SFh6q0lYG2HBFFVo/s640/Screenshot-81.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dad? Dad are you still there?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The call had cut off. Isabel tried several times to call back but could not get a good international line to work.<br />
<br />
She tries to reassure herself everything's fine, but something's niggling at the back of her mind like an itch you can't reach. It's frustrating she has so few details and so many confusing things happening on her very first trip including uncertainty about her work. Now she wasn't sure why Dad would refuse an offer of Directorship or what that meant to her position. What was her Dad not sure about before the call cut off?<br />
<div>
<br />
~~~<br />
<br /></div>
Isabel catches the next flight out of Al-Simhara. It was a red-eye and she didn't get back into Appaloosa Plains until the wee hours of the morning after a layover in the cities. Dawn was only an hour or so away and she was exhausted.<br />
<br />
The cab drops her off in the driveway. The lights at home are all out, her parents and Nate are probably out at Cinnamon Falls as usual.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EuPnvjrai3jGAgo7EHnmWdK8PKlRdAE1RwEP3RGyhKhpKMqmaQLo-nsiTHudVFKtHA2jDeRVyQ-6riAsNY6SrNEXBhiUyyk5modstAhNQM7VBC7sERM_YG_YFFChNnzENODuyaIm7sX4/s1600/Screenshot-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EuPnvjrai3jGAgo7EHnmWdK8PKlRdAE1RwEP3RGyhKhpKMqmaQLo-nsiTHudVFKtHA2jDeRVyQ-6riAsNY6SrNEXBhiUyyk5modstAhNQM7VBC7sERM_YG_YFFChNnzENODuyaIm7sX4/s640/Screenshot-37.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Fearless Adventurer has returned!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Her back is killing her from so many hours hunched up in those uncomfortable airline seats.<br />
<br />
Doing some side stretches, she's about to head inside and get some well earned rest in a real bed when a police cruiser pulls up and the officer starts to rush up to her looking somewhat panicked.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-984x_TZFvS0M2feBgVHEndJBG3TxnvPk2mwc3lcXl7mDisDrSL6y3AdcVR2K9P9teWJ6FADodix7bW8y3__sf8N37V4Z1ap5Lpg3EO9TI9icgEVmakxja7HX1G5qgl6PpcYSBH76Bd52/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-984x_TZFvS0M2feBgVHEndJBG3TxnvPk2mwc3lcXl7mDisDrSL6y3AdcVR2K9P9teWJ6FADodix7bW8y3__sf8N37V4Z1ap5Lpg3EO9TI9icgEVmakxja7HX1G5qgl6PpcYSBH76Bd52/s640/Screenshot-38.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh. This can't be good."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>To read Ch. 2.2 - "Be Brave" - go <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/ch-22-be-brave.html">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
Yes, a real cliff-hanger. Don't get mad at me, I think its my first attempt at it ... *evil grin* (channeling my best ReyaD and calisims here)<br />
<br />
I really had planned to make everything one chapter - I swear! Isabel's first trip to Al-Simhara just had so many good photos and I need some more work for the next chapter's ...events!<br />
<br />
I'm sorry! No not really. >:)<br />
<br />
~~~~~<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-42031048413317303162012-11-01T21:33:00.000-07:002012-11-03T19:00:04.230-07:001.20 - Endings and BeginningsIt's Isabel's final year in school. She's graduating a full semester ahead of other kids her age due to her high scores and gifted student status. This year doesn't even really feel like school since she's going to the Science Academy at Wolfson's Research Facility. Studying with the same group of academic scholars her Dad works with is way more fun than boring chalk boards and history lectures.<br />
<br />
At the lab, she gets to do a lot of research for Dr. Midden's group. She's learning to do radiocarbon dating tests on bones to figure out their age. Chemistry comes easily to Isabel, and her consistent results as a student assistant are appreciated during daily routine testing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-HrvdZ7mCFn3PLsSmTd8GXTn8zgMd-vOK7GoTEuCgxrdKOLu9MxZyXcAP1CSBWFns8TDElFEt2XtHtx6qXBpfljwWzeFjBZfDFC6bDKBIjH_r2weO9TasVEER-QXu6smO-FDP_xDYYXy/s1600/Screenshot-308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-HrvdZ7mCFn3PLsSmTd8GXTn8zgMd-vOK7GoTEuCgxrdKOLu9MxZyXcAP1CSBWFns8TDElFEt2XtHtx6qXBpfljwWzeFjBZfDFC6bDKBIjH_r2weO9TasVEER-QXu6smO-FDP_xDYYXy/s640/Screenshot-308.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Third test with stable Carbon 12 to 14 differential results. This sample is 5,000 years old!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's genius study habits and attention to detail make her a qualified candidate for an internship study grant the same as her Dad was offered in coming to Appaloosa Plains.<br />
<br />
But unlike her Dad, she gets a much different offer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2b6iNlmyYkPueODFLooVJV3DFVoWyos-L9uzlnKNlhyyapFrYJ_3fb_W3sn_yvV7xEJA67ZiAQoWxi_HIN42-6NgdYvoGegVoFY4oCoM2esyJFnkfWsA6fEubOUNLZI-1-rv4H_TGnqp/s1600/Screenshot-304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2b6iNlmyYkPueODFLooVJV3DFVoWyos-L9uzlnKNlhyyapFrYJ_3fb_W3sn_yvV7xEJA67ZiAQoWxi_HIN42-6NgdYvoGegVoFY4oCoM2esyJFnkfWsA6fEubOUNLZI-1-rv4H_TGnqp/s640/Screenshot-304.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is strange, an email from Dr. Midden, but I don't recognize the address..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At first, she's super excited by the offer to travel abroad as an Archaeology Intern. But then it finally dawns on her where the unfamiliar email address came from - Morcucorp.<br />
<br />
Isabel's done enough snooping through the Wolfson's archives to know that they've had a finger in just about every archaeological dig project known to sim-kind for the past 50 years or more. Hints found in some of the files even suggested foul play involved with the now closed down dinosaur dig site that was Isabel's favorite place to hang out and hide when skipping classes. This last bit had apparently not gone unnoticed by the facility staff.<br />
<br />
Despite all the glowing recommendations, high test scores and exemplary work habits - there was one small bit that stood out from all the rest of the typical line and jargon in her offer letter:<br />
<br />
<i>"We understand you have had some <b>attendance issues involving school records</b> and would suggest keeping this offer private as contracts and details have yet to be signed. Your graduation could be negatively affected by any undo tampering with facility files. We look forward to working together as a team."</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVnVRt96XYmuRf6QzDEvco8BH3z2McUNH-3VYsWHvLEOubO6Y13kg5ZHN4ekGjBhDrnpBb-aeKzYapKwijSX3Z59YHEclm6O2CiNXqNskWIJouiZkX48GUaC6Ek43Vi9Pzqd2agyAYAgF/s1600/Screenshot-309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVnVRt96XYmuRf6QzDEvco8BH3z2McUNH-3VYsWHvLEOubO6Y13kg5ZHN4ekGjBhDrnpBb-aeKzYapKwijSX3Z59YHEclm6O2CiNXqNskWIJouiZkX48GUaC6Ek43Vi9Pzqd2agyAYAgF/s640/Screenshot-309.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uh oh. This could get sticky."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Warning bells went off in Isabel's head and she began scrambling to figure out how they knew. She had been careful to always cover her tracks when skipping, and all of her teachers had been more than happy to overlook it, or so she thought.<br />
<br />
She <i>might </i>have altered a few attendance records... but it wasn't like she had hacked into their system or anything - they were self-maintained work hours reported in her student personnel files!<br />
<br />
After all, its not like all her skipping classes was just to be lazy! She actually spent the time out in the "field" ... you know - <i>discovering </i>things.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VxiTxABd9zqorR_-M1v7XBlvCSTAYVWGl31JRE9k1JXpjIllVpMd3PwzMABHMENoG-VsKACRDGmlZO_slgm6cIkZFIXjsmFIpR4ydXI8zZ6Dsh0YfSnm8oIaUrtDvmADgbs3cB6Sc-mY/s1600/Screenshot-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VxiTxABd9zqorR_-M1v7XBlvCSTAYVWGl31JRE9k1JXpjIllVpMd3PwzMABHMENoG-VsKACRDGmlZO_slgm6cIkZFIXjsmFIpR4ydXI8zZ6Dsh0YfSnm8oIaUrtDvmADgbs3cB6Sc-mY/s640/Screenshot-80.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is IT Cupid - we've nearly reached the edge of known civilization and from here its all uncharted territory! Adrenaline rush commencing!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But seriously, there was also some real academic work happening out there.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UJ6u3jmwRv1n51eaQhPvZs9msMfgk2mWrjFaTwn4Fh9vttpRB3S6WB0xs3zFdBAhA0q6WcWkkiFrGjpv_IluedholMygzxta0AbLoGR2MlnhlKMd47SED1S7SHsKuugouVwAa3v1UFCV/s1600/Screenshot-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UJ6u3jmwRv1n51eaQhPvZs9msMfgk2mWrjFaTwn4Fh9vttpRB3S6WB0xs3zFdBAhA0q6WcWkkiFrGjpv_IluedholMygzxta0AbLoGR2MlnhlKMd47SED1S7SHsKuugouVwAa3v1UFCV/s640/Screenshot-90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"According to the most recent studies, these fossilized prints are from the early Cretaceous period"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid's continued hunting efforts were Isabel's secret weapon. His nose was amazing at finding the best fossil specimens and even relics!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUat3YEsB4D7vlDNA-f-JsLbp8vpHBeAV0ekHU2_r_F39qHc_L8XdWobIENy3QCTGKIXoTv4K4MjEyFSLSqS37h1ziatCyVtqgYFl62xwxtzrUICKsIR5kK4lNT2feN7MI6m9OlR-_-Np/s1600/Screenshot-88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUat3YEsB4D7vlDNA-f-JsLbp8vpHBeAV0ekHU2_r_F39qHc_L8XdWobIENy3QCTGKIXoTv4K4MjEyFSLSqS37h1ziatCyVtqgYFl62xwxtzrUICKsIR5kK4lNT2feN7MI6m9OlR-_-Np/s640/Screenshot-88.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"C'mon Cupid, go find us a meteor confirming carbon life from outer space. We'll be instant simoleonaires!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel would have to tread much more cautiously after this recent warning. She made a mental note to only do her studies and emails at the library as she suspected they were monitoring her lab network account. She would also have to force herself to be present and accounted for every day. Her last remaining months at the Academy were going to suck.<br />
<br />
Her exploration over the hills and valleys of Appaloosa Plains often led her down to the Steele ranch for a visit. This is where some of her after curfew delinquency was happening. Not purposely!<br />
<br />
She managed to make it there in time to congratulate Andy on his graduation and give him a gift.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pOawNv51SFc4uAQI3BTyiCJ6LtIuvk1IJq6GzzYSf1yFjwfb7F7omQMhbFS2xKnqvXHXsUTT1D7JGQUMtC9pEYwrUarK4_kBybMB6kN63Z_IP_QybYw52q6f3DdiLZw4ptTV8PxlI3zm/s1600/Screenshot-58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pOawNv51SFc4uAQI3BTyiCJ6LtIuvk1IJq6GzzYSf1yFjwfb7F7omQMhbFS2xKnqvXHXsUTT1D7JGQUMtC9pEYwrUarK4_kBybMB6kN63Z_IP_QybYw52q6f3DdiLZw4ptTV8PxlI3zm/s640/Screenshot-58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hah thanks Isabel. I don't think anyone's given me a box of rocks for a gift before. I'll treasure them always."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Silly boy, he has no idea just how valuable those "rocks" are - sigh.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is the part she hasn't wanted to get through. The whole ... "hey we're both headed off in different directions for our new lives, lets just be friends" routine. It was awkward. She was still a "kid" in Andy's eyes, she knew it - but she kept a smile pasted on her face for his sake.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqRiZc22StxvU4SclSECY7vrHOmqUGS0xWWXuUXAp7d4_ek5DOZ3AFejU7cxsRmcY2kYSSbjyWI0y_6te-zSJUZVCwfqzWSnfSrV3OoRDZqMJp9f4ION2FeQForUWMiT8-LcOqz1sT9Ds/s1600/Screenshot-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqRiZc22StxvU4SclSECY7vrHOmqUGS0xWWXuUXAp7d4_ek5DOZ3AFejU7cxsRmcY2kYSSbjyWI0y_6te-zSJUZVCwfqzWSnfSrV3OoRDZqMJp9f4ION2FeQForUWMiT8-LcOqz1sT9Ds/s640/Screenshot-65.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You mean a lot to me Isabel. I don't want to lose you as a friend."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Like her, Andy's decided to leave Appaloosa Plains and head out into the wide world on his own advanture. He's got ideas of moving to the big city and busking for a living while learning some freelance computer programming. He's taking off the next day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kEJuomfmdY6dPN4ujh30FAgbbLoqjtadVZ07DI57Rd-W_2nloDddpzZblT5Lic5LBt_R116ypPZ2Mx9U8TcvaqILIY4zr8cgRyeIo5wBofE1jsNxz2OS6PgSrDfD2rmq1qdgcrwzKOhZ/s1600/Screenshot-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kEJuomfmdY6dPN4ujh30FAgbbLoqjtadVZ07DI57Rd-W_2nloDddpzZblT5Lic5LBt_R116ypPZ2Mx9U8TcvaqILIY4zr8cgRyeIo5wBofE1jsNxz2OS6PgSrDfD2rmq1qdgcrwzKOhZ/s640/Screenshot-55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whispering in her ear as he hugs her, "You come look me up if your travels bring you to Bridgeport, promise?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And just like that, Andy was gone. Isabel's love life would have to go on hold until later.<br />
<br />
<i>Much </i>later.<br />
<br />
~~~<br />
<br />
Life at home was going along as normal as could be expected. Sarah's grieving had turned to depression over a midlife crisis (whatever that was). Isabel had tried to remain supportive for Dad's sake, but her patience with Sarah's constantly fragile emotions was wearing thin.<br />
<br />
Especially when Sarah goes off on her for being out late.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i0qkk1i_i9QMuzxzypTolpwI2tg_DHDJPDH7_xXKLSjTJuhDk82lQGMYz8-dc5iTJ5icYdMwda-Dnj8ENX_sMq_8pfCew5cRsztINXyjICbn2VH6fP92l5_cBO1__vx9fCX7bEkS_YBZ/s1600/Screenshot-315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i0qkk1i_i9QMuzxzypTolpwI2tg_DHDJPDH7_xXKLSjTJuhDk82lQGMYz8-dc5iTJ5icYdMwda-Dnj8ENX_sMq_8pfCew5cRsztINXyjICbn2VH6fP92l5_cBO1__vx9fCX7bEkS_YBZ/s640/Screenshot-315.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're in BIG trouble young lady! Did you forget we were supposed to go out tonight? Why didn't you call?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not to mention she was growing tired of spending so much time babysitting Nathan.<br />
<br />
He was a cute little guy, but he demanded a lot of attention. Isabel now went to the campground every day after classes to tend to him while Sarah worked with various charity groups like teaching kids with disabilities to fish.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShHYQlc5-AcO-AuFA5cMDYcM5tIUxpLtj23nUe_JAPSLE8acuxXQhk3bwjuyIdFmtrd3P2xdVeFqIiNdWzJ_gMao16o9nCgFerytdxUCYytmPb9lTYsb9pphXyTFVWygXitHHilbUx6gU/s1600/Screenshot-179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShHYQlc5-AcO-AuFA5cMDYcM5tIUxpLtj23nUe_JAPSLE8acuxXQhk3bwjuyIdFmtrd3P2xdVeFqIiNdWzJ_gMao16o9nCgFerytdxUCYytmPb9lTYsb9pphXyTFVWygXitHHilbUx6gU/s640/Screenshot-179.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snarky teenage remark: "Yeah Nate, apparently kids in wheelchairs need to know how to fish in case there's an apocalypse preventing them from getting to the grocery store ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nate even learned to use the potty out at the campgrounds. An unconventional method, but going poop in a bucket seemed to work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDGiD75Bt1e8tU1GTsG-oqS0jRxJBTY2wGNfiKtDT1R36TBtF8tdhfFUU32n8HmpgW1fL4NpdQwCOPsnkEz1vk2bZS8VRugWRXgrXLfzzeiBsv5gSYaD79O1xs1IaycyFZkZ1u54IFo8nt/s1600/Screenshot-181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDGiD75Bt1e8tU1GTsG-oqS0jRxJBTY2wGNfiKtDT1R36TBtF8tdhfFUU32n8HmpgW1fL4NpdQwCOPsnkEz1vk2bZS8VRugWRXgrXLfzzeiBsv5gSYaD79O1xs1IaycyFZkZ1u54IFo8nt/s640/Screenshot-181.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"PAH-DEE!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Even if Isabel found it really gross.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSuewX5soMwOw1telZN2qSZ5apdZbC0rjpzEJwSdS4rDXcfUaQKk87HNoGSuV1sUBLTqo27VGx9ELxHr705-y_cgKU6I04G_oi1D7dKZiLK4FnSX0K9lVwd3W-8A9zXUcDFxw0Q5wn3cp/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSuewX5soMwOw1telZN2qSZ5apdZbC0rjpzEJwSdS4rDXcfUaQKk87HNoGSuV1sUBLTqo27VGx9ELxHr705-y_cgKU6I04G_oi1D7dKZiLK4FnSX0K9lVwd3W-8A9zXUcDFxw0Q5wn3cp/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your Mom has to empty that Nate. Yuck."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ever diligent as the family protector, Cupid did his part to help out with the baby too.<br />
<br />
Apparently another one of those creepy dolls showed up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NbScMdiHqZYPzXOOBOH3x40YCbhriJVdrYGDqTbhvy4NK8nem5Rhcdv4HzGEY-ZW0s2COCtOL9rwPYoe4fOvn_VbiwxDyrpfUE5QDf06F0mIOCeURWTp6YI-etyiSkPxPkns3zWBEq4o/s1600/Screenshot-160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NbScMdiHqZYPzXOOBOH3x40YCbhriJVdrYGDqTbhvy4NK8nem5Rhcdv4HzGEY-ZW0s2COCtOL9rwPYoe4fOvn_VbiwxDyrpfUE5QDf06F0mIOCeURWTp6YI-etyiSkPxPkns3zWBEq4o/s640/Screenshot-160.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid: "Just you wait Boinky ... the picnic's over for you - all that'll be left are bits of fluff when I'm done!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This time around, everyone managed to show up in time for Nate's birthday aging up at home. Isabel called everyone in when he crawled down out of her arms in the rocking chair and started to do his little sparkle-wiggle dance.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK4Rym_QtoqjEUzEgqEoTDdg5JVti75iLbbG4B9zQmKWaBwz1_G-_2UWJIYveLRn5VBVgSSEw_SCoxuixtd10LkjUpy6nMA1YS8TZbfetOoOikLQNzM37aK2GrTwHTf0fm59vmjB4AVN2/s1600/Screenshot-238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK4Rym_QtoqjEUzEgqEoTDdg5JVti75iLbbG4B9zQmKWaBwz1_G-_2UWJIYveLRn5VBVgSSEw_SCoxuixtd10LkjUpy6nMA1YS8TZbfetOoOikLQNzM37aK2GrTwHTf0fm59vmjB4AVN2/s640/Screenshot-238.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yeah it tickles doesn't it Nate, hah!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel got brains and clever wit as a kid ... while Nate unfortunately inherited Dady's neurotic tendencies and Mom's serious looks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdofD8Va0HFqL06rMcTv5RsJ0FZYnJFIBJWj735uLIRssaRCcBwMOpoG3WtOa9gmrnoNoB11thAjcc6-bJ4m0ysTGn_ByU094BtCztyAMt7gt9m_e1ha8xjXqg5jIayZ5q16yOIUDy1Lnl/s1600/Screenshot-241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdofD8Va0HFqL06rMcTv5RsJ0FZYnJFIBJWj735uLIRssaRCcBwMOpoG3WtOa9gmrnoNoB11thAjcc6-bJ4m0ysTGn_ByU094BtCztyAMt7gt9m_e1ha8xjXqg5jIayZ5q16yOIUDy1Lnl/s640/Screenshot-241.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel thinking "Well this kid's going to end up either emo or nuts..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan immediately began to whine about his missing Boinky.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhguCUU7GmG_h70JLiI-DmI6VWmdUwz9TnesI4RZ5EaXK4j2DpTOVbdRQzKpnTM31lokKD6mUXIJipJVp2-nMOz7rJEh9PFtkEmP1VM_q7roJOu-dNt83aAlrk89WOgdu_95JGDypOVSL/s1600/Screenshot-243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhguCUU7GmG_h70JLiI-DmI6VWmdUwz9TnesI4RZ5EaXK4j2DpTOVbdRQzKpnTM31lokKD6mUXIJipJVp2-nMOz7rJEh9PFtkEmP1VM_q7roJOu-dNt83aAlrk89WOgdu_95JGDypOVSL/s640/Screenshot-243.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"He just vanished ... <i>THEY </i>took him, I know it!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Who took him sweetheart? What are you talking about?" Sarah seems ripe for more stress, always on the verge of another breakdown.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNuBNnuF5ytLJrUbTY9FOQIVBXDzk57CY6OpDlj5iIv39bGHEMgAiMwCU_dcJNHzrUxKp8T5XUmTCmLkh7PgHIW5GAoCCcWlXlAeK1YDqrKHU9MCpt9kPVDV2sZ5BnT0I2UlcnqybCH9H/s1600/Screenshot-253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNuBNnuF5ytLJrUbTY9FOQIVBXDzk57CY6OpDlj5iIv39bGHEMgAiMwCU_dcJNHzrUxKp8T5XUmTCmLkh7PgHIW5GAoCCcWlXlAeK1YDqrKHU9MCpt9kPVDV2sZ5BnT0I2UlcnqybCH9H/s640/Screenshot-253.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"THE ALIENS FROM OUTER SPACE!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan spent the rest of his birthday moon bouncing around the house in his astronaut suit, screaming about the government's plans to blow up the moon and the tides reversing, causing the seas to flush down a giant hole in the earth's crust like an enormous toilet bowl.<br />
<br />
Yep. Isabel called it. Nuts.<br />
<br />
But most of Nathan's neurotic tendencies ended up being complete bluff. Once he'd figured out it could tweak his Mom into babying him - he used it to his advantage. Isabel gave him credit for cleverness.<br />
<br />
When he started school. Isabel gave him a big hug and whispered in his ear to watch out for the robotic bus driver and not get too close to her laser beam eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikM39WAOjoTvD_nlApNdK0ZmgaDFF-6zovbXhZPzs1hJMiPrXPt8JCemNZL7OtUlXDuAHJzHxakLvJuieHDYPUswQT5bhiwOLgYL1_Gbjj1AZnFYzRdHhQu1pDk2FWqQIHZTmenT1l6EzP/s1600/Screenshot-263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikM39WAOjoTvD_nlApNdK0ZmgaDFF-6zovbXhZPzs1hJMiPrXPt8JCemNZL7OtUlXDuAHJzHxakLvJuieHDYPUswQT5bhiwOLgYL1_Gbjj1AZnFYzRdHhQu1pDk2FWqQIHZTmenT1l6EzP/s640/Screenshot-263.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Awww thanks sis, you're so awesome!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Nate knew this was mostly how Isabel just messed with him for fun.<br />
<br />
He had been born lucky - and somehow this trait often helped counteract his neurotic worrying.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQiqFgziuSlAPitdrRyvJXtRfU1hzUd-wqwu-U4MEMCzubv2nWzOIw2MqeM-HZgYzpQOLAFPzf8tFZfym4FGCjX-4wBvbATOOpJCbJjLxU36j76qWJNZFLwDHrkFh1BCxcqCFtQKBjkR_/s1600/Screenshot-268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQiqFgziuSlAPitdrRyvJXtRfU1hzUd-wqwu-U4MEMCzubv2nWzOIw2MqeM-HZgYzpQOLAFPzf8tFZfym4FGCjX-4wBvbATOOpJCbJjLxU36j76qWJNZFLwDHrkFh1BCxcqCFtQKBjkR_/s640/Screenshot-268.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I got this. No robotic bus drivers are going to keep me down!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Well. <i>Most </i>of the time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqPJVazplFr7ALcleTkq58s2nmfsndP8qLp8Vlzyc_g9izYlnWsURulr207fbYfkuOKBbOEYeY-mWTBiVFAFS1JCPol64hfxP_nSAFj8gfLMV-vpbIeZRTleWWNaYl1UifxVlyqRhx7i1/s1600/Screenshot-271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqPJVazplFr7ALcleTkq58s2nmfsndP8qLp8Vlzyc_g9izYlnWsURulr207fbYfkuOKBbOEYeY-mWTBiVFAFS1JCPol64hfxP_nSAFj8gfLMV-vpbIeZRTleWWNaYl1UifxVlyqRhx7i1/s640/Screenshot-271.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh crap. Isabel's right. She never turns her head or blinks!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel now had more time to herself again. In preparation for her upcoming travels, she started doing some athletic training so she could handle the rigors of long hours adventuring and back breaking digging.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicOu-l3___xLycvLpvthQRfD-xmcNaS7XRK1YkFSKLwXKpGOfISwewblPQPGdL19k3uXXtHz_CgxaCbl4cmKKR9tiaDryrRBtwxZrTf15d73T6VQBozUSxA5Ik5CTzwO__IrP8n-GwsLJ/s1600/Screenshot-226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicOu-l3___xLycvLpvthQRfD-xmcNaS7XRK1YkFSKLwXKpGOfISwewblPQPGdL19k3uXXtHz_CgxaCbl4cmKKR9tiaDryrRBtwxZrTf15d73T6VQBozUSxA5Ik5CTzwO__IrP8n-GwsLJ/s640/Screenshot-226.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Time to build some muscle and endurance"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A very rare early sim stone tablet arrived at the lab for analyzing and radiocarbon dating. Isabel got to be one of the first to view such a wondrous find. She knew her path would soon lead her to discover these sorts of treasures too. She had waited months for more word from her 'sponsors' at Morcucorp.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQnX8G0o0mehA7sS4Hj9BnRTH6v_UkvDv1zIlcvg8Q4Ny5GvBLylY0jY-fMaVctKtWkgIHwGG3jx6jBhgK7NYXvJH08xykxJRr5ekMFiccw-6ZEnALQGoArwF2XfwPxH2DisdyhG2ppy4/s1600/Screenshot-297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQnX8G0o0mehA7sS4Hj9BnRTH6v_UkvDv1zIlcvg8Q4Ny5GvBLylY0jY-fMaVctKtWkgIHwGG3jx6jBhgK7NYXvJH08xykxJRr5ekMFiccw-6ZEnALQGoArwF2XfwPxH2DisdyhG2ppy4/s640/Screenshot-297.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Amazing!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And the very next day, the call she had been waiting on finally came in.<br />
<br />
A full travel field study grant from the Sim Nation Science Association, funded by a private interest group (Isabel already knew this was Morcucorp) to begin immediately upon graduation.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEices_4GsGHGf7tNDhiiKUVFPf4BkNCGvsv4sKzhTbb6kb0E_SG44YCidyxQYVPffoDZynOq7H_odx4-VurKGBmGguRbxxtU6vsEcPWTCYykBa8yIGtk5h6YPfBtpn0OM2VaMIJbJ5tHCzj/s1600/Screenshot-146+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEices_4GsGHGf7tNDhiiKUVFPf4BkNCGvsv4sKzhTbb6kb0E_SG44YCidyxQYVPffoDZynOq7H_odx4-VurKGBmGguRbxxtU6vsEcPWTCYykBa8yIGtk5h6YPfBtpn0OM2VaMIJbJ5tHCzj/s640/Screenshot-146+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yes sir, I'm ready to go. I have dreamed of this opportunity my whole life!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The final countdown of days seemed to pass at a snail's pace. But it was finally Isabel's birthday. The start of her new life was about to begin.<br />
<br />
It was really annoying that Sarah and her Dad had planned yet another charity benefit to coincide with her birthday party. This meant the campground was full of old people.<br />
<br />
Billy Lee, her old friend from the gifted program was doing his final internship with the senior citizen's home for geriatrics. He was also graduating and aging up early. Isabel totally missed the look of misery on his face when he overheard her get a call from Andy - he was in town for the weekend and wanted to celebrate her birthday with her!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaiqouTDuTt_CxeSRJSj_o8EPAu0z31-n9Y30GRIJTXcN3v5wsYSsypNqPjCDnv4wjURhFCdsbAh-EEDe_r45eBR42gFiXsZS8cPYbsbyGt3mlu-cFhnhawnaZiNjGBVlnKQDFTKh5KjSC/s1600/Screenshot-123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaiqouTDuTt_CxeSRJSj_o8EPAu0z31-n9Y30GRIJTXcN3v5wsYSsypNqPjCDnv4wjURhFCdsbAh-EEDe_r45eBR42gFiXsZS8cPYbsbyGt3mlu-cFhnhawnaZiNjGBVlnKQDFTKh5KjSC/s640/Screenshot-123.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"So much for asking her out on a date ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Isabel's Aging Up Song:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/7FCUFjaLDF4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;">Distant flickering, greener scenery.</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;">This weather's bringing it all back again.</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;">Great adventures, faces and condensation.</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;">I'm going outside to take it all in.</span></i></div>
<br />
<br />
Andy arrived. Here was that awkward moment where Isabel realized she would just be saying good-bye to her best friend tomorrow and they would probably never be together the way he had hinted over the phone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBalTYGl289QzNez15tWQik-40gLPI0s8uaX2z6ONR13L317ZVaUPNIR2Q4tEUR790zxB9ilnxMc5KrBUuLU9IHweV_4rIb1pQg5qnL3R16ITQyzcQBKO7os0lNE67UiD8qCWXOrAoizT/s1600/Screenshot-136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBalTYGl289QzNez15tWQik-40gLPI0s8uaX2z6ONR13L317ZVaUPNIR2Q4tEUR790zxB9ilnxMc5KrBUuLU9IHweV_4rIb1pQg5qnL3R16ITQyzcQBKO7os0lNE67UiD8qCWXOrAoizT/s640/Screenshot-136.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm sorry Andy, I'm leaving to become a traveling Archaeologist."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Andy, ever the laid back guy, shrugged it off and said they'd enjoy the day together and just live for today.<br />
<br />
And so they did.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rBVWx3k_JyzJ5cgNHNH7Rx-4aMNCvrpVGX2lzQPo0pLb_jSOPyyMSEm01XOv-4qlrEgn5dl-LAqD9XxFVSj4ZNveZaD6J45goSclWBnRHHFfx2JebZmslLXfdGmd2Zg95Hw3V2VM5bMK/s1600/Screenshot-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rBVWx3k_JyzJ5cgNHNH7Rx-4aMNCvrpVGX2lzQPo0pLb_jSOPyyMSEm01XOv-4qlrEgn5dl-LAqD9XxFVSj4ZNveZaD6J45goSclWBnRHHFfx2JebZmslLXfdGmd2Zg95Hw3V2VM5bMK/s640/Screenshot-150.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"One more victory, for old time's sake"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Dr. Midden, now a Mad Scientist (and partnered with Morcucorp) arrived that evening for Isabel's send off party and to take her personally to the airport for her flight out that very night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBT0llct6UHPQUZnu7xiah8IczQCpvyD3XJyw6bBEsWp2pdQq-wowye7UCkLA5w4FiZDJ9L-wBZH-gcr4fyis4ZEKjjTtk0mQnq0H0owxQy_QJNJjVLPhHmcCNNRH4yOEgb8Z3B8IwLq8/s1600/Screenshot-330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBT0llct6UHPQUZnu7xiah8IczQCpvyD3XJyw6bBEsWp2pdQq-wowye7UCkLA5w4FiZDJ9L-wBZH-gcr4fyis4ZEKjjTtk0mQnq0H0owxQy_QJNJjVLPhHmcCNNRH4yOEgb8Z3B8IwLq8/s640/Screenshot-330.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably not the most appropriate formal wear for a coming-of-age party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The noise-making, clapping and cheering may have seemed only slightly forced on Isabel's part.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFoGuFT-rtpasAY0nvHii7nHd6MM4TJwJcoonbw8MwLTRPp70OdNjdDAj8MayODXBXTPi1H9c2Nnp2E_Hrh-VZZozcwB2O-ns8xk04UqJjQGNodYI8QlKpCtFm1cnz5gPQA3n2pIpw_XM/s1600/Screenshot-344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFoGuFT-rtpasAY0nvHii7nHd6MM4TJwJcoonbw8MwLTRPp70OdNjdDAj8MayODXBXTPi1H9c2Nnp2E_Hrh-VZZozcwB2O-ns8xk04UqJjQGNodYI8QlKpCtFm1cnz5gPQA3n2pIpw_XM/s640/Screenshot-344.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hurkey Nurfday!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And just like that. Another sparkle explosion.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbekHaN1d6JDBXcwFOpcc9KbnncGINg8VsROfMz52f8oRxsZi8ewACQRhTLrPHLlvSZBm5PKNNNC48v1GhJywegVCfYeEwNKfgXXtR4uLLFVA2YI1HDD3B29-ErSVLo-pTuu8-2UBtb7jX/s1600/Screenshot-345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbekHaN1d6JDBXcwFOpcc9KbnncGINg8VsROfMz52f8oRxsZi8ewACQRhTLrPHLlvSZBm5PKNNNC48v1GhJywegVCfYeEwNKfgXXtR4uLLFVA2YI1HDD3B29-ErSVLo-pTuu8-2UBtb7jX/s640/Screenshot-345.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You never quite get used to this feeling ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Some things end, and other things begin.<br />
<br />
Isabel has grown beautiful, but gained the <i>commitment issues</i> trait.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcCBhPIPJNWbn-rMwE91joXxOFpLk0W1wbyjE9-O-XwixAYqoisnwkq1XRgtGKK7bf_rfIc8b0zyqRaQyt7wqkd2RFNOZqPwMHeiSTXRk1VPBjLZUmrzcfsXoN4_jkkajSPWJxxlX8Ajx/s1600/Screenshot-349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcCBhPIPJNWbn-rMwE91joXxOFpLk0W1wbyjE9-O-XwixAYqoisnwkq1XRgtGKK7bf_rfIc8b0zyqRaQyt7wqkd2RFNOZqPwMHeiSTXRk1VPBjLZUmrzcfsXoN4_jkkajSPWJxxlX8Ajx/s640/Screenshot-349.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girl keeps her heart in a headlock.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She makes this new preference loud and clear when Chase asks if she's going to marry his brother.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEc9MxsuI2SNV8odkW64QIm5SHfr90sY8K8ivikvmoP_KJyo9Imu5cINZZ3Zp4jCVFN5J6DemxxOGgPhyphenhyphen3_6QtI3mUBrt7Uw154AdM6I4kceyf3VHczEo-HMZEBFb-u508FlvN09_NTepd/s1600/Screenshot-371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEc9MxsuI2SNV8odkW64QIm5SHfr90sY8K8ivikvmoP_KJyo9Imu5cINZZ3Zp4jCVFN5J6DemxxOGgPhyphenhyphen3_6QtI3mUBrt7Uw154AdM6I4kceyf3VHczEo-HMZEBFb-u508FlvN09_NTepd/s640/Screenshot-371.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"There's no way I'm getting shackled with <i>anybody</i>. Ever!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Smooth move Isabel. Pretty sure both newly aged up Billy Lee and even Andy heard that way back there!<br />
<br />
Dad gives her a practical birthday gift (of course). A complete camping gear set with lights, sleeping bag and tent.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcS6Lj9pwOsybWfRzVZ0SKdt_HgV1R2njOVRP2W0kS-g12wGJXn55CLPnaOZA41oEoaJXr8SB72MsK3IncowRjmRgAvqal9hnbPJkQ53KcmyAfXG1Z0eXfzbLxcorW6Zw3MgL_z1dRs-n/s1600/Screenshot-355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcS6Lj9pwOsybWfRzVZ0SKdt_HgV1R2njOVRP2W0kS-g12wGJXn55CLPnaOZA41oEoaJXr8SB72MsK3IncowRjmRgAvqal9hnbPJkQ53KcmyAfXG1Z0eXfzbLxcorW6Zw3MgL_z1dRs-n/s640/Screenshot-355.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I know this will be useful for those long nights of tomb exploration. Good Luck Isabel. I'm very proud of you."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Dr. Midden (Kenji) said they had to take off soon. Isabel could have one more hour with her family and friends, then they were headed for the airport with her paperwork, passport and tickets.<br />
<br />
Andy quickly took advantage of Isabel's last hour with some star gazing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3mpbZ8VCydAfQW-KeV75VVD0XOgrHRlxqy9D2NKDAcNTM8gdSO08qz3ItiNIzz9l9olXL9Rr54iTafeINQFv7ydCrf24fyhtT-fAgk9zZ6iZ0oGu3Z_g6n3Yf1lhdBqEkBF-xu-QRYSQ/s1600/Screenshot-391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3mpbZ8VCydAfQW-KeV75VVD0XOgrHRlxqy9D2NKDAcNTM8gdSO08qz3ItiNIzz9l9olXL9Rr54iTafeINQFv7ydCrf24fyhtT-fAgk9zZ6iZ0oGu3Z_g6n3Yf1lhdBqEkBF-xu-QRYSQ/s640/Screenshot-391.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They do make a cute couple. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And at the last minute, Andy pulls her in for a kiss.<br />
<br />
It would have been perfect if Dr. Midden hadn't been standing back there staring and tapping his foot impatiently waiting with the cab.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFzRT-I5S4MTXRWx1RYvh11Ty1KA5kN3O4K9nfTld5La10IylI-v7MVKr2J2FSXLcGojyZteuRrf1eIFXKqXC44mvygFyOKWHJjwSw-62idKWxye0QBqf-Xt1-enoHfac9OCLa49Ny0f3/s1600/Screenshot-378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFzRT-I5S4MTXRWx1RYvh11Ty1KA5kN3O4K9nfTld5La10IylI-v7MVKr2J2FSXLcGojyZteuRrf1eIFXKqXC44mvygFyOKWHJjwSw-62idKWxye0QBqf-Xt1-enoHfac9OCLa49Ny0f3/s640/Screenshot-378.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Have a great adventure. I'll be around if you want to come find me pretty girl..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Read on to the beginning of Generation 2 - "Intuition and Discovery" - <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/21-intuition-and-discovery.html">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
Generation 2 finally starts next chapter! I managed to wrap up my first generation in <i>only </i>20 tidy chapters, ugh - haha!<br />
<br />
Here's the roll, again, for anyone not sure what her generation entails:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
Marital Structure: Single with Help</div>
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
Number of Children: Two Children</div>
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
Income (Primary): Adventurer</div>
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
(Secondary): Business</div>
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
Generation Goal: Deadbeat Parents</div>
<div style="background-color: #dddddd; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
Miscellaneous Fun: Live Your Trait</div>
<br />
<br />
This includes two rolls I know some people prefer not to play - world adventures traveling and Deadbeat parents. I'm hoping WA remains bug-free for this - it would be frustrating if it keeps messing up Isabel's generation! (Thank goodness for twallan's mods that really help a lot with travel as well as alternate saves just before traveling)<br />
<br />
I had a hard time resisting some last minute serious romance for Isabel. As soon as she aged up she wished for two things... to travel abroad, and to kiss Andy. Clearly she's got conflicted feelings too! <3<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-39080286102449170422012-10-22T20:54:00.002-07:002012-11-01T21:36:41.925-07:001.19 - Smart is Sexy<br />
You may have been wondering why you didn't see much of Cupid in the last chapter ... well, Isabel's not the only one with romance in the air.<br />
<br />
Here is where Cupid has been sleeping lately ...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZ3wg91hI5s_PyFAYZWAW31Rar71NlfW7qiozRt6G6_AHgk0_1c8CFsDDiUh_3Pq0okU5BXSWKlRUDFlR3nkCu0yL_amjDveoKJ2NlW4xpbHqqwoA3yVMDGnpi36_bbeu1iV0EvwHjkUM/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZ3wg91hI5s_PyFAYZWAW31Rar71NlfW7qiozRt6G6_AHgk0_1c8CFsDDiUh_3Pq0okU5BXSWKlRUDFlR3nkCu0yL_amjDveoKJ2NlW4xpbHqqwoA3yVMDGnpi36_bbeu1iV0EvwHjkUM/s640/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King Cupid at rest in his leather and suede bed of honor.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And where exactly is this that he's living the fat life?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCba-rvyLWHTa8NFbVroEj1x4TFaeVf0EGLHm5m_m-boZma0Cr1hoE1pZFboJnYqsTUxtdDGpiKljFB5qppUan_oEVMBtHxWmJJmRbXdM-D-NbiGfnC1kcyQ8CAHmHsTxLIFpoW6O5Px7Y/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCba-rvyLWHTa8NFbVroEj1x4TFaeVf0EGLHm5m_m-boZma0Cr1hoE1pZFboJnYqsTUxtdDGpiKljFB5qppUan_oEVMBtHxWmJJmRbXdM-D-NbiGfnC1kcyQ8CAHmHsTxLIFpoW6O5Px7Y/s640/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating lobster and steak has Cupid becoming "torpid" too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At <i>Pamona Pampered Pooch Kennels </i>of course! (Getting pampered)<br />
<br />
Cupid's breeder contacted the Twists recently and asked if he could use Cupid as a 'stud' for genetic variety in his puppy breeding program. Cupid gets to shoot some arrows of love haha!<br />
<br />
And so, Cupid is now a proud papa.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGTTam7fuWLuxbcDS1xNOzRevv08vsOPAYLhxrCbmt7yzCp7HZO9VfsntHho-Lo969iA7R2yhqrcZrN4zD94XnOhvaxJL2clMVrjkzPTA3koB9uXvZgkDnYydteK_LTJixWf8UWJL_Ghu/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGTTam7fuWLuxbcDS1xNOzRevv08vsOPAYLhxrCbmt7yzCp7HZO9VfsntHho-Lo969iA7R2yhqrcZrN4zD94XnOhvaxJL2clMVrjkzPTA3koB9uXvZgkDnYydteK_LTJixWf8UWJL_Ghu/s640/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Blanca (now elderly) in the background. Her last litter of pups (with Cupid!), and Bluebell, the lovely Misty Grey female Cupid is also expecting pups with, woohoo GO stud-muffin Cupid!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Henry Vigo also just got married (finally, he's nearing elderly) and had a huge cookout to celebrate his new generation of pups as well as his nuptials.<br />
<br />
Since her household has always eaten what they grow in their garden, this is the first time Isabel has ever seen a huge grill full of steaks, and she decides she LOVES it! (Much to Dad's horror) ... Right then and there on the spot, Isabel makes the decision she's not going to put up with all these eco-friendly, vegetarian, living green rules anymore as soon as she's an 'adult' and calling all the shots!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvj0zPp_ms83C4RRNGuZ7KvSr8eVhyy2TZsQGf4Cd7nftm0TckuzJ-GvRjnEo06dmzamfdPOux6iNHVXoVj720HBXu9bf7JHXBF5Akscv0yOAGsBO17fThnu7HmEdow9bYbtZ25o341W9/s1600/Screenshot-209+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvj0zPp_ms83C4RRNGuZ7KvSr8eVhyy2TZsQGf4Cd7nftm0TckuzJ-GvRjnEo06dmzamfdPOux6iNHVXoVj720HBXu9bf7JHXBF5Akscv0yOAGsBO17fThnu7HmEdow9bYbtZ25o341W9/s640/Screenshot-209+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BEEF, it's what's for dinner! (The dogs all agree with Isabel while salivating)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Along with her new lifestyle attitude, Isabel has also really come quite a bit out of her shell since she started tutoring at the Steele horse ranch.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, she's getting attention from all three of the Steele brothers, but for vastly different reasons.<br />
<br />
Chase, the popular one, depends on Isabel to help him make it through his junior year, he's really struggling with his grades and desperate to graduate on time next year.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNx2ZNooPGXyHk4lzsksy1iF4vR32rT7ESyfwSEt2ZO1Qb3UvYUzzS24KBFskCbVr7A5PEve4BqGsTeipow6Oz9t2rMHxKRbKUWDubPeiFqWLxd9xyxyyqTqKzXcY-Fs3BCioggVQmw3g/s1600/Screenshot-71+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNx2ZNooPGXyHk4lzsksy1iF4vR32rT7ESyfwSEt2ZO1Qb3UvYUzzS24KBFskCbVr7A5PEve4BqGsTeipow6Oz9t2rMHxKRbKUWDubPeiFqWLxd9xyxyyqTqKzXcY-Fs3BCioggVQmw3g/s640/Screenshot-71+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chase Steele may not be the smartest of the bunch, but definitely a dreamboat and very charismatic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then there's the oldest brother, Jake, who unfortunately seems to have very very different ideas about Isabel's visits to the ranch.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIwQHwfaVkMzZXFzIf1lhqmqgVeKhznrp0s0HkgjIqsv7As6FNTnZEm9dXx2S5ZHBvhueB-v8e6IYaYyu7L-sIkn3eSjexQ2Vk54Tr7UnlYXRPUyOJ2aBsIrXOlNZEMkO7zRRWTKQL7bU/s1600/Screenshot-118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIwQHwfaVkMzZXFzIf1lhqmqgVeKhznrp0s0HkgjIqsv7As6FNTnZEm9dXx2S5ZHBvhueB-v8e6IYaYyu7L-sIkn3eSjexQ2Vk54Tr7UnlYXRPUyOJ2aBsIrXOlNZEMkO7zRRWTKQL7bU/s640/Screenshot-118.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake Steele, already a young adult last year, and a girl-jockey as well as horse-jockey...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Jake being the bad-boy of the three brothers, managed to corner Isabel in the barn one night as she was leaving to head home just before curfew.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0sdfwU723iW1GHlYmEXBc0iOwHcsGbWWKsCAeoUqPKo52rERamgbSaZprwjv7_7XtyTRchnreQDNpL_Ew7NXRq820-EwLn792siJ98ZOCb00xFHvMLQc7OehP8zdj5ph5gx8gxcmOcNC/s1600/Screenshot-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0sdfwU723iW1GHlYmEXBc0iOwHcsGbWWKsCAeoUqPKo52rERamgbSaZprwjv7_7XtyTRchnreQDNpL_Ew7NXRq820-EwLn792siJ98ZOCb00xFHvMLQc7OehP8zdj5ph5gx8gxcmOcNC/s640/Screenshot-61.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake: "What's a pretty little flower like you doing alone? I could show you a good time up in the hay loft ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Isabel bravely reminded him that propositioning an underage girl was definitely more than just a "minor offense" if a cop, namely his Dad, happened to get involved. Jake got the hint.<br />
<br />
And then there was middle brother, Andy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7IYsSLS8-yKCFwxyzm1oqooHSLKovxE-slqWTRauE2SLSW_w2tZUNICnI8rkQLhszLmmpzZiK1CGucbqmZNOwzjsfF6BWN5BzDadElce24uh-l0OsjapSoNABQVaCQ1JmQpyA5BK4rg-/s1600/Screenshot-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7IYsSLS8-yKCFwxyzm1oqooHSLKovxE-slqWTRauE2SLSW_w2tZUNICnI8rkQLhszLmmpzZiK1CGucbqmZNOwzjsfF6BWN5BzDadElce24uh-l0OsjapSoNABQVaCQ1JmQpyA5BK4rg-/s640/Screenshot-31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andy Steele. The quiet, shy one of the three.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel didn't really know much about Andy at all because he was painfully shy and a computer whiz, so he spent almost all of his time secluded in his room doing whatever it was he did on the computer for hours on end. Andy was about to graduate in a few days and his birthday to young adult was soon too.<br />
<br />
And then one night, after a particularly long tutoring session, Isabel and Chase just started chatting about non-school things. That's when she learned he was an outdoors lover too, and their signs were compatible.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IBQ1JVWAFshraKfDBUGX3jH_m9o5Vkp3qkRRf5mopRluXnfMo3YnxJh3mYk7Xf34HztGWK3gUCC1-MaL_dM4xqvo4SYoFpeVGnI_zqlvq8ItJ4Yo7xPAi8F8n6M1tTZPDCIj0viuiGzO/s1600/Screenshot-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IBQ1JVWAFshraKfDBUGX3jH_m9o5Vkp3qkRRf5mopRluXnfMo3YnxJh3mYk7Xf34HztGWK3gUCC1-MaL_dM4xqvo4SYoFpeVGnI_zqlvq8ItJ4Yo7xPAi8F8n6M1tTZPDCIj0viuiGzO/s640/Screenshot-90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"ohmigosh I love the outdoors TOO!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Suddenly, Isabel unbelievably found herself asking Chase if he was going to the prom. She has no idea where that came from - just some brave foolish slip she threw out there.<br />
<br />
Chase <i>almost </i>seemed a little sad when he told her he was already going with Bethany Barnes...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbEM0PhTA5xHYjOFVt0B_WwwZVgy8_syitlnYUUGPZO2H4aCiCJZMX30QZf1sNf1W0HONZp7ZPYgLI98C3lgn1yC-MjLPke9huraco8s5e9NtQMZeCKYbY5ji5oX_6Q3fSj2L8qlay2WAo/s1600/Screenshot-76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbEM0PhTA5xHYjOFVt0B_WwwZVgy8_syitlnYUUGPZO2H4aCiCJZMX30QZf1sNf1W0HONZp7ZPYgLI98C3lgn1yC-MjLPke9huraco8s5e9NtQMZeCKYbY5ji5oX_6Q3fSj2L8qlay2WAo/s640/Screenshot-76.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uh yeah, I'm going with Bethany. She's kinda had it planned out all school year, matching colors for our outfits, ugh... and all that crap ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel lamely plays it off with some "School sucks" kind of remarks to cover her embarrassment.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FsY_U5gj8pD4t4zEto_WblgXI_-YKKqe1NLtFK_4oyrMtNPY3URwgYZSAbx0Br1bqGgINZ7iLLsxZaVWJJfpCU7vcYNEeZFubvKPZjTB7CY-Cv-0zmsAC7dR20q_DZfw07f3_wznAk4u/s1600/Screenshot-88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FsY_U5gj8pD4t4zEto_WblgXI_-YKKqe1NLtFK_4oyrMtNPY3URwgYZSAbx0Br1bqGgINZ7iLLsxZaVWJJfpCU7vcYNEeZFubvKPZjTB7CY-Cv-0zmsAC7dR20q_DZfw07f3_wznAk4u/s640/Screenshot-88.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yeah, well, I can't wait to just get school over with and leave town anyways ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She decides to be rebellious and stay out after curfew and sneak in a quick game of chess on one of their cool laptops.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zK0fnBt1LZMtzWSOT_xmH9xZgnMt57Sw30uDpf79_m3c2d2FmQQOVPDshkbtLYaxi6kzG_FsDcmvBXpboet_PkvJh1O3-MRaWLZxS-rr2fkmHKw0sImS7FzSUoiY10BKYielAwqF7qnj/s1600/Screenshot-98.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zK0fnBt1LZMtzWSOT_xmH9xZgnMt57Sw30uDpf79_m3c2d2FmQQOVPDshkbtLYaxi6kzG_FsDcmvBXpboet_PkvJh1O3-MRaWLZxS-rr2fkmHKw0sImS7FzSUoiY10BKYielAwqF7qnj/s640/Screenshot-98.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well, school really <i>does </i>suck. Letting off some steam playing the anonymous online player will help deal with disappointment. Yeah, that's it..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Little does she know, her anonymous online opponent is actually Andy, who's on the matching computer in the next room and has a direct line set up to the other laptop.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjES_luxX9Ouji9xCEvFf8UqSPkVzS1JiqkR2Tm4rvNsqlKo5EhSyR631yBIUdOGsUqAhp6iVt_Sly93dTeea4Ls4Jqfo8mR2DpG38S8ThOEl2acKmxoRW-JSzmxf5fZPo6sQG1rGRFcH8v/s1600/Screenshot-99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjES_luxX9Ouji9xCEvFf8UqSPkVzS1JiqkR2Tm4rvNsqlKo5EhSyR631yBIUdOGsUqAhp6iVt_Sly93dTeea4Ls4Jqfo8mR2DpG38S8ThOEl2acKmxoRW-JSzmxf5fZPo6sQG1rGRFcH8v/s640/Screenshot-99.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wow, she's really good. I'm getting pwned like a boss here!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The match is mercifully short. And when she's won, a message unexpectedly pops up on her screen:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"<i>Smart is Sexy</i>. Chase is a fool to choose that blonde bimbo over you. I'll take you to prom if you promise not to beat me up about dancing the way you did at chess. I suck at both.... yours in admiration, Andy"</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Andy meets her at the door as she comes out to see where he's hiding and sent the message from.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6CoUQClu1AlPCX6xMGBf5GBEz0puta-pReAn3hcy_FbbXLHihDNX_qAmiKZGl7lrkBSYKDi7LpMK-lYhUaL6kBs-5neLjpw9kKs-zBt-LFkjZxyHMvujdeGBVhpxQQJdeWjSKAwES9hM/s1600/Screenshot-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6CoUQClu1AlPCX6xMGBf5GBEz0puta-pReAn3hcy_FbbXLHihDNX_qAmiKZGl7lrkBSYKDi7LpMK-lYhUaL6kBs-5neLjpw9kKs-zBt-LFkjZxyHMvujdeGBVhpxQQJdeWjSKAwES9hM/s640/Screenshot-68.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel smiles easily at Andy and compliments his style. "That was pretty clever. I'd love to go to prom with you."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Andy does have to warn her that his birthday is tomorrow and he'll technically be a young adult just days before graduation and prom and hopes that'll be ok with her Dad. Apparently he has all the gentleman qualities his older brother lacks in that department. Isabel assures him it should be fine. (She didn't really mention it to Dad, however)<br />
<br />
Just the day before prom, drama happens. Isabel gets stopped in the hallway on the way to gym class by none other than Bethany Barnes who claims they were once good friends and gives Isabel a warning ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTTdCPsBmpwbtQKG5xBCx_7dnFe0A_daR4hDaBKCFawpyz52gCi00BXtFtP6QXKjrk_6yfLLsoHH9Wevuun8oQwvsRPwjxhyphenhyphenC3mIU_ANuiwqTNxJJpHcYRCOHecQf-UC3WrCGpNz8guORT/s1600/Screenshot-121+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTTdCPsBmpwbtQKG5xBCx_7dnFe0A_daR4hDaBKCFawpyz52gCi00BXtFtP6QXKjrk_6yfLLsoHH9Wevuun8oQwvsRPwjxhyphenhyphenC3mIU_ANuiwqTNxJJpHcYRCOHecQf-UC3WrCGpNz8guORT/s640/Screenshot-121+(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In a syrupy sweet voice she says, <i>"Friends don't steal one another's boyfriends, right Isabel?"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel shrugs off the thinly veiled threat. She thinks Bethany is vapid and shallow and not worthy of any serious concern. It's actually laughable considering Bethany doesn't even know who her date for prom really is anyways.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tLeWdfBiBAQZC_NN_iTOwJB2rn6GNEWEShQx-o9JuZKunaI1WLzP8PB5tNUyROEIkmUIGHPG1vbnNYnmi205ADxgEzXrC37jZuhYML-1S8P2UAY8-9MIjhyphenhyphen-l49CghWhsYkljEhln3jH/s1600/Screenshot-125+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tLeWdfBiBAQZC_NN_iTOwJB2rn6GNEWEShQx-o9JuZKunaI1WLzP8PB5tNUyROEIkmUIGHPG1vbnNYnmi205ADxgEzXrC37jZuhYML-1S8P2UAY8-9MIjhyphenhyphen-l49CghWhsYkljEhln3jH/s640/Screenshot-125+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smirking over the hilarity of it all ... "Just wait til' she finds out how wrong she is about it. Drama-queen, pffft!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Andy's too shy to have a birthday party, and celebrates his aging up privately, so Isabel doesn't get to see his change until the night of the dance.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihADdL0OgR9m72ZTgoZo6buwnsveUhWjcesNhZIH4BzwOTvtW0UE3HFT7Muwx_gmsgr826n0bFECYB36a4Uqw0X3cWtRH9hl5ncpJHFjZy1oahQc4bRVq2ElG7SousUFndSHDKmhaCEW9F/s1600/Screenshot-166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihADdL0OgR9m72ZTgoZo6buwnsveUhWjcesNhZIH4BzwOTvtW0UE3HFT7Muwx_gmsgr826n0bFECYB36a4Uqw0X3cWtRH9hl5ncpJHFjZy1oahQc4bRVq2ElG7SousUFndSHDKmhaCEW9F/s640/Screenshot-166.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andy, aged up to gorgeous young adult the night of Prom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The prom was oddly a very casual affair, complete with barn dance decorations. No one except a few snooty girls even wore dresses (like Bethany and Kylie Pelly). Isabel was immensely relieved, as was Andy. They had a terrific time being goofy and generally making fun of everyone else.<br />
<br />
Here's their prom picture. I have no idea why Isabel has such a ridiculous look on her face, do you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrUmtJky_X0ILySmZaEwDj6eyraUMsSaiAlxmhjLviE-s33WkxiGiESkQBvavdTrL0CaZGZP4gXaMepfZhCgMZRA4T3kCpfYUu4Gm1zJEFs6yCTvDVcrfhFGs2f5vSVJr_B0hac-uzEBM/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrUmtJky_X0ILySmZaEwDj6eyraUMsSaiAlxmhjLviE-s33WkxiGiESkQBvavdTrL0CaZGZP4gXaMepfZhCgMZRA4T3kCpfYUu4Gm1zJEFs6yCTvDVcrfhFGs2f5vSVJr_B0hac-uzEBM/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm pretty sure they were mocking Bethany Barnes doing her Diva pose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon had a slight freak out (while tending his fish at the lab) when he realized his daughter went to prom with a fully grown man and was well on her way to becoming a woman soon herself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3szXra4UB41vE4eSEUR2aIoA5S82qjTLOfTGzf6WYznbAPLx1TunoU0Qi1RwfQ8oSiqWdI4rMQTrbzg40t-1oxpgCQM1NwvpRkETEIGFPKMbRn4z1NCPZwzSwL4BXMnUDpUFqHkpAcxZ/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3szXra4UB41vE4eSEUR2aIoA5S82qjTLOfTGzf6WYznbAPLx1TunoU0Qi1RwfQ8oSiqWdI4rMQTrbzg40t-1oxpgCQM1NwvpRkETEIGFPKMbRn4z1NCPZwzSwL4BXMnUDpUFqHkpAcxZ/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"AAAAGH MY DAUGHTER IS GROWING UP!!!"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But everything went just fine and though Isabel did get her first kiss at prom from Andy, he behaved himself with the utmost manners and had her home by curfew, much to Dad's relief.<br />
<br />
~~~<br />
<br />
Finally, after the school year is out for summer, the Camp Cinnamon Falls project is completed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMb7MP9ETsQlGTj7ma-M4ClcxIQVvb3bEtUKW3umUQtMcpOg5PRfDVDgN0KPzsV6szwK4K-XPQbnoW2I4tAAcZxdvo36TAFvZ5wlizEd_anMUg0ZXUCO0DzTE0b6F5XT5hYPEzJjKnIid/s1600/Screenshot-192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMb7MP9ETsQlGTj7ma-M4ClcxIQVvb3bEtUKW3umUQtMcpOg5PRfDVDgN0KPzsV6szwK4K-XPQbnoW2I4tAAcZxdvo36TAFvZ5wlizEd_anMUg0ZXUCO0DzTE0b6F5XT5hYPEzJjKnIid/s640/Screenshot-192.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon's dream is now reality. A campground with fishing deck, bridge and picnic areas makes his favorite place in Appaloosa Plains an inviting park for the community.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The entire town turns out for the grand re-opening ice-cream social. Even the mayor, Booker Singleton uses it as a campaign opportunity, as does local celebrity, aging country music star Honey Darnell.<br />
<br />
Everyone crammed into the tiny little one room cabin to partake of delicious ice cream from the fancy ice cream maker that was donated to the park by some wealthy anonymous benefactor who also owns the mysteriously creepy ice cream trucks ... (cue ominous music)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYlUr613WPqeRItoK5QWjOsXqhvuic6LJ2oTxHGTzebKJkr730RucubDYwQdGY8XDVC4scZzt8tIbfHdzakwQKSZt6dG2P3z0fNRo5XTS4IK6ve7aC1CF_Fau8fKrGhLXrkazYMSLnOHpd/s1600/Screenshot-212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYlUr613WPqeRItoK5QWjOsXqhvuic6LJ2oTxHGTzebKJkr730RucubDYwQdGY8XDVC4scZzt8tIbfHdzakwQKSZt6dG2P3z0fNRo5XTS4IK6ve7aC1CF_Fau8fKrGhLXrkazYMSLnOHpd/s640/Screenshot-212.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture actually tells a very funny story all in itself: On the left is Booker, who is schmoozing it up for campaign donations from the wealthy Sofia Martingale who is actually his wife now! To her right is Ethan Parrott, who dropped his ice cream cone in order to take a cellphone photo of Honey Darnell, posing with her own ice cream. But he's busy staring at Sofia with the "hate that sim" thoughts because Sofia is one of the two women his Dad was sleeping with which ended Ethan's parents marriage. What a drama scene haha!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The elderly but ever popular Ms. Honey Darnell posed for photos and signed autographs on the lovely new fishing deck and even gave a small impromptu guitar performance. This is the most attention tiny Cinnamon Falls has had in generations. The whole town is talking about it and visiting.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF44W62jlv6dWKyeBuJj2AyPbNtMs_t3lvU_LcB4NM1n7MaEzmDZ0CfJnZ_ICggJ3sPzETiYnmEyxsoT2hICUkJuWT7_4SqYjxDIPVF8vyd8oPJd6o2cFL97utDpODekD46T71ngp83P5U/s1600/Screenshot-228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF44W62jlv6dWKyeBuJj2AyPbNtMs_t3lvU_LcB4NM1n7MaEzmDZ0CfJnZ_ICggJ3sPzETiYnmEyxsoT2hICUkJuWT7_4SqYjxDIPVF8vyd8oPJd6o2cFL97utDpODekD46T71ngp83P5U/s640/Screenshot-228.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who knows, maybe she'll put one more platinum country album out before she kicks the bucket!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel shows up a bit late. She just got done dressing up for an interview at the science center for consideration into the Science Academy next year instead of going to regular high school. She's pretty pleased with herself over how well that went and daydreams of her soon-to-be future while riding up to the campground.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KLTnZYRGLpUWYELeam057lggdne8CV4Bw6Yai2azl9fohkDvywbt0-wPiuHjTpr2nMuz9dCfyAyGZdkuahKi03vgo4Ccq0xcxhDjr-biKioKfBHRspNGK8UzLJtIufSeFrooifzuNFIt/s1600/Screenshot-196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KLTnZYRGLpUWYELeam057lggdne8CV4Bw6Yai2azl9fohkDvywbt0-wPiuHjTpr2nMuz9dCfyAyGZdkuahKi03vgo4Ccq0xcxhDjr-biKioKfBHRspNGK8UzLJtIufSeFrooifzuNFIt/s640/Screenshot-196.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dream-girl dreams of adventures to come ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As a special present to Isabel, Simon shows her the nice outdoor chess set he's had built into the lovely deck overlooking the lake and falls. Now Isabel can play chess and enjoy the outdoors, two of her favorite activities together! She's really flattered by the sentiment, but hasn't yet told Dad she intends to leave town soon after graduation.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVtfBiBmn8zCstMEiuGbPlrZsV6EeWAybMqUzt25zlUlRnQCNNT7fk6xRQXvZUOCktT7D6sU7Py3pVHbW86-EcUqf_as16R_nISmZ1umVCyy8eUQb_g1W93GacKHyJla83PCcGpMbE53B/s1600/Screenshot-200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVtfBiBmn8zCstMEiuGbPlrZsV6EeWAybMqUzt25zlUlRnQCNNT7fk6xRQXvZUOCktT7D6sU7Py3pVHbW86-EcUqf_as16R_nISmZ1umVCyy8eUQb_g1W93GacKHyJla83PCcGpMbE53B/s640/Screenshot-200.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel suddenly realizes her whole life is about to change.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel strikes up a conversation with one of her gifted program classmates, Billy Lee. Billy's already applying to various colleges for med school and they debate about many intellectual things while enjoying the cookout celebration.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkXkexHqL49g8UDhlHTfO0PrqwGvA_7kThahztJkMjIdnqFMKowtHaYW1LWNmgCPqOkxeO-DAhNL4wyQBcWBbw2W4kD_wNNyI4FCimbC7f80vIDPetZUlrZVU-Qazw02A6QQlt8mnlseC/s1600/Screenshot-215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkXkexHqL49g8UDhlHTfO0PrqwGvA_7kThahztJkMjIdnqFMKowtHaYW1LWNmgCPqOkxeO-DAhNL4wyQBcWBbw2W4kD_wNNyI4FCimbC7f80vIDPetZUlrZVU-Qazw02A6QQlt8mnlseC/s640/Screenshot-215.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This school year has been great. Isabel has a lot of friends and a new boyfriend too. Ok, so her boyfriend is technically unable to even date her now he's a young adult. Minor complication!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon happens to wander over as they're talking and does some cheesy introductions as well as slapping poor Billy on the back nearly making him choke on his hotdog while congratulating him on his aspirations to become a doctor.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdlkzxOz5gA5zCUnjVFvd6JsIc-ya0_IBHni6SeXFKkGNNp0r_LvoTrg-PhiAh5IfXLFn7X0HrVIkLH5m0Eq1XGLal1ArvOPkeRSIuIfAKJ7nvS9AppxSmykVsG2uREA5XMqrvDq_61rt/s1600/Screenshot-222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdlkzxOz5gA5zCUnjVFvd6JsIc-ya0_IBHni6SeXFKkGNNp0r_LvoTrg-PhiAh5IfXLFn7X0HrVIkLH5m0Eq1XGLal1ArvOPkeRSIuIfAKJ7nvS9AppxSmykVsG2uREA5XMqrvDq_61rt/s640/Screenshot-222.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well now the conversation just got awkward! Time to go!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As she passes her Dad, she whispers furiously ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrxFJWDRt4KrV8FBQIvfpW4v-whcnsmddRlmrg5tkUzzRfPatJ3HRNrHROBrkyW7VIoeVCqET27x1R1GqlfN9vszA2a0F9XGvZVwCTxEjYPfkPmq17e97FLqCtO7OBi8rVQzyb6HA02__/s1600/Screenshot-223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrxFJWDRt4KrV8FBQIvfpW4v-whcnsmddRlmrg5tkUzzRfPatJ3HRNrHROBrkyW7VIoeVCqET27x1R1GqlfN9vszA2a0F9XGvZVwCTxEjYPfkPmq17e97FLqCtO7OBi8rVQzyb6HA02__/s640/Screenshot-223.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<i>Don't even <b>try</b></i><b> </b>playing matchmaker Dad, no way!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon likes Billy of course, he's a much safer prospect than the much older Andy Steele.<br />
<br />
But Isabel's got this all figured out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAzWc1SmO_RdrCFQsU7VS36_qD1VCAG4ghc4GZY2Lnp4Cu-6waL1cof4Dyl6UYIsZjLN7LMrN6pI1vNesnnpGSfVaW1Fecj4NszbvOfBMsjz9uBLzm9x3qEUydHWIG5L6H9ArzbYD9W90/s1600/Screenshot-224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAzWc1SmO_RdrCFQsU7VS36_qD1VCAG4ghc4GZY2Lnp4Cu-6waL1cof4Dyl6UYIsZjLN7LMrN6pI1vNesnnpGSfVaW1Fecj4NszbvOfBMsjz9uBLzm9x3qEUydHWIG5L6H9ArzbYD9W90/s640/Screenshot-224.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Simple Math. Zero plus Zero is still ZERO."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel has ZERO intentions of settling down with a local boy and starting a family. If only her Dad really understood.<br />
<br />
She's got <b>PLANS</b>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeKH0KGJe9QyKb0tONSTbTJWYhyScLGgp0X_BynqadqA_vJ_pUzpMHgpbcLCqcXdaR_9doomeYn_FZk4vcPEe0ybTIJ_Xe2uy1UA1EjH-8IQeLSfB1tI2UCFNlCyzGxh1AfNZ4EVKl4kK/s1600/Screenshot-225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeKH0KGJe9QyKb0tONSTbTJWYhyScLGgp0X_BynqadqA_vJ_pUzpMHgpbcLCqcXdaR_9doomeYn_FZk4vcPEe0ybTIJ_Xe2uy1UA1EjH-8IQeLSfB1tI2UCFNlCyzGxh1AfNZ4EVKl4kK/s640/Screenshot-225.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this beautiful girl. This is what you call a "Smirkle"<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From: <i>The Pig's Tale</i><br />
by: Lewis Carrol<br />
<br />
Little Birds are teaching<br />
Tigresses to smile,<br />
Innocent of guile:<br />
Smile, I say, not smirkle-<br />
Mouth a semicircle,<br />
That's the proper style.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<br />
Imagine the surreal moment as you hear this poem being recited by Billy as a colorful nuthatch perches on his finger ... yeah. That's weird but cool!
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCZdJvj50JxcwFPfazGSAZUWDsY9NYIJtIWdzxwXVTbJnPeMLHK5_Iq0VcAE5F2UWvWRgII1bzddFXTbPTQeMswH41e9PglqyQyCZ3B-ITPBcg45pK9nWZxJrHnSOXqdWAVpw8IuOyokp/s1600/Screenshot-233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCZdJvj50JxcwFPfazGSAZUWDsY9NYIJtIWdzxwXVTbJnPeMLHK5_Iq0VcAE5F2UWvWRgII1bzddFXTbPTQeMswH41e9PglqyQyCZ3B-ITPBcg45pK9nWZxJrHnSOXqdWAVpw8IuOyokp/s640/Screenshot-233.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who knew? - Billy's a zoology nut like Simon. No wonder he's trying to hook them up!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Ch. 1.20 - "Endings and Beginnings" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/11/120-endings-and-beginnings.html">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
This has been my <i>absolute favorite</i> chapter to write thus far in my story - especially the scene where Andy secretly messages her that it's him she's stomping at chess and asks her to prom, how romantic is that? =) <br />
Isabel is perched upon the edge of adulthood and so many fun things are happening for her. Next chapter she becomes a young adult and the new generation roll will officially begin for Gen. 2!!<br />
<div>
<br />
I had so much fun writing in the three Steele brothers. Each has the personality just as written ... the rogue bad-boy, the shy computer geek, and the cheeky charismatic guy who's struggling academically. Isabel received a surprise phone-call after meeting Andy, and I mean literally within one sim-hour, asking her to prom. Shocked me right to laughing and so of course I had to go with it since having her break up Chase and Bethany would have been far less fun for the 'twist of fate' style I prefer! My only regret is that Andy is so much older than Isabel. Chase is only a day or two older but Andy is so much older he'll probably be hitched or moved on by the time she's anywhere near ready to find a partner. She's to remain single anyways, oh well! </div>
<div>
<br />
The park I built completely drained the family funds to nearly nothing and so Isabel is going to have quite a challenge herself in getting her career off the ground! Fortunately she has no need to move out of the house yet since she'll be traveling abroad. As soon as Nathan's old enough, I may have Simon and Sarah move out to the cabin at the lake (turning it into a residential lot instead). It's tiny but only needs a stove to be complete! It really seems like their 'living green' kind of dream anyways.
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-753149064884719602012-10-19T19:40:00.001-07:002012-10-22T21:14:01.428-07:001.18 - Teen Troubles<br />
Things were going well for Simon at his job (recent promotion to senior scientist) and Isabel was starting high school. But Sarah was now the one having a terrible time of things. Her Mother passed away unexpectedly and she hadn't gotten to resolve their differences. This has left Sarah completely depressed and unable to care for little Nathan or ride her horse in competitions which she had not done since before she and Simon got married since she was pregnant.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIKXO_mK5YhIapAzBTrO7XOKFMAmQvVLSumgDm3PIgYiFA8Z2Iy_XGcAr9mZq_GOqkv9bsUZpQmswFjis6V5fDH5Fx_8iHNfvA76n-_RT6vwJChrsDsctATx13U9E7x6KIAtvLNsEdAGh/s1600/Screenshot-72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIKXO_mK5YhIapAzBTrO7XOKFMAmQvVLSumgDm3PIgYiFA8Z2Iy_XGcAr9mZq_GOqkv9bsUZpQmswFjis6V5fDH5Fx_8iHNfvA76n-_RT6vwJChrsDsctATx13U9E7x6KIAtvLNsEdAGh/s640/Screenshot-72.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor Sarah. This is more than the baby blues. (Forgot to put a shirt on too apparently)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel really felt bad for Sarah. She didn't have a good relationship with her Mom either. They only talked on the phone once in awhile. She couldn't imagine how bad it would feel if her Mom died suddenly like that. This new sympathy led Isabel to help out around the house a lot more instead of rebellious pranks. This often meant taking care of her baby brother when Dad was busy.<br />
<br />
This was, at first, not a very enjoyable task.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFxA1WkK31WJljh9zZVlC2lgLoTZyQ9a5f7-iTtJZP8LEWV8J-6_uQHKqvG3kzG7AtnTaWKkvXjAXMdII-FPljAMIUM1DYiyal43ORkLlYYlDQL7SnPAWATqvDY2GQ9OnYMipEbxYmum8/s1600/Screenshot-119+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFxA1WkK31WJljh9zZVlC2lgLoTZyQ9a5f7-iTtJZP8LEWV8J-6_uQHKqvG3kzG7AtnTaWKkvXjAXMdII-FPljAMIUM1DYiyal43ORkLlYYlDQL7SnPAWATqvDY2GQ9OnYMipEbxYmum8/s640/Screenshot-119+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh, uuuugh! How can one tiny baby stink so much?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But changing diapers and giving bottles also comes with the reward of snuggles and smiles too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicY3G2alQWJQGrGnQu72m1X0HB_YOdmwX_zwKGJrdaORVDmYBA-tKbZF-jOjBgflRSeF5nbZSVg11eULXp3kd3rww-qCXJOrP_LOXW3OEgq7b_P9qQb28-MbeD6SpiKQJrDJKKDi163woQ/s1600/Screenshot-113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicY3G2alQWJQGrGnQu72m1X0HB_YOdmwX_zwKGJrdaORVDmYBA-tKbZF-jOjBgflRSeF5nbZSVg11eULXp3kd3rww-qCXJOrP_LOXW3OEgq7b_P9qQb28-MbeD6SpiKQJrDJKKDi163woQ/s640/Screenshot-113.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Did you just punch me in the nose?! You cute little larva!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon tries to get Sarah outside as much as possible, helping him garden or grooming her horse. But postpartum depression aggravated by her Mom's death seems to be keeping Sarah from enjoying anything at all.<br />
<br />
She finally agrees to go riding with her Father, who was also coping with the loss of his wife and also in frail health himself. Sarah and her sister Stacy were the last (twins) of six kids the Gilberts had, so they had been older already nearing elderly when she was born.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ateFmshWArxZt5Q3g7DAroE0izvWxgqtOf9bkqVAJ7tQDAeEWTIYTscn5Muokn-D21vUY6s75TkeQJDbW0HS71YoFWO8gxRUs7dxn393DZpQ2ODFqWTnKe3nlUfkfPAyObAt07unuguc/s1600/Screenshot-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ateFmshWArxZt5Q3g7DAroE0izvWxgqtOf9bkqVAJ7tQDAeEWTIYTscn5Muokn-D21vUY6s75TkeQJDbW0HS71YoFWO8gxRUs7dxn393DZpQ2ODFqWTnKe3nlUfkfPAyObAt07unuguc/s640/Screenshot-25.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sarah, I don't have much time left either. I don't want to be alone without your Mother ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Despite all their differences of lifestyle, Sarah loves her Dad and it's important to her he hears that since she hadn't had time to let her Mom know that before she passed away. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJpJppJof-StTwuVLY9SYHiDTJQYsTHhdyOVVDtjjzT4cTtkftBdGg8IG73xuIULeiFbFDMidOP1V8-f4I694S7ktuxvlVkc-Mp6SA7RjYZ7XX9Om8fp5DzLHTs32_drHv1ChP5bmxaFx/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJpJppJof-StTwuVLY9SYHiDTJQYsTHhdyOVVDtjjzT4cTtkftBdGg8IG73xuIULeiFbFDMidOP1V8-f4I694S7ktuxvlVkc-Mp6SA7RjYZ7XX9Om8fp5DzLHTs32_drHv1ChP5bmxaFx/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I know your Mother didn't always agree with your "Living Green" lifestyle, but we have always loved you..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She and her Dad go to dinner to celebrate her aging up to her middle years.<br />
<br />
Sarah feels a lot better after spending time with her Dad, and even enters a competition that night, placing a respectable third place. Not bad after being out of the saddle awhile!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi062-VWE8Nsiq-MGR34YwqV7Bx7gfGB6MwdqtDWuqoEMeKW9lpEiNQbHkUyN6hK0T3ei9QkNJlRthyc6lUwz783L0FYC2r51bqmJKe2MsvSfMkOTnptW1CQhZhsqeHONECUEa3JOyQYw8K/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi062-VWE8Nsiq-MGR34YwqV7Bx7gfGB6MwdqtDWuqoEMeKW9lpEiNQbHkUyN6hK0T3ei9QkNJlRthyc6lUwz783L0FYC2r51bqmJKe2MsvSfMkOTnptW1CQhZhsqeHONECUEa3JOyQYw8K/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Good job Moonie ol' girl ... you still got the moves!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel offers to babysit so Sarah can start riding competitions in the evenings. To pass the time, she invites some kids from the chess club over. Only one of them, another fellow genius, is able to beat Sarah about a third of the rounds they play against one another.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA8_S8a3efG2b-1_AtW7JuqSdh5r1bxjcXNxkevITZzORtoCgsVwpzUT23yNVg_PYMK2O0Uhdp9FhwsY_iUUAEbrGSC-Ku8A1aZpcjyxynQV6rG7Fpo_v55QXl3qj83lxlJswk8KTPI7_/s1600/Screenshot-123+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA8_S8a3efG2b-1_AtW7JuqSdh5r1bxjcXNxkevITZzORtoCgsVwpzUT23yNVg_PYMK2O0Uhdp9FhwsY_iUUAEbrGSC-Ku8A1aZpcjyxynQV6rG7Fpo_v55QXl3qj83lxlJswk8KTPI7_/s640/Screenshot-123+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your birthday party was fun, too bad half the kids who showed up were stupid. You're the only other smart girl I know."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The only problem is, Katie Lanson is also exceptionally grumpy. So every time she loses, she gets mad, dumps the pieces on the floor, and leaves in a huff.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkchgAb0Mr1MNIMi5qN1LEW11BHd-XDIz81DB9K9UwE-IilKR_7dovJO4IjPKsKzu2o8hALLghzbF14H0oIo6bHtV_I_5zvePLOss9ZNt-I-SXQNyLVGitqun9daSHoNpkODf7Rw6Y-CW/s1600/Screenshot-124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkchgAb0Mr1MNIMi5qN1LEW11BHd-XDIz81DB9K9UwE-IilKR_7dovJO4IjPKsKzu2o8hALLghzbF14H0oIo6bHtV_I_5zvePLOss9ZNt-I-SXQNyLVGitqun9daSHoNpkODf7Rw6Y-CW/s640/Screenshot-124.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Defeated again!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Which Isabel thinks is hilarious.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHkAQ-oTozA9CgTlL3qYlDuxUIUykiRBrvacQZYN7fS9EDVxxg7r43xyiT9BysthXlOZqgxTln0_R5oEWbi0_FxlS4CIbLuhZ3EbXPrGp1n72YxnFB1hG3eduADq_puyIw7r1ksEm3hSMB/s1600/Screenshot-125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHkAQ-oTozA9CgTlL3qYlDuxUIUykiRBrvacQZYN7fS9EDVxxg7r43xyiT9BysthXlOZqgxTln0_R5oEWbi0_FxlS4CIbLuhZ3EbXPrGp1n72YxnFB1hG3eduADq_puyIw7r1ksEm3hSMB/s640/Screenshot-125.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The diabolical genius reveling in her victory.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As a genius, Isabel's thirst for knowledge is insatiable. She spends a great deal of time trying to "Solve the Unsolvable" - special Sim challenges offered over the internet which came with prize money. It's not surprising she was one of the first in the special "Simsa High IQ Society" to solve a new problem in one of her all day long sessions.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iEMHwy8JnNBuWkyVZaqtleE9Od0ilRcnbKlO6sPkoeQfl6ptAWtuIqB_3We-Eim8T6A7KbfvLonEtKUtziiRtebN5ruZiZWusBiELuhP20_1q1Ok9LC6aCNQ6QuM6tTpRrg1HzI7szng/s1600/Screenshot-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iEMHwy8JnNBuWkyVZaqtleE9Od0ilRcnbKlO6sPkoeQfl6ptAWtuIqB_3We-Eim8T6A7KbfvLonEtKUtziiRtebN5ruZiZWusBiELuhP20_1q1Ok9LC6aCNQ6QuM6tTpRrg1HzI7szng/s640/Screenshot-51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Success! Isabel has found a 0 (n) solution for primality testing. Getting an extra $150 to boot makes solving problems pretty lucrative!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
High School, however, comes with new challenges for Isabel. She is so easily bored by regular classes that she often skips and hides out at the library to study. She has straight A's and her teachers love her, so they tend to overlook her absences.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyNH3gWqN30jsywC7lD_QwYZjhvrqziruUpQ4i4vIzdZpQjbXiHIpasaCRsuPx9jKmQYlq-7H4DyyZRTCgF7ouK8Q_Fdw_JsKQnDqxLRbHqwL1ai3ya1B8aGH01ez0lZHuKnl91nclYfm/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyNH3gWqN30jsywC7lD_QwYZjhvrqziruUpQ4i4vIzdZpQjbXiHIpasaCRsuPx9jKmQYlq-7H4DyyZRTCgF7ouK8Q_Fdw_JsKQnDqxLRbHqwL1ai3ya1B8aGH01ez0lZHuKnl91nclYfm/s640/Screenshot-5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If I can just make it to lunch, I can skip out and still have a few hours of computer time"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Her Dad's unwillingness to buy anything new, including a computer, is one of the few points of contention between Isabel and Simon. Privately, Simon likes having Isabel come down to the lab to do research on their clunky old machines anyways.<br />
<br />
And research she does. Isabel has it all planned out. She's going to start traveling after school and visit far away places where she can study ancient sim-civilizations.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmeXDBX9HTEr1Tq9dcEyCabF0Vc30tABd3IvArSwkAkcGF3awdWMRZZalr9hO7orLi1JUx2fqwg0yD49Xw5bR8Zy52qirT0GWkdogblErwNSLe8ryT5rRsFgH8CVn4jZGAVF703ddt43q/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmeXDBX9HTEr1Tq9dcEyCabF0Vc30tABd3IvArSwkAkcGF3awdWMRZZalr9hO7orLi1JUx2fqwg0yD49Xw5bR8Zy52qirT0GWkdogblErwNSLe8ryT5rRsFgH8CVn4jZGAVF703ddt43q/s640/Screenshot-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad thinks she's studying, but she's actually running price checks on travel tickets ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There are a few things Isabel knows she is going to need to start her dream, and one of them is <b>money</b>. Her Dad, though frugal, is not rich. And now, he tells her all their savings are going into a new project he is starting with Sarah. They are going to buy the old run down Cinnamon Falls park and fix it up into a campground by doing all the work themselves using up-cycled materials from torn down barns and farm fencing. Unfortunately the cost of the lot itself is quite high, taking all their savings from the sale of their old house.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy06gyQ8f7xCy6cQV4xxDG87dmeO_XutGKwyCZqGg20g2iMUToyxipBsub121TwAZf1tv8kPNC_RanDTaB_Tp0YoEFvxjjIMF2ENrc2hrWAi_YtOnDCC6AH5x7lq_DQUCtSqs0J4V1az3d/s1600/Screenshot-130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy06gyQ8f7xCy6cQV4xxDG87dmeO_XutGKwyCZqGg20g2iMUToyxipBsub121TwAZf1tv8kPNC_RanDTaB_Tp0YoEFvxjjIMF2ENrc2hrWAi_YtOnDCC6AH5x7lq_DQUCtSqs0J4V1az3d/s640/Screenshot-130.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"A campground? Why can't we buy the old dinosaur dig site and fix THAT up? Campgrounds are boring!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's Simon's dream to own a public piece of a park and give back to the community something for others to enjoy nature. Cinnamon Falls has always been his favorite place and he wants to grow old there with Sarah. Plus, building it gives them something to do together and helps Sarah overcome her depression by keeping her busy.<br />
<br />
The plans for the park renovation will take the better part of a year. Sarah and Simon have started paying Isabel to babysit Nathan almost every night (Simon refused to have strangers babysit anyways). This is Isabel's first after school 'job' though she'd rather be working at the bookstore with her friend Katie, or Billy, who were both in the gifted program at school with her and starting a book discussion club after hours.<br />
<br />
Just as Sarah was starting to smile a little more often ... tragedy strikes again and her Father also passes away, broken-heartedly following his wife to the grave with Grimmy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq_fz2z40DJ0__ns2_6BCmskdmMQV515YmD8YJi-ee7J7HWS6L3vefuwkIKyFDmA3Gqi1zwYfQZjhTN7AZ2ZaNtW53rZkCYilGPIkLryIP9LuDXcANSOeiH1eDTbCMTTw9AS2kl3aeQj2/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq_fz2z40DJ0__ns2_6BCmskdmMQV515YmD8YJi-ee7J7HWS6L3vefuwkIKyFDmA3Gqi1zwYfQZjhTN7AZ2ZaNtW53rZkCYilGPIkLryIP9LuDXcANSOeiH1eDTbCMTTw9AS2kl3aeQj2/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel just doesn't know what to do to comfort Sarah as she stands at the sink sobbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The best thing Isabel could think of was to try and be good and helpful as much as possible.<br />
<br />
She tries to learn to cook, but that ends in a minor disaster too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpzMH8m-29QXjkXr5E_Wgr-bj67OwrI2u7hp_mhwr7vAdQibxIHfUtpvGXPETkg2Q8asG_FWyWmny4o3yxQWvGzAk8GNao0MiSgx82NfuYt67cEVsDDVCkQL30Y-Oed8T4WZ_XyiAPqnhv/s1600/Screenshot-184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpzMH8m-29QXjkXr5E_Wgr-bj67OwrI2u7hp_mhwr7vAdQibxIHfUtpvGXPETkg2Q8asG_FWyWmny4o3yxQWvGzAk8GNao0MiSgx82NfuYt67cEVsDDVCkQL30Y-Oed8T4WZ_XyiAPqnhv/s640/Screenshot-184.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah didn't even try to help, she just ran and hid in her room ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Fortunately Isabel's brave trait really comes in handy. This kind of thing doesn't even phase her and she quickly extinguishes the fire. If only the dirty counters and dishes were so easy to get rid of too!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vh7KU1KUp_8FnmOMYxNhX699NZwhqubjSWzgmdaLCmfmccOPQT2Ypx9j2jaCnnZK5pJnkMagnE7vIYRQ0zftNBUzxECaYCiwxLVlLRKrSXLRIDULkU0XwI5HwtGGP-_tPN5oHWj2w2as/s1600/Screenshot-185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vh7KU1KUp_8FnmOMYxNhX699NZwhqubjSWzgmdaLCmfmccOPQT2Ypx9j2jaCnnZK5pJnkMagnE7vIYRQ0zftNBUzxECaYCiwxLVlLRKrSXLRIDULkU0XwI5HwtGGP-_tPN5oHWj2w2as/s640/Screenshot-185.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Crap, there went my waffles!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon tales a week off work to help Sarah through yet another grieving period. They have a small cabin started out at the new campground and Sarah seems better when she's there and much less upset.<br />
<br />
Isabel stays home all weekend to help tiny Nathan bust out of his blue larva blanket and become a cute toddler.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuvsL9skvzzR6DgXvy8jFyGLRl6iPkHiNanabCaFYzRjdBBbbAPHhpgigz0p1xisibT6BcmU3fA0s_I_HLxNredn_RaTzes9cSFv8JSy8xaYzv6fPo97ZzC_F3SXZWl3g8VCrzRQoq0EB/s1600/Screenshot-93.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuvsL9skvzzR6DgXvy8jFyGLRl6iPkHiNanabCaFYzRjdBBbbAPHhpgigz0p1xisibT6BcmU3fA0s_I_HLxNredn_RaTzes9cSFv8JSy8xaYzv6fPo97ZzC_F3SXZWl3g8VCrzRQoq0EB/s640/Screenshot-93.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad's hair color and tiny mouth, Mom's bright blue eyes. Cute kid!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
With as distant as Sarah had been after his birth, it isn't surprising how quickly little Nathan takes to Isabel like she's his surrogate Mom. Sometimes only Isabel has the touch to get him to go to bed at night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2M_R2sl9ICDa4kI-3gu4ywHNzmWBKLViZQe-Z7c3vp0EBqNDzRVICrTI2Dg90qGPyJnvGtJRTl6A23zIzyj4J07DHZD4TnKAYiFXpOSgVZzpc1TdUN9URJtCwa8NiXSzgBi4cb85uwDu/s1600/Screenshot-104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2M_R2sl9ICDa4kI-3gu4ywHNzmWBKLViZQe-Z7c3vp0EBqNDzRVICrTI2Dg90qGPyJnvGtJRTl6A23zIzyj4J07DHZD4TnKAYiFXpOSgVZzpc1TdUN9URJtCwa8NiXSzgBi4cb85uwDu/s640/Screenshot-104.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey it's ok little guy, I'll be right in the next room studying - don't worry."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Missing Nathan's birthday and spending so much time out at the campground construction site sends Sarah into another tailspin of grief and misery.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJHAZKYhckwBfe9X1RNmu52IxD0-NgLCJi1BhH1t3hKvaNv8H4yHL7n4ds9WRbrWDoXf7VWKZMx586Bz6l9tYTt4FwQoOf8LG2GDO_DjvQqW_5bLnw6jYACYKfkHSXnQU9BbNxZQbug3e/s1600/Screenshot-91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJHAZKYhckwBfe9X1RNmu52IxD0-NgLCJi1BhH1t3hKvaNv8H4yHL7n4ds9WRbrWDoXf7VWKZMx586Bz6l9tYTt4FwQoOf8LG2GDO_DjvQqW_5bLnw6jYACYKfkHSXnQU9BbNxZQbug3e/s640/Screenshot-91.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emotionally fragile Sarah.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But both Simon and Isabel do the best they can to pick up the slack when Sarah goes to bed early every night, exhausted from working or sad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgk6SdsOTo-QInuEeLk2YVeeGGEi9Owo1MQXYBScETJvydK0Y7vd9pchVAiS8fuq4KhihbhWUkfMGcWOaN0dLOP6ti9gwiqed9HVLI7PkYOs5BvupzuLimJYZWlJbv5AuNnMSJ74hUSuC/s1600/Screenshot-155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgk6SdsOTo-QInuEeLk2YVeeGGEi9Owo1MQXYBScETJvydK0Y7vd9pchVAiS8fuq4KhihbhWUkfMGcWOaN0dLOP6ti9gwiqed9HVLI7PkYOs5BvupzuLimJYZWlJbv5AuNnMSJ74hUSuC/s640/Screenshot-155.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon manages to get a meal successfully cooked without another fire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel gets a break on the weekends from babysitting. Simon's got a good handle on little Nathan.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9204WUu00V5IkDrmDIWTl2Clu_hu8TKa7kIRpA-BcfRRZDb8Ob6i8Vm1SnF1hIHT6CkYxeJ_e-ZkEf7Aiei7Cd4qDFoYJohuBk8YOSiv82IC_TVMbn7pOauKdqTa__-eR1UeO4V6Gu6cz/s1600/Screenshot-156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9204WUu00V5IkDrmDIWTl2Clu_hu8TKa7kIRpA-BcfRRZDb8Ob6i8Vm1SnF1hIHT6CkYxeJ_e-ZkEf7Aiei7Cd4qDFoYJohuBk8YOSiv82IC_TVMbn7pOauKdqTa__-eR1UeO4V6Gu6cz/s640/Screenshot-156.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This house is so bare and drab - but Simon won't buy a single bit more furniture ... damn that Living Green roll!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Nathan picks up walking very quickly, he is almost as active and adventurous as Isabel was, but not quite.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRjAhVJxKcS_opcvvO3CA3Jxj7WmkZivEjGWqI7vuFvNDcm1UMCBb4MsGXEZ32HlVPvTvOp9QqnuxPlv5W9Bd-UJvbsVcH8iB6eiyLNPhdA14HvVRFmq4zx5Wl5wp8Mn6fTYibr4Q85H6/s1600/Screenshot-157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRjAhVJxKcS_opcvvO3CA3Jxj7WmkZivEjGWqI7vuFvNDcm1UMCBb4MsGXEZ32HlVPvTvOp9QqnuxPlv5W9Bd-UJvbsVcH8iB6eiyLNPhdA14HvVRFmq4zx5Wl5wp8Mn6fTYibr4Q85H6/s640/Screenshot-157.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toddler in jammies, aww!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In her free time when she's not babysitting and on the weekends, Isabel has started up a tutoring program to earn extra money and school credit by helping kids around town with their failing grades.<br />
<br />
One of her first "clients" happens to be none other than an old childhood friend... Chase Steele.<br />
<br />
Isabel arrives at the Steele horse ranch on her first night of tutoring and is totally thrown off guard by the adorably charming Chase ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaV4rdvHeU-SGwwoZudANsqHyC9VrJNASQNopcexu6iuAPW1NTp8iL-ADYM1szTFhQ7TbEL00sKhL_8wb6Y3eQO_nnU_rVeucpIB9jzLIRBRKoqpGWUh-ZK5FdaLcgM4ibcVYy-9MaQJ4-/s1600/Screenshot-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaV4rdvHeU-SGwwoZudANsqHyC9VrJNASQNopcexu6iuAPW1NTp8iL-ADYM1szTFhQ7TbEL00sKhL_8wb6Y3eQO_nnU_rVeucpIB9jzLIRBRKoqpGWUh-ZK5FdaLcgM4ibcVYy-9MaQJ4-/s640/Screenshot-33.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel is thinking "Oh wow, this was totally unexpected ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel, typically brave and confident, is left stammering when she tries to introduce herself awkwardly as butterflies swarm inside making her want to laugh nervously.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3JPf33W7IKCnH50dzglPf-kCtkpT1UgoyRrfFLmBVdrMVWYDnADHf9rpvrcKz_Wuc0sjfEhMXvhwTUkkOfe9fybvtUx2XOaxP_pQFObPfM4HAYuGkhHegHFiCgSYb8ceTq7jyt_9X0Vx/s1600/Screenshot-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3JPf33W7IKCnH50dzglPf-kCtkpT1UgoyRrfFLmBVdrMVWYDnADHf9rpvrcKz_Wuc0sjfEhMXvhwTUkkOfe9fybvtUx2XOaxP_pQFObPfM4HAYuGkhHegHFiCgSYb8ceTq7jyt_9X0Vx/s640/Screenshot-40.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uh ...hi. I'm here to to tickle you... errrr... <i>TUTOR </i>you, I mean...uh. yeah. Tutor." Chase grins, "huh??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And for the first time, Isabel's got an instant crush. She's not sure how she's going to sit so close to this guy and actually work out algebra problems. Especially when he grins mischievously and says he'd rather sit outside in the fresh air to do his homework.<br />
<br />
She sits down shy and uncertain next to Chase.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2H3Nf2yBdtFceuPqpQqUgtUSrfd0QhTSZ5Vrk9MnkEzoFjnrXuyfcPikm_iDEGF6FXgaPNKrMWG0BhuzMogwpmsCxazqEjOlSjYZZJ5gUyyo0dEusQlolAeOYRThEjQoVlrjFc7zTIHnA/s1600/Screenshot-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2H3Nf2yBdtFceuPqpQqUgtUSrfd0QhTSZ5Vrk9MnkEzoFjnrXuyfcPikm_iDEGF6FXgaPNKrMWG0BhuzMogwpmsCxazqEjOlSjYZZJ5gUyyo0dEusQlolAeOYRThEjQoVlrjFc7zTIHnA/s640/Screenshot-43.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel thinking to herself, "oh my, help me Watcher, he smells like saddle leather and cinnamon rolls - I think I'm dying..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But she manages to focus on the work, which comes easily to her - and helps Chase get through studying for his Algebra exam without any dying or further silly slip ups.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW4aZStTdUXtqbHsWM63KN6wapqGXAb2YrqId490tc24mDvJi2x9fhYhED9t06qIjXcjoIZWUhvFI8kzP8WIokB6i4nVtgJSiIqpRECC-vUDH1CmkVols4tXWG46NJDSSIKwdcgcHaElC/s1600/Screenshot-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW4aZStTdUXtqbHsWM63KN6wapqGXAb2YrqId490tc24mDvJi2x9fhYhED9t06qIjXcjoIZWUhvFI8kzP8WIokB6i4nVtgJSiIqpRECC-vUDH1CmkVols4tXWG46NJDSSIKwdcgcHaElC/s640/Screenshot-42.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Right, now you've got it. You'll do fine on your test now."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
That night, it's something other than travels to faraway places that fills Isabel's dreams ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6cvWml2k2WbrnaVZRhBV55kZcYBtV2yrxP5rz8wbctO2qgBk6PYEloMq-qChI2ldc-B9nRcVT1q1E3BD0KZWLAdS5EFen3O4sW1N_HZFx7E6bU0rcAy5BIM3o_sN6zS56OppW3Yx9flD/s1600/Screenshot-175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6cvWml2k2WbrnaVZRhBV55kZcYBtV2yrxP5rz8wbctO2qgBk6PYEloMq-qChI2ldc-B9nRcVT1q1E3BD0KZWLAdS5EFen3O4sW1N_HZFx7E6bU0rcAy5BIM3o_sN6zS56OppW3Yx9flD/s640/Screenshot-175.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The innocence of young love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Read onward to ch. 1.19 - "Smart is Sexy" -- <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/119-smart-is-sexy.html">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
- Poor Sarah has had a yellow or orange plumbob for pretty much almost a full 6 or 7 sim days! Her Mom died, then no sooner was she over that moodlet then Dad up and dies too. Then a stray cat decided to croak on the doorstep, complete with grimmy showing up to suck it up into cat heaven which set her and her own cat Ginger off (she's an animal lover) - then the stove fire, and being humiliated by an argument with her jerky brother pretty much gave her 3-4 bad moodlets at a time hah. Good thing Isabel and Simon took up the slack in caring for poor little Nathan or he'd have had a very bad babyhood of crying in his crib.<br />
<br />
- As required by the "Living Green" generation roll I'm having the family buy a park and turn it into a public campground - big park category. (Cinnamon Falls fishing hole lot in Appaloosa Plains) It's underway and I hope to have it finished tonight! I'll update with a new chapter and pictures of it over the weekend. I originally intended to do something quite small to save money but I got carried away and used up all the money from the sale of their house on it haha!<br />
<br />
- Chase and his two older brothers all turned out absolutely stunningly handsome - I took tons of screenshots of them (Their Dad and Mom sure have great genetics if anyone wants some fresh beautiful sim genes I'll share them! haha). They'll play a really big part in next chapter as well with a rather surprising / shocking switch in events for Isabel's first teen romance!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-69988904735716732602012-10-11T20:07:00.000-07:002012-10-19T19:41:55.347-07:001.17 - Growing Pains<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Things have been moving along at a rapid pace in the new "Twist Family v.2.0" and everyone's experiencing a few growing pains along the way.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sarah broke the news to her parents, who seem to care more about valuable horses than their 5 children. At least Sarah's Dad was happy for her, but her Mom refused to speak to her for marrying someone beneath her quality requirements.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCAsC2gx10ogejg5orRgiF1Stq5YyVPc5P_9wdZh3RjuOjL_FklaaWG8TvIsNia46gWAUrNW5D1jI4b7o82ufuVG8ZgOfrlpGQnseEWmhl9qBvLZyLmV5EXygCbEBamT4fXZVInOMHWhe/s1600/Screenshot-123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCAsC2gx10ogejg5orRgiF1Stq5YyVPc5P_9wdZh3RjuOjL_FklaaWG8TvIsNia46gWAUrNW5D1jI4b7o82ufuVG8ZgOfrlpGQnseEWmhl9qBvLZyLmV5EXygCbEBamT4fXZVInOMHWhe/s640/Screenshot-123.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Congratulations Sarah, *ahem* ... <i>we're </i>happy for you ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And Simon had a slight panic attack the day he and Sarah went down to the courthouse to tie the knot, but managed to hold it together and get through the moment without freaking out.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOw5CC5y3Z6_nWUU25ZRPA2_GtYlJcY-edOxpb1erxVAjsxSDihvcTnmHNLCe_3csN0baHWy46Xr-LfbYAwCohicP6ADG_m_OxG-uoQVKgqItmJajHCKstFCn4PzYDwspUASIc2n2gJIay/s1600/Screenshot-137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOw5CC5y3Z6_nWUU25ZRPA2_GtYlJcY-edOxpb1erxVAjsxSDihvcTnmHNLCe_3csN0baHWy46Xr-LfbYAwCohicP6ADG_m_OxG-uoQVKgqItmJajHCKstFCn4PzYDwspUASIc2n2gJIay/s640/Screenshot-137.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Simon, she's not a monster, go to the door and greet your 'bride-to-be' haha!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The decision was made (against Isabel's vote) to sell the cute little bungalow and use the money to renovate Sarah's little house down in the valley because it has a field for her racing horse and is bigger and better suited for a family with pets, if not as charming as their previous house.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofgcXtTinsWNNf6eQMKg7Eg-nPcZlWIQifzJG5e678TKcJp5Evp3_qT8OwgeVWeI72dZg5zhLXsDInrCuoG99XOmBiFY2tHhcz813Fqz1wGjXtUULLEGA6CVkxe64d0Ks0x2HBZaMFH-6/s1600/Screenshot-135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofgcXtTinsWNNf6eQMKg7Eg-nPcZlWIQifzJG5e678TKcJp5Evp3_qT8OwgeVWeI72dZg5zhLXsDInrCuoG99XOmBiFY2tHhcz813Fqz1wGjXtUULLEGA6CVkxe64d0Ks0x2HBZaMFH-6/s640/Screenshot-135.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The boring little 'sunflower shack' as Isabel dubs it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Simon insisted on highly 'green living' energy efficient siding and roofing. (aka ugly-gray-stuff)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Several weeks of extensive renovations to create a second floor resulted in this somewhat boring looking house:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOE0DNrccq_RpLFY58m5s_KMwyhhO2_FRh2ctQakksepAncvC2-EANsYvnsPKLol22PijsR7_ug6Mu2BHFAiOUWIZcavaDuulQwkyaWNeVONTn1QAIj2yT4xQHcQXWoqPfIDm_OJFnBonY/s1600/Screenshot-173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOE0DNrccq_RpLFY58m5s_KMwyhhO2_FRh2ctQakksepAncvC2-EANsYvnsPKLol22PijsR7_ug6Mu2BHFAiOUWIZcavaDuulQwkyaWNeVONTn1QAIj2yT4xQHcQXWoqPfIDm_OJFnBonY/s640/Screenshot-173.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well at least Isabel got the camping tent she requested since she lost her treehouse in the move!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They did splurge on a nice big room for Isabel with plenty of room for her pet dragon and to expand her dig-site collections. But, Isabel was having some 'adjustment issues' with the move, marriage and pending sibling arrival.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0qt_hwrLQi3v84CqysneFpqXYoHbP9JLwcS6DBep69TBwu9XYI4UNj4AkpnZV86hOqx1fPLBDFVP8aUfR2H0hNofi-TIegFuYwCbrOkog2vZ4Ox961GXih3zN0_IQqCsz60Lj5tXIktW/s1600/Screenshot-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0qt_hwrLQi3v84CqysneFpqXYoHbP9JLwcS6DBep69TBwu9XYI4UNj4AkpnZV86hOqx1fPLBDFVP8aUfR2H0hNofi-TIegFuYwCbrOkog2vZ4Ox961GXih3zN0_IQqCsz60Lj5tXIktW/s640/Screenshot-149.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Deinonychus Ruberus </i>goes on the <b>ATTACK</b>!! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next prank Isabel would pull could have ended very, very badly ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqs7weHTs5KbLAOYB-OhT5tUZi8H6-xTtp36mDNF7RnALHK0RFpAkcwWsldv9hyN1RphuURcztiK5_VcDx_K1Ol0Qus2BtVh6ZeWkO8ZmnhHBJWSuyCHLjDRUCvlDHhF-E4ZCLdGfgcJ2/s1600/Screenshot-151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqs7weHTs5KbLAOYB-OhT5tUZi8H6-xTtp36mDNF7RnALHK0RFpAkcwWsldv9hyN1RphuURcztiK5_VcDx_K1Ol0Qus2BtVh6ZeWkO8ZmnhHBJWSuyCHLjDRUCvlDHhF-E4ZCLdGfgcJ2/s640/Screenshot-151.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And now to locate <i>the victim</i> ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sarah was easily convinced.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuzqHFl3PUrA5KRQzEDx9yD78U90cgYCuxy5bV7qZovOrSZ885hFC8UMsHdXBhnbDbP-Zj8T2Nybjc9mjSpvRcVztvUYGbpMCDth8tE_pBG7WPWZL3SeTVT4txIwps0zSS3WsRDShzPw6/s1600/Screenshot-153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuzqHFl3PUrA5KRQzEDx9yD78U90cgYCuxy5bV7qZovOrSZ885hFC8UMsHdXBhnbDbP-Zj8T2Nybjc9mjSpvRcVztvUYGbpMCDth8tE_pBG7WPWZL3SeTVT4txIwps0zSS3WsRDShzPw6/s640/Screenshot-153.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What's this, a drink for me? Oh thank you Isabel. I was thirsty after grooming Moonshadow all morning, how sweet!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Uh oh.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-REPwew1-gssN94drtxXZtLlgFGZlRGAdqw1vCNIPT0W-Rtag5V1q8-tXf1RucoY9xuBjinqv2xYSqMcnV4gswm_wC8vOwWSCg4oEUsAi-B7IPNQtCwOdZ63lE5s4RzpauVGxkUNB6IKA/s1600/Screenshot-155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-REPwew1-gssN94drtxXZtLlgFGZlRGAdqw1vCNIPT0W-Rtag5V1q8-tXf1RucoY9xuBjinqv2xYSqMcnV4gswm_wC8vOwWSCg4oEUsAi-B7IPNQtCwOdZ63lE5s4RzpauVGxkUNB6IKA/s640/Screenshot-155.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uh yeah, just a drink of juice ..."<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifg_kw-IiY2f3lHA2ULOHub40UNbmOmm0uazUJri2MnUCb5jWGZSpdy_4HYK-aGkszn21lOxZ6zUK35-fmsDc8qz1rp_QyszNiqVvEtLAFFntC08x9sggso5mtD8swvd92JLFGbUdi3Xf0/s1600/Screenshot-157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifg_kw-IiY2f3lHA2ULOHub40UNbmOmm0uazUJri2MnUCb5jWGZSpdy_4HYK-aGkszn21lOxZ6zUK35-fmsDc8qz1rp_QyszNiqVvEtLAFFntC08x9sggso5mtD8swvd92JLFGbUdi3Xf0/s640/Screenshot-157.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"gulp-gulp-gulp"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwInt88HvkUt9LlFcnxi6gmQMfQzghKFMN7R-9u5Ql-MSufJE1G_84PWqsxN8OYZ2jn9fYr6QB4r7nd4o9vyDeqU4OiElkzmYgzHg3EdQHsLZ1v4sIWa0DgfOJKNGGmeaoKHj1sW7FoGHP/s1600/Screenshot-158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwInt88HvkUt9LlFcnxi6gmQMfQzghKFMN7R-9u5Ql-MSufJE1G_84PWqsxN8OYZ2jn9fYr6QB4r7nd4o9vyDeqU4OiElkzmYgzHg3EdQHsLZ1v4sIWa0DgfOJKNGGmeaoKHj1sW7FoGHP/s640/Screenshot-158.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ooo I feel a little funny ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But ...<br />
<br />
Nothing happened.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KOlUG1HmgNPwwCDm17HrP381nGmXWevzX4r8XxeiWBo7BKbItGI_05opC9OONyOSAg1w_nDIDc9wUfMneG_z71DLVxN00SmI2WXfXaOrqXFiPt1wxGxrKUSLPPbl_9KcOknwwjYmsyXU/s1600/Screenshot-161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KOlUG1HmgNPwwCDm17HrP381nGmXWevzX4r8XxeiWBo7BKbItGI_05opC9OONyOSAg1w_nDIDc9wUfMneG_z71DLVxN00SmI2WXfXaOrqXFiPt1wxGxrKUSLPPbl_9KcOknwwjYmsyXU/s640/Screenshot-161.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Back to the drawing board - time to study advanced chemistry"<br />
(Isabel doesn't realize pregnant sims are immune to potions)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon celebrated his birthday into his middle years quietly at home that night with Sarah cheering him on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxdwJMEFLVq7s6rOhvh5je5r15cxn4mw3E5E0l9zB5UNQ0H4ohmse4BG6YWOZN6oAKy6dweY4r1mgc4ory8aa6jNx4z4nC45wpInaUbF1DmPrwAXl-UE1LkktS7xBYWlbQpoOLmZiwT2y/s1600/Screenshot-168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxdwJMEFLVq7s6rOhvh5je5r15cxn4mw3E5E0l9zB5UNQ0H4ohmse4BG6YWOZN6oAKy6dweY4r1mgc4ory8aa6jNx4z4nC45wpInaUbF1DmPrwAXl-UE1LkktS7xBYWlbQpoOLmZiwT2y/s640/Screenshot-168.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I suddenly feel... like having a mid-life crisis!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But then, something <i>DID </i>happen ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOcINJ0xOYwGhygViPrxAF30Wl1tW1jbmNDLZESUI1Axuj8Uyb2Z9JbTj6iE6XwngbIMw0j87wb3eMvSWHlS64dyLpoxeJYptO610BgWFO4YozfBTEkPfmO23lJa-9OeayI3Ql9AHIpWc6/s1600/Screenshot-170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOcINJ0xOYwGhygViPrxAF30Wl1tW1jbmNDLZESUI1Axuj8Uyb2Z9JbTj6iE6XwngbIMw0j87wb3eMvSWHlS64dyLpoxeJYptO610BgWFO4YozfBTEkPfmO23lJa-9OeayI3Ql9AHIpWc6/s640/Screenshot-170.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel thinking "Uh, that was an unexpectedly delayed reaction ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Fortunately for Isabel, it was just Sarah going into labor, apparently at the right time and nothing weird, but Isabel still felt somewhat terrified her potion had done something horrible to cause it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She had to spend all night and part of the next day at the Barnes house, enduring strange looks from Bethany and Anna which only furthered Isabel's paranoia that she'd killed Sarah somehow.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsySN4xsIvlb3hYTxAyPi_OczcA_4DjMO1UUv7FgOAJ6ZjNeflUCcelaHG4D5FOSno4rF6eKMS5YEiEPpjyQXiHgb5JviwVnBc86kAia5YcjSZt9FjLTEi5vY0mcQM9VTBrxYE3t2qClsT/s1600/Screenshot-180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsySN4xsIvlb3hYTxAyPi_OczcA_4DjMO1UUv7FgOAJ6ZjNeflUCcelaHG4D5FOSno4rF6eKMS5YEiEPpjyQXiHgb5JviwVnBc86kAia5YcjSZt9FjLTEi5vY0mcQM9VTBrxYE3t2qClsT/s640/Screenshot-180.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling very small and nervous in the Barnes very large house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was better to just be outside. At least there she could breathe and daydream and try not to worry.<br />
<br />
She spent the next morning waiting impatiently for her Dad to show up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKYnjD80fM7llcr7-VyzJIpKNLLsLBJTv3NwxMxrogLxS3uLq2MaMETA-1PDr2fOV6uEuaiuF3F_348p4-UleJmOAdJQsyPAW-3vmTdQOJ7jy0x29D5XDCGLII-dBQ06FJCqCeaKgNtE7/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKYnjD80fM7llcr7-VyzJIpKNLLsLBJTv3NwxMxrogLxS3uLq2MaMETA-1PDr2fOV6uEuaiuF3F_348p4-UleJmOAdJQsyPAW-3vmTdQOJ7jy0x29D5XDCGLII-dBQ06FJCqCeaKgNtE7/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I wish I was a million miles away right now."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Finally Melody called Isabel inside to give her the news ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM_kegtm0UeuBOnUkUs_EgmUvELiXV2PqS5xnY1p_hYkG9gJnOGCzo0fFefmBPCzmyVqyGV9HOUUwYdwaPh0OK7qbIG8lBESfWi74Gtz25yStRsKZjq06_RuKbIyhaee7qcDPcpGreDO3/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM_kegtm0UeuBOnUkUs_EgmUvELiXV2PqS5xnY1p_hYkG9gJnOGCzo0fFefmBPCzmyVqyGV9HOUUwYdwaPh0OK7qbIG8lBESfWi74Gtz25yStRsKZjq06_RuKbIyhaee7qcDPcpGreDO3/s640/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your Dad and Sarah are on their way home now, you have a brand new healthy baby brother!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel raced home on her bike, relieved beyond words to know her potion hadn't done anything terrible.<br />
<br />
She inspected the little blue blanket wrapped bundle of wrinkles and red splotches. He <i>seemed </i>like a normal newborn animal to her ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBht_0SzQhLdNvzf_yuHWOKWOsCIHu6WxK49u5cBCM3d0giJC-dkoO4gfiq_Zo7lQskFx5LLIU94pXTKGuEySyHqL-LTpei7h5S_eSWhc-Fxli_zvtUwZEzqTV5xbHSap7wj0-WDzgmJCh/s1600/Screenshot-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBht_0SzQhLdNvzf_yuHWOKWOsCIHu6WxK49u5cBCM3d0giJC-dkoO4gfiq_Zo7lQskFx5LLIU94pXTKGuEySyHqL-LTpei7h5S_eSWhc-Fxli_zvtUwZEzqTV5xbHSap7wj0-WDzgmJCh/s640/Screenshot-13.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What if the potion turned him into a <i>vampire </i>or something?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But no. Nathan was just a normal baby who cried and stunk like poo all the time.<br />
<br />
Isabel spent most of her time in her tent or outside - as much as possible.<br />
<br />
But occasionally she still gave it a try to scare Sarah away ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY5RgJdzkkiLhFKzMemtA7OGfBzQQIeqhdTBvSpl5PPRZU0YySIFSAnN-PfmUxjL8aQP4ZBKFskRtlE6F0bncXl4nwYAS0GKB_BBSg8VhkHteSeFMR8tExGeH7K_p8QQRqXbTAeCgVkQO/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY5RgJdzkkiLhFKzMemtA7OGfBzQQIeqhdTBvSpl5PPRZU0YySIFSAnN-PfmUxjL8aQP4ZBKFskRtlE6F0bncXl4nwYAS0GKB_BBSg8VhkHteSeFMR8tExGeH7K_p8QQRqXbTAeCgVkQO/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"RAAAAH!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Isabel argued with Sarah any chance she could - even over taking the garbage out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVqiiSwFo-9iQyTVtS8IH05UcqZEExys1DAi4ABvELZARJ_G2xb13Igwp5Uer4EurDFQl0ctsbMUJUfhyphenhyphenPw4h00fn-ls7urTfL38l1sW8pgG2jjVgXQ6caaTaVJA4Aqg_ljSJi-uzoCag/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVqiiSwFo-9iQyTVtS8IH05UcqZEExys1DAi4ABvELZARJ_G2xb13Igwp5Uer4EurDFQl0ctsbMUJUfhyphenhyphenPw4h00fn-ls7urTfL38l1sW8pgG2jjVgXQ6caaTaVJA4Aqg_ljSJi-uzoCag/s640/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It stinks like nasty baby diapers!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But it was Sarah's beautiful, sweet horse Moonshadow who had the ability to calm Isabel down and bring one thing in common between Sarah and angry little Isabel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07lck2ZkiiLamatcgKR_K-f96r4ve3DYRsluDuZWRxe1YIfXG3yw7695AUQ-JJt6Cql-YHOyNJ3WIRzqF1XoM0gGWRZiBMObdK9nmo58qiaoqf4lFnGUkqK7TFI4qrFwcVm89A8A2697I/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07lck2ZkiiLamatcgKR_K-f96r4ve3DYRsluDuZWRxe1YIfXG3yw7695AUQ-JJt6Cql-YHOyNJ3WIRzqF1XoM0gGWRZiBMObdK9nmo58qiaoqf4lFnGUkqK7TFI4qrFwcVm89A8A2697I/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oooo she's so pretty, can I pet her?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was Simon who finally had to have 'the talk' with Isabel over a well deserved win at the chess table.<br />
<br />
He gently and persistently reminded Isabel that because he loved Sarah, and married her, it was important to him that Isabel give her a chance and stop misbehaving so much. He asked her to do it <i>for him</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPxYmUmCubvSwBShNgGUG7VJy2wrM9HGCHP58BgywW41dK1NHEg9IsjxZlRCTo7hq4psh1lPEdwO9GUU8o5AP2vnnE6lJUbT-TkWgjms5UfH8ET709BXKuXzVcZYrNQbUq8b9CXCBCTTL/s1600/Screenshot-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPxYmUmCubvSwBShNgGUG7VJy2wrM9HGCHP58BgywW41dK1NHEg9IsjxZlRCTo7hq4psh1lPEdwO9GUU8o5AP2vnnE6lJUbT-TkWgjms5UfH8ET709BXKuXzVcZYrNQbUq8b9CXCBCTTL/s640/Screenshot-51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh - well played checkmate Isabel. Now please be as good as you are smart for me, deal?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel wanted most of all to please her Dad, and so she agreed to let up on Sarah. Simon was sure to spend extra time with her so she had no lingering resentments. The best time of all was when Dad read her bedtime stories. Ever since she was a baby, fantasy adventure tales had been her favorites!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqnBIEyOXsQyXBDKcrjjOmsg9QzBjImZpq4FS2UuKk3yxWLv8wKom93iIqMpFkp3D2m6rmmu-k7XWKXmw-lvIsiwuWsMmSd6coNGYEQHXOc7VHQJcAz_ZUwCnsvstp6WhyDUXsSmM1U08x/s1600/Screenshot-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqnBIEyOXsQyXBDKcrjjOmsg9QzBjImZpq4FS2UuKk3yxWLv8wKom93iIqMpFkp3D2m6rmmu-k7XWKXmw-lvIsiwuWsMmSd6coNGYEQHXOc7VHQJcAz_ZUwCnsvstp6WhyDUXsSmM1U08x/s640/Screenshot-61.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
"<i style="border: 0px; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;">The Road goes ever on and on<br />Down from the door where it began.<br />Now far ahead the Road has gone,<br />And I must follow, if I can,<br />Pursuing it with weary feet,<br />Until it joins some larger way,<br />Where many paths and errands meet.<br />And whither then? I cannot say."</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And tomorrow, sweet Isabel, you embark upon a new journey too. Your birthday has come.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuB2kFZe32Pg7KUg9JzsFj1RwvzZtY-zujUtQeyZp9c5eJUsGkXho2QTHzGUgSOg_JDeegKcCKdqLECBpx4uusztNiJLdgvbKg48dBjjDpo0tpYOJ7Xkw-k4igK_R3qIkTfFGiw4Ixrws/s1600/Screenshot-67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuB2kFZe32Pg7KUg9JzsFj1RwvzZtY-zujUtQeyZp9c5eJUsGkXho2QTHzGUgSOg_JDeegKcCKdqLECBpx4uusztNiJLdgvbKg48dBjjDpo0tpYOJ7Xkw-k4igK_R3qIkTfFGiw4Ixrws/s640/Screenshot-67.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Good night dear Isabel. Sweet Dreams"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The next morning, it was her best friend who woke her to face this new adventure.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrwGEcWXrw2z7X6gdnMikroM9qJ-uBR1bA5baLnchuEFm4f2JLV7Mq238haUQw7fiEBwLAO_08g1YGT9TWGbdDit_3_1HZV9CYZrsn8zwzr2V5H6N7Ne-CLtqkCS80kAkaLCuPiP9xLK2/s1600/Screenshot-77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrwGEcWXrw2z7X6gdnMikroM9qJ-uBR1bA5baLnchuEFm4f2JLV7Mq238haUQw7fiEBwLAO_08g1YGT9TWGbdDit_3_1HZV9CYZrsn8zwzr2V5H6N7Ne-CLtqkCS80kAkaLCuPiP9xLK2/s640/Screenshot-77.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Cupid, why are you waking me up so early on a Saturday?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Rise and shine birthday girl.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlAeQfppbyhJ6VB9jEQCjwHzYwrhvIlDsKgf6h_gxFWgty6VLXMqAcHiA-C5J62MvHrfYUjJKFKj7pL-QP97Q2XeoYuMGGInURtxoOU-nC4RUugEL-ZxVKVNioGcco-uOJ1YG12oeSGkF/s1600/Screenshot-79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlAeQfppbyhJ6VB9jEQCjwHzYwrhvIlDsKgf6h_gxFWgty6VLXMqAcHiA-C5J62MvHrfYUjJKFKj7pL-QP97Q2XeoYuMGGInURtxoOU-nC4RUugEL-ZxVKVNioGcco-uOJ1YG12oeSGkF/s640/Screenshot-79.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh, its my birthday today!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel takes a minute to reassure Cupid that he's still her number one best friend forever.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66eviSBB5Q1v-Fu4uzZcQd56e0wgB6PUPFDHnmLsBeNVNJLjKpQSqVYKd-_psCC3fWvfT6Mkan9LeD1IAVhqBbmLSIHPbYuHNxY0t-a4ruPTi8RvaQwCZ2H3SRrHJ3H9GMK2Ux-J1_z4k/s1600/Screenshot-81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66eviSBB5Q1v-Fu4uzZcQd56e0wgB6PUPFDHnmLsBeNVNJLjKpQSqVYKd-_psCC3fWvfT6Mkan9LeD1IAVhqBbmLSIHPbYuHNxY0t-a4ruPTi8RvaQwCZ2H3SRrHJ3H9GMK2Ux-J1_z4k/s640/Screenshot-81.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't worry boy, I'm not going to leave you behind!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But then, bad news had to go and ruin her birthday party anyways.<br />
<br />
Sarah's sister Stacy showed up to let her know that their Mother had passed away in the night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQ8WAoIW_sKovqjD889iKPf2iRrnDGObsx1FcoW-hcVl70YsZ8YXpCfMrzJWgYlJGqIl-zqY5z6PmWSv_EQL0A59W18ze3QVS6RfxPk4O0tiCNLqMWoAk6WD3o-t0spQaSQ5wy7WB01sg/s1600/Screenshot-84.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQ8WAoIW_sKovqjD889iKPf2iRrnDGObsx1FcoW-hcVl70YsZ8YXpCfMrzJWgYlJGqIl-zqY5z6PmWSv_EQL0A59W18ze3QVS6RfxPk4O0tiCNLqMWoAk6WD3o-t0spQaSQ5wy7WB01sg/s640/Screenshot-84.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel overheard the news and suddenly felt pretty bad for Sarah.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They went on with the party as Sarah left to be with her family.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQNHjiqOXgcRJdE12DV9fn5W0GCU8Uz7nx-8eoo8PxoKsPcD3dacQOHbgP5BJlWgfdzpiUlWMRwiztciTQGpdK3rjAb5dHEBCTjA192A_AFCTyEEjYvJPIRE-H7FL0J5fmt-gcTWbJW31/s1600/Screenshot-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQNHjiqOXgcRJdE12DV9fn5W0GCU8Uz7nx-8eoo8PxoKsPcD3dacQOHbgP5BJlWgfdzpiUlWMRwiztciTQGpdK3rjAb5dHEBCTjA192A_AFCTyEEjYvJPIRE-H7FL0J5fmt-gcTWbJW31/s640/Screenshot-90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I wish Katie Lanson would never wear those horrible red shoes with a purple shirt ever again."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And once again that funny tickle thing happened.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeQrtPzft1jiN0fEf7q47lJ27V-dK-vo6zjJHD62KqT7ZZdjKLKQP8NNaMRdUcyQEmbTGciJym5dpNY3cVAxhqgHvYDrqZ5ZzDmgrwHWZzX-B98S_vwJ1K4MSKVcYsnaouJQJ5NUAdmDY/s1600/Screenshot-96.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeQrtPzft1jiN0fEf7q47lJ27V-dK-vo6zjJHD62KqT7ZZdjKLKQP8NNaMRdUcyQEmbTGciJym5dpNY3cVAxhqgHvYDrqZ5ZzDmgrwHWZzX-B98S_vwJ1K4MSKVcYsnaouJQJ5NUAdmDY/s640/Screenshot-96.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wooooah!! ...."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And Isabel Twist became a rather unusual looking teenage girl. Her Dad says she favors the petite features of his family's side but with her Mom's pretty coloring. Her school mates at the party just call her "Dizzy Izzy" - who knows why?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQxljxa_9UxV7DQBeaXhZQR0VYm-woLjqPGycNMmxbUxqnVTKcnI2Wn66oNt8Sxbl0tVxw1K0eyiLLH4irTebLO_-FxOzlZxfV6zT_RPLRCQos3oAGdPu8aZ3Q13_UJnEzTvoQS_DxRDa/s1600/Screenshot-107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQxljxa_9UxV7DQBeaXhZQR0VYm-woLjqPGycNMmxbUxqnVTKcnI2Wn66oNt8Sxbl0tVxw1K0eyiLLH4irTebLO_-FxOzlZxfV6zT_RPLRCQos3oAGdPu8aZ3Q13_UJnEzTvoQS_DxRDa/s640/Screenshot-107.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel the awkward teenager.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well at least one person who came to the party had something nice to say.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
At least, painfully shy Isabel thought it must be a compliment.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjbWrIeiLgL7OqoVi76VPojighSPJo16Bm2Ga_ZZpS5QTFEYKSJNK7LiLytW0AP4xYMFA9Zu0ovkKLIjbvbWVqvMqw2YgZPAPICvVdBefkrV9KYkH8hpV0EaVGd2_-2gXAyOG2JJVBCsN/s1600/Screenshot-109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjbWrIeiLgL7OqoVi76VPojighSPJo16Bm2Ga_ZZpS5QTFEYKSJNK7LiLytW0AP4xYMFA9Zu0ovkKLIjbvbWVqvMqw2YgZPAPICvVdBefkrV9KYkH8hpV0EaVGd2_-2gXAyOG2JJVBCsN/s640/Screenshot-109.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hi Isabel, thank you for inviting me to your party. I think you're as pretty as a fairy"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Isabel gained the "Adventurous" trait for being an honor student all through school. As if there was any doubt in anyone's mind. =)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Tune in next time for more <i>"Adventures of Dizzy Izzy"</i></div>
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<b>Go <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/118-teen-troubles.html">HERE</a> for Ch. 1.18 - "Teen Troubles"</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-43649276015694928962012-10-03T19:09:00.001-07:002012-10-11T20:09:37.364-07:001.16 - A Second Chance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Isabel's excited to show her work to her Dad. The next day, he comes outside to look at her amazing dinosaur reconstruction. He's <i>really </i>impressed, and asks Isabel if she wants to start doing some work at his lab with him.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You can imagine how happy that makes Isabel!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9z60WQ0IbrgaiNETlEXIvUOR4KLefyhKgr0Zn3b3V7seM2qDeigLJRgDHWLNihCyMnkG6mmQCG7WLNWeWb9CF0jD-LpD2r0ft7Wis19FquIfztbGoaareVOZSQqEpQtU2PrjhNgdduARd/s1600/Screenshot-46+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9z60WQ0IbrgaiNETlEXIvUOR4KLefyhKgr0Zn3b3V7seM2qDeigLJRgDHWLNihCyMnkG6mmQCG7WLNWeWb9CF0jD-LpD2r0ft7Wis19FquIfztbGoaareVOZSQqEpQtU2PrjhNgdduARd/s640/Screenshot-46+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A future budding Paleontologist?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Appaloosa Plains once housed a large number of scientists for the dig site of ancient fossilized remains.<br />
But now most of the remains had been removed to museums. Isabel had managed to revive a little of that excitement. Her impressive talent earned her a place among the prestigious <b>geek </b>ranks at Dad's Lab.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLyyd_WzQHfNcGllqHkGovPVXh2SE-BS47YkUluDrLNmFuVRt4FXaLTTkK9RPVwdIypL2hVzFpPmHT7GoUjMWVE7_TDQPNTuIib6xD12xVUu3Q40gl1t1ZcBGv4MeosvOrcQxsx36kLdn/s1600/Screenshot-41+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLyyd_WzQHfNcGllqHkGovPVXh2SE-BS47YkUluDrLNmFuVRt4FXaLTTkK9RPVwdIypL2hVzFpPmHT7GoUjMWVE7_TDQPNTuIib6xD12xVUu3Q40gl1t1ZcBGv4MeosvOrcQxsx36kLdn/s640/Screenshot-41+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your daughter has a very rare talent and we'd love to offer her a full scholarship when she graduates."<br />
(That's Simon's boss Kenji)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel <i>loved</i> going to work with Dad. Her teachers even let her out early every day so she could spend part of her day studying at the science center. Her grades and performance were perfect and she had been on the honor roll three straight semesters running.<br />
<br />
It was here, spending hours digging through the old science archives, that Isabel began to formulate her future.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97Yht6fACRO-bw9yen-bp7aMdGJbcYl_CFre1mhUvZy-KcTBYpesQGBDSCgFsV-0toH0zwcmkQcDzlgv2NMOu0rapKt117CnEypv8d3-VNP_mcVR1WWx6IAnWXinCaGuprpaV2x6m43IH/s1600/Screenshot-74.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97Yht6fACRO-bw9yen-bp7aMdGJbcYl_CFre1mhUvZy-KcTBYpesQGBDSCgFsV-0toH0zwcmkQcDzlgv2NMOu0rapKt117CnEypv8d3-VNP_mcVR1WWx6IAnWXinCaGuprpaV2x6m43IH/s640/Screenshot-74.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"William Bedlington, first Archaeology Specialist for Morcucorp Acquisitions Dept."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And when her Dad began to spend a LOT of time talking to<i> that woman</i> and visiting her, Isabel used the lab computers to learn some other tricks too. Isabel overheard Simon inviting Sarah over to spend an evening at the lab with them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk4a5xKyjwX8uWGeUa-0bS20DT1SlhRLVKZVGY2b7ujZnuf7FLBQ7mH0NXw1OK-vNYQGCxVAOWKOZgkSzuiI8bzR2_-UM7oQPCMvKCqERoK090ZhUcSbvNFnZsF6dgdwUShIBij_bt4h2/s1600/Screenshot-89.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk4a5xKyjwX8uWGeUa-0bS20DT1SlhRLVKZVGY2b7ujZnuf7FLBQ7mH0NXw1OK-vNYQGCxVAOWKOZgkSzuiI8bzR2_-UM7oQPCMvKCqERoK090ZhUcSbvNFnZsF6dgdwUShIBij_bt4h2/s640/Screenshot-89.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Of course you can come hang out with us here, we'd love your company, darling!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Isabel has <b>other </b>ideas.</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuErDXTAcKRV5kV33-twIs7JlfJsJTqwU73su7rLmgZv9xGooffu91xIZacTekgRHiavOV2spDl9V22tAH8gnhdefeWQcEE8jUIzQ5fTbMHYmFblE2LMIlgBMfnDBhOoFoJigbh_EOacD9/s1600/Screenshot-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuErDXTAcKRV5kV33-twIs7JlfJsJTqwU73su7rLmgZv9xGooffu91xIZacTekgRHiavOV2spDl9V22tAH8gnhdefeWQcEE8jUIzQ5fTbMHYmFblE2LMIlgBMfnDBhOoFoJigbh_EOacD9/s640/Screenshot-75.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><insert evil laughter here></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She dabbles a bit with the chemistry table.<br />
<br />
This is probably something Simon should be giving somewhat more supervision on, but he's typically lax as ever with Isabel, and busy messing with fish in the aquarium.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9GynXrq_ZpTiKIFA_h5ELCE6Iq8Sjnb0_iG5JA2lQHJLkFAVz0zMhZYqSQiXAq-rPCX1hb-eaO2jTTl9X5QocIj_7n6Mkfg2avvM2SjlTn4oTneo_4WJjJQ7zqaAM1BioHpcRx2kiy1V/s1600/Screenshot-85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9GynXrq_ZpTiKIFA_h5ELCE6Iq8Sjnb0_iG5JA2lQHJLkFAVz0zMhZYqSQiXAq-rPCX1hb-eaO2jTTl9X5QocIj_7n6Mkfg2avvM2SjlTn4oTneo_4WJjJQ7zqaAM1BioHpcRx2kiy1V/s640/Screenshot-85.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Despite their name, not all catfish have prominent barbels ... <b>OWW</b>! Ok, <i>this one does</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And the perfect potion has been mixed ...<br />
<br />
"<b>Liquid Horror</b>"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcyN6DX6bgSocZsCVIR4SkJMqz-SInfFnS6AaQdenZxIpcGt8N0z9_0wx6p01t3O1UjBmYrsq2imJLRZQgkBG3s1GRnnzFl4Eeolpj7hswJVN1-75VuaaxJA4zYUJMnHkHxN9cYY3hthq/s1600/Screenshot-87.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcyN6DX6bgSocZsCVIR4SkJMqz-SInfFnS6AaQdenZxIpcGt8N0z9_0wx6p01t3O1UjBmYrsq2imJLRZQgkBG3s1GRnnzFl4Eeolpj7hswJVN1-75VuaaxJA4zYUJMnHkHxN9cYY3hthq/s640/Screenshot-87.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><insert more evil laughter here></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's not <i>really </i>evil, she's just too damn smart for her own good. She figures she can <b><i>scare </i></b>Dad's girlfriend away one way or another.<br />
<br />
But the unintended victim of her computer prank ended up being Dad when he tried to check his bank balance.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkMYVRsf1i94cmi4btClAf9efAD77XDjj64RR9Ay_Mf-z6bPcXFh8cQVyKAIHznTFntrcHo34Rvot9HD9YOcezUIUHs1hBmrC2hg0lx4gj8sIr_s108RrqAF0KrElGKGK31rrc6wf2KCo/s1600/Screenshot-104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkMYVRsf1i94cmi4btClAf9efAD77XDjj64RR9Ay_Mf-z6bPcXFh8cQVyKAIHznTFntrcHo34Rvot9HD9YOcezUIUHs1hBmrC2hg0lx4gj8sIr_s108RrqAF0KrElGKGK31rrc6wf2KCo/s640/Screenshot-104.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Aaaaagh! ... Isabel!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And lamo-girlfriend never even showed up, complaining of a "headache" ... so Isabel decided to save the potion for later use.<br />
<br />
But try as she might, nothing she did could convince Dad away from his new girlfriend. In fact, just when Simon was about to reassure Isabel that he was only dating Sarah casually, things took a turn for the worse in Isabel's opinion.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9-fkECoeRw6MQbE_EFA_WAx1PkonAW539zjaQFwGzzfCRQAicQkksVX5Zytkk81yvzHymdoYCRV2X5hAgftACrb1n3Je1AVN7h4UhTVGEPmJzjCYrxBb1ZQRnoIzxXRsqHa4RZ-tr-9S/s1600/Screenshot-69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9-fkECoeRw6MQbE_EFA_WAx1PkonAW539zjaQFwGzzfCRQAicQkksVX5Zytkk81yvzHymdoYCRV2X5hAgftACrb1n3Je1AVN7h4UhTVGEPmJzjCYrxBb1ZQRnoIzxXRsqHa4RZ-tr-9S/s640/Screenshot-69.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon yelling: "Sarah, lets go, we're going to be late for our dinner reservation!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yeah, things were about to get complicated.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJOOvTN0sCYLpimv4AOlMfWBPQcjgKc5XpNjOEF28p1_Cg6mb-g6Gd1JInvRxJ6VRo8SshaaTqBbeiXfcLpFbMbp1ofEMTwp5rU0vI920sKaKtboSyGXNa2YRndkuWD5GB1C3F31T1Ax7/s1600/Screenshot-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJOOvTN0sCYLpimv4AOlMfWBPQcjgKc5XpNjOEF28p1_Cg6mb-g6Gd1JInvRxJ6VRo8SshaaTqBbeiXfcLpFbMbp1ofEMTwp5rU0vI920sKaKtboSyGXNa2YRndkuWD5GB1C3F31T1Ax7/s640/Screenshot-65.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Simon, I know this is crazy, but ... I'm pregnant."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon was just getting used to the idea of being in love again after such a terrible heartbreak with his ex-wife. He considered himself years away from re-marriage, let alone having another child.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfOckuyqv7qBtUmHFn7Xq88x0ITaN6MMbE45Kk0pTdI0_6SmQ8EN4m-CnVW8f0_YH9EnWMMVBN5_RA5lz9D_X5IZKC7kLcxTIZX7HdqX-fLRapkd3HxfsaYRlI777HirndU4qw2f5uCsh/s1600/Screenshot-66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfOckuyqv7qBtUmHFn7Xq88x0ITaN6MMbE45Kk0pTdI0_6SmQ8EN4m-CnVW8f0_YH9EnWMMVBN5_RA5lz9D_X5IZKC7kLcxTIZX7HdqX-fLRapkd3HxfsaYRlI777HirndU4qw2f5uCsh/s640/Screenshot-66.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rather awkward moment.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But to his credit, Simon has learned a tough lesson from his failed first marriage. He's not going to let this woman down, and he's going to do the right thing. He just needs some time to think and figure this out.<br />
<br />
Like his daughter, Simon thinks best when surrounded by his work down in the underground lab.<br />
<br />
He faces his fears.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUiHmPjmDmevGebZF2xUhzXNprIm8jloOmPdXWsIw7wFRqui8bW2UFti_a-wF1YufGVGmyPXJSqv21y2UDv1uTJdu4194nck_3ULqJCWWRyFj5NQOfo7wtQ3n0_zjW6-Jj8Am2b9uchLF/s1600/Screenshot-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUiHmPjmDmevGebZF2xUhzXNprIm8jloOmPdXWsIw7wFRqui8bW2UFti_a-wF1YufGVGmyPXJSqv21y2UDv1uTJdu4194nck_3ULqJCWWRyFj5NQOfo7wtQ3n0_zjW6-Jj8Am2b9uchLF/s640/Screenshot-100.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Simon you old fool, you're about to hit your middle years. Time to get your life in order."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And he realizes he's ready to stop being so paranoid about money all the time. His position was moving towards senior scientist and he had a good retirement fund.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADLq1xfsUiZ5LtjeY7W_QixLnBsYgqZnZ33ogcAqndAFTLSfxgpxQdY_TNiyTxtSGe5V6KeQClAi9gasfn9BrLx5-C3KUEnSCloeNJLHZN6oDw5QVlF4PmKD2S8BQ7imw06SLQZBvgcp6/s1600/Screenshot-101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADLq1xfsUiZ5LtjeY7W_QixLnBsYgqZnZ33ogcAqndAFTLSfxgpxQdY_TNiyTxtSGe5V6KeQClAi9gasfn9BrLx5-C3KUEnSCloeNJLHZN6oDw5QVlF4PmKD2S8BQ7imw06SLQZBvgcp6/s640/Screenshot-101.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm <i>not </i>going to worry about the simoleons anymore!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He was ready to embrace the hand he was being dealt and be a family man. He had fallen in love with Sarah, of this he was sure. And more importantly, she needed him. She was carrying his child and as much as he loved Isabel, he knew he would love another little one too.<br />
<br />
And so it was easy the next day to head out to the Equestrian Center where Sarah worked as a stable hand to let her know his decision.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWQH5yvqNjmLwOFQFEnFOdvmKWa6m6qLkvHr0P4G3yqTjM0J6Yy4imZ36HSnnar8-eUTT2J-eCj-S_3XWl9xoERTbCSs7Ek8GFTCE2WpEyiBB6D9n3Nb89oTh1uPyRh-UhyVO4ZzcX_tn/s1600/Screenshot-114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWQH5yvqNjmLwOFQFEnFOdvmKWa6m6qLkvHr0P4G3yqTjM0J6Yy4imZ36HSnnar8-eUTT2J-eCj-S_3XWl9xoERTbCSs7Ek8GFTCE2WpEyiBB6D9n3Nb89oTh1uPyRh-UhyVO4ZzcX_tn/s640/Screenshot-114.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being a dignified professional horsewoman is impossible when you waddle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sarah was frightened when Simon showed up. She thought she would end up dumped and a single Mom like her sister Stacy had just went through - a complete embarrassment to her prestigious family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhefJmUaQZjHg-pTuQCwHgEd3MJufWD1ptbFKwha_r8N4_hgVvGdGN_cMbMCed75EgCjtQicQDgBmHLonFA7naGbv2C9DL8Jb8a1WoZyvmx3_zNv9_uPwNVmnjh2R9ceb9usDHPW6JrD769/s1600/Screenshot-126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhefJmUaQZjHg-pTuQCwHgEd3MJufWD1ptbFKwha_r8N4_hgVvGdGN_cMbMCed75EgCjtQicQDgBmHLonFA7naGbv2C9DL8Jb8a1WoZyvmx3_zNv9_uPwNVmnjh2R9ceb9usDHPW6JrD769/s640/Screenshot-126.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sarah, don't turn away. I'm not going to hurt you like your family has done ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon lets Sarah know he very much wants to have a child with her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriSDO1rJFM90JUKcqEejFO-Ar5A1g6gdnTMgpd_UC5w7zT115mOJPPjCMTpyCxamZBPe7oMQkI9Rxv-a6-_KnfOY3W0x1GBQfzzlSipmvSwgwloy5nr1uUlKtwt07RsJGAMXE6xnsjv7k/s1600/Screenshot-130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriSDO1rJFM90JUKcqEejFO-Ar5A1g6gdnTMgpd_UC5w7zT115mOJPPjCMTpyCxamZBPe7oMQkI9Rxv-a6-_KnfOY3W0x1GBQfzzlSipmvSwgwloy5nr1uUlKtwt07RsJGAMXE6xnsjv7k/s640/Screenshot-130.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Another little <i>Twist Genius</i> in the making!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And right there on the spot he proposes to Sarah. They'd only been together a short time, and Sarah can't believe it, but she's so relieved and so happy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qZ5dY1rtq_3VbRmZCBgBhAtUlgp56nos9ntAkoBcRL9Hg29muRFL583m708ShELIxiGNZ82xH30NyXJ2EKn9h8nSXT5z-aF1KSLFeat59ee-fhpQxYVCDukQz1qxONH78YGNpr3OkWdC/s1600/Screenshot-128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qZ5dY1rtq_3VbRmZCBgBhAtUlgp56nos9ntAkoBcRL9Hg29muRFL583m708ShELIxiGNZ82xH30NyXJ2EKn9h8nSXT5z-aF1KSLFeat59ee-fhpQxYVCDukQz1qxONH78YGNpr3OkWdC/s640/Screenshot-128.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh Simon! Thank you for making me the happiest woman on the Sim Planet!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Other parties, however, are <i>not </i>quite as thrilled with the news.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkB-U96rK5ZG8Bpjy7v06paJ-UGlHmSulefkN1cfLumNIdqZX7gVG6hGatjNPn9qYw7YF8eyRYB4Akcm32jghFKPsVn-xM_dnBAuYwihKG0aoxt4KN3Kj5_C8m4sMtdOCySeBNpYNiqmj/s1600/Screenshot-110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkB-U96rK5ZG8Bpjy7v06paJ-UGlHmSulefkN1cfLumNIdqZX7gVG6hGatjNPn9qYw7YF8eyRYB4Akcm32jghFKPsVn-xM_dnBAuYwihKG0aoxt4KN3Kj5_C8m4sMtdOCySeBNpYNiqmj/s640/Screenshot-110.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Getting married... having a <b>BABY</b>?! Dad are you trying to ruin my entire life!?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Read <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/117-growing-pains.html">HERE </a> for Ch. 1.17 - "Growing Pains"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-60424167760480680342012-10-03T19:08:00.001-07:002012-10-03T19:27:26.922-07:001.15 - Mothers and MonstersSimon had not expected to meet someone so soon after he and Emma had divorced. It had only been six months, and Isabel was just settling in and finishing up her first school year. The school was putting her in a special program for 'gifted' students and her work took up a lot of Simon's free time helping her study.<br />
<br />
They went for ice cream one afternoon to relax. Simon sent Isabel inside to pick out her favorite flavor when he heard a commotion over near the performance stage. Some crazy old lady was waving her cane at a dark haired woman and making a big embarrassing commotion.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6MsSHkfIvXMXgeHTNtDa-eINZFMAviZmai0GGs0kWF1hChCDfweGqT_5RdvQpK8wpziEyTwqZDgL471OHz8moq5RNtwFQ7yOFu0lNJQgYCrODAxF9Ot3U6OB0zipHCLVWtNot6LOwLDrF/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6MsSHkfIvXMXgeHTNtDa-eINZFMAviZmai0GGs0kWF1hChCDfweGqT_5RdvQpK8wpziEyTwqZDgL471OHz8moq5RNtwFQ7yOFu0lNJQgYCrODAxF9Ot3U6OB0zipHCLVWtNot6LOwLDrF/s640/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm not gonna have <b>my </b>daughter livin' in some shack! Our family has a <i>reputation</i> in this town!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon's not normally the type to interfere, but something about this poor woman's face made him feel like he was watching a helpless animal being mistreated ... and Simon does not like that.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomYoLO7OX-uQDuSRLOvb1OkVjRx-4jom4HvQrBlmL1K86LAJ-sfZmVsOIEcdkxuKbKXyiL6Vt3JX9Zz2JN1lfS5oqZrlhMl12IUme0cdu3YB51oBt7q1EzcdqwSvlyQ5jIlklSz1uRfHC/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomYoLO7OX-uQDuSRLOvb1OkVjRx-4jom4HvQrBlmL1K86LAJ-sfZmVsOIEcdkxuKbKXyiL6Vt3JX9Zz2JN1lfS5oqZrlhMl12IUme0cdu3YB51oBt7q1EzcdqwSvlyQ5jIlklSz1uRfHC/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mom please, everyone's listening. If you care about reputation, don't make a scene!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Simon decides to intervene. Maybe its none of his business, but he feels like rescuing a fair lady in distress is the right thing to do. He goes over and interrupts the argument, asking the younger woman if she has seen his dog ... making up some story about how he had followed her here to the diner earlier today.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The trick worked. The distraction was just enough to get the old woman to back off and stop yelling.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyJewc12oJjT4X5QuyNeoxYZaZi1wAil9KaJRVFz3XCjXR_j4Hi4tVOFhnVNRuPleOh7CLGt9t5sbHguIRdGnyM5PLW6ZZ9nJHsaINXNWrMerbJYbPSR10TY2x_Gn_tHmaSBLAvg76lQH/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyJewc12oJjT4X5QuyNeoxYZaZi1wAil9KaJRVFz3XCjXR_j4Hi4tVOFhnVNRuPleOh7CLGt9t5sbHguIRdGnyM5PLW6ZZ9nJHsaINXNWrMerbJYbPSR10TY2x_Gn_tHmaSBLAvg76lQH/s640/Screenshot-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My dog, Cupid, he looks like a dark brown wolf, have you seen him?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sarah is so grateful for Simon's interference, she introduces herself, then excitedly listens and even agrees with some of Simon's conspiracy theory discussion once her Mother has given up and left.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They end up talking for quite a while before Simon apologizes and excuses himself to be with Isabel, but asks Sarah if he can call her later. She happily gives him her number.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvgl4IB0sZjIPPPJpsQg6LFWRsvMasvF2qu27kOZ_kOg9EQnpe-PTF8ql1JypbDSa6pJBxE7hWp5F-yI-Bn7bofJDXa2tDiCIcBx_2pH5dT_ZzDbDKOcGQo5xp23T5rUQ9eStZofKaNdI/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvgl4IB0sZjIPPPJpsQg6LFWRsvMasvF2qu27kOZ_kOg9EQnpe-PTF8ql1JypbDSa6pJBxE7hWp5F-yI-Bn7bofJDXa2tDiCIcBx_2pH5dT_ZzDbDKOcGQo5xp23T5rUQ9eStZofKaNdI/s640/Screenshot-18.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The world is full of crazy things (and people like my Mother). I'd love to talk more sometime!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And just like that, Simon's got a date. He's not sure if he's ready for that, but fate seemed to think it was the time and something about Sarah felt right to him.<br />
<br />
Not surprisingly, Isabel isn't very enthusiastic about Sarah. Simon decides it would be best to stick to adult dating and not try to include Isabel with someone new that he doesn't even know yet.<br />
<br />
Isabel's busy with her own issues and doesn't really give the woman much thought anyways. Making friends has been tough on Isabel at school. Being <i>'gifted'</i> is just as bad as being "retarded" when you're a new kid in school. Kids can be so cruel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivo_W4uQJtWyAjV6CXIzXepbJhoP_bGtLBexXVQ2LrOXXwxiW_g4hY5gxsocXac6gwGGQF4OoA2jjOU7NzA__oDyoT9GIA8KWJYkkUEeoEe_TzNHh7nffhKGPlm-FEMm7a2brW8Sv7Lb9a/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivo_W4uQJtWyAjV6CXIzXepbJhoP_bGtLBexXVQ2LrOXXwxiW_g4hY5gxsocXac6gwGGQF4OoA2jjOU7NzA__oDyoT9GIA8KWJYkkUEeoEe_TzNHh7nffhKGPlm-FEMm7a2brW8Sv7Lb9a/s640/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"She must be stuck up since she never talks to anyone ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel invites her neighbor Malina over to hang out after school. They have absolutely nothing in common and just like everyone else, she seems to misunderstand Isabel entirely.<br />
<br />
Malina is a couch potato. Going to someone's house with no television, and not even a <i>couch </i>is boring!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpW-7WtwcfMG561nLrxK-GG5aT9XeqHtag3FJdOtvISX_I9gceNISnoAobMYoqedWSVm-3to6WCYjQIFJ3MHfApvlhfBbSEOD5gaTLDWd-olkhqS-TA9e_RRSFXYhOn-sxBgWOXyKbiNyc/s1600/Screenshot-6+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpW-7WtwcfMG561nLrxK-GG5aT9XeqHtag3FJdOtvISX_I9gceNISnoAobMYoqedWSVm-3to6WCYjQIFJ3MHfApvlhfBbSEOD5gaTLDWd-olkhqS-TA9e_RRSFXYhOn-sxBgWOXyKbiNyc/s640/Screenshot-6+(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Uh, yeah. I think I gotta go home now ... I'm missing the new episode of <b>'Sims Gone Wild'</b>."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Even Bethany Barnes, the nicest girl in school, whose Mom was best friends with Isabel's Mom doesn't quite 'get' Isabel's intelligence.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxytNPnfZE_mNUD7r_0q-1Zqj23kN30LNpcgtwd_wgjG955kbauaKHbPjhM08KWawKDB9QaC3XPF-8nK0zdnG3wJBh-D09TxzIERzPJfRw0wpgzbhLGTqAN95dgGLQRS9TrfZvIUA7NEii/s1600/Screenshot-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxytNPnfZE_mNUD7r_0q-1Zqj23kN30LNpcgtwd_wgjG955kbauaKHbPjhM08KWawKDB9QaC3XPF-8nK0zdnG3wJBh-D09TxzIERzPJfRw0wpgzbhLGTqAN95dgGLQRS9TrfZvIUA7NEii/s640/Screenshot-32.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't you wanna try on some of my Mom's makeup or do our hair together?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's not as if Isabel <i>means </i>to be stuck up or boring, she just doesn't relate to other girls her age.<br />
<br />
And so, inevitably, she ends up spending most of her time hanging out with Cupid, who never cares if she's popular, or pretty or wearing the fanciest brand of shoes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhXH4l8b0EqsqraYZMSpv-Vp1-ehr73OF1U569HcI-elcVgmWG6W3E1GMZjJr8fN4DY-Gf5IU_WQaQ9Ng5q6S74QkjjTWl-wDYIDTaBsKWE4buu5hCM8esfwcgMtOBWCKTJ7BENK7KG3U/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhXH4l8b0EqsqraYZMSpv-Vp1-ehr73OF1U569HcI-elcVgmWG6W3E1GMZjJr8fN4DY-Gf5IU_WQaQ9Ng5q6S74QkjjTWl-wDYIDTaBsKWE4buu5hCM8esfwcgMtOBWCKTJ7BENK7KG3U/s640/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Cupid, you are kicking dirt onto me ... Ooh is that another bone for our collection?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When Isabel isn't outside wandering the countryside looking for more collectibles with Cupid, she's usually at the library - because they have books and <i>computers</i>. Her Dad won't buy her a computer (he's cheap), so she plays chess against people online at the library.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPuEmXDJ8_bAEQ2IFIpYMzUyTYpLyFW_y5kHKRCUXSCU4l3JI-cEZBOCp8-nyJnQXcBuVjx0QP58QkqyoA0Ll3QTcOzcr5OJoq0HcPW51hiuoTtaBv322AOefWuT1dB3KJ32h1LFVmooi/s1600/Screenshot-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPuEmXDJ8_bAEQ2IFIpYMzUyTYpLyFW_y5kHKRCUXSCU4l3JI-cEZBOCp8-nyJnQXcBuVjx0QP58QkqyoA0Ll3QTcOzcr5OJoq0HcPW51hiuoTtaBv322AOefWuT1dB3KJ32h1LFVmooi/s640/Screenshot-25.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Eat my Queen pwnz07! Check ... and Mate!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Friday after work, Simon has his first date with Sarah. He's anxious about leaving Isabel alone with Cupid, but she assures him she'll be fine. Eating ice cream out of the freezer and spending all evening playing in the sprinkler is <u>just</u> what she had in mind anyways!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbJcqZ8QOGD3mSepr2etzXzM2A7CGb1Yo-ayjO8KwbBPyIkgVDeAbUfzcuP5DrpkuXqM8_vwrmuXXp2fs5SrCjOcz89b7BvBSQs3aFABC11nBcqFRdFettDzqmFgiuyfCaMO0hIXUakSj/s1600/Screenshot-14+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbJcqZ8QOGD3mSepr2etzXzM2A7CGb1Yo-ayjO8KwbBPyIkgVDeAbUfzcuP5DrpkuXqM8_vwrmuXXp2fs5SrCjOcz89b7BvBSQs3aFABC11nBcqFRdFettDzqmFgiuyfCaMO0hIXUakSj/s640/Screenshot-14+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ahh... this is the life!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Of course, there's a slight moment of apprehension while checking for monsters under the bed ...</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGEWanv9qPRTCI73JkQPvK1UVjxV7QqKuGvmSIRB6PYwWg-PnppVwc4jJYJ2DBHtv-m8-rglU5GWp1kPlghqXbgs7PbLc6YaavZlI1uYu3sEWPs0itjpGDSEG2-QMeebfCswTwO3pZfJ7/s1600/Screenshot-15+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGEWanv9qPRTCI73JkQPvK1UVjxV7QqKuGvmSIRB6PYwWg-PnppVwc4jJYJ2DBHtv-m8-rglU5GWp1kPlghqXbgs7PbLc6YaavZlI1uYu3sEWPs0itjpGDSEG2-QMeebfCswTwO3pZfJ7/s640/Screenshot-15+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nope... no Monsters here!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Or ... were there?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNm-4cOonoOe2ydVfaYi5LgimCD5cgEcyQY2Tx39x7qt3-ZCKdV4QUJvRGnl61ouxiTIUWSm5YzAF4r7zUNZWb9ynOhyphenhyphen4dgth1AOfNDT6qlLxH26rm42XwvSs3CFIYnLRmnPipT4VWU4J/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNm-4cOonoOe2ydVfaYi5LgimCD5cgEcyQY2Tx39x7qt3-ZCKdV4QUJvRGnl61ouxiTIUWSm5YzAF4r7zUNZWb9ynOhyphenhyphen4dgth1AOfNDT6qlLxH26rm42XwvSs3CFIYnLRmnPipT4VWU4J/s640/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"oh ... em ... gee!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_ABxjgG1UCHgk7WqulWACojjMTmf35FpTPle2lZI05Va0qvcyP7Hn0AIUXzQ1KzmhSaFQAmGwaegTjPY4PHRbaatoJVH07A6lwv2y9n0GsD8NoRU3BfwSakyAq9Zkol3df3DNrS2xXl_/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_ABxjgG1UCHgk7WqulWACojjMTmf35FpTPle2lZI05Va0qvcyP7Hn0AIUXzQ1KzmhSaFQAmGwaegTjPY4PHRbaatoJVH07A6lwv2y9n0GsD8NoRU3BfwSakyAq9Zkol3df3DNrS2xXl_/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Get real monster, I'm not afraid of you!" *POOF* (monster vanishes)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Our fearless little adventurer has finally started to reassemble the bits and pieces of bone she has spent the past several months digging up (with Cupid's help).<br />
<br />
Tonight is the <u>BIG NIGHT</u>!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIA4-Jcb3Oq_vYvCuC_QX5WTFta3sJn-LzhGc6u64O9qu2cav0_sQ0rE58y_ddqc7-xurjkdOel0QMkw5zLNe_QToBsLC9KDdB7OSrYdQL1L70pv36qFrJ64ELg2wMIxxE97L1vE-QEy_F/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIA4-Jcb3Oq_vYvCuC_QX5WTFta3sJn-LzhGc6u64O9qu2cav0_sQ0rE58y_ddqc7-xurjkdOel0QMkw5zLNe_QToBsLC9KDdB7OSrYdQL1L70pv36qFrJ64ELg2wMIxxE97L1vE-QEy_F/s640/Screenshot-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hmm... ok... I think I have everything in the right order"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Being exceptionally smart has given Isabel the uncanny ability to 'see' the pieces going together like a puzzle.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCc42d4V5m2-TybYOW70F1wExMUoNGgLebewXANyoczxGktYDTLFU7vcdphpxEloS9jj4_9mP0MH8JXOCRiG9v9ti2ul2Pbf8FXKXp2Aidj-1kRMF5xXedgepqorMjPH-AeUh1OF3956RL/s1600/Screenshot-28+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCc42d4V5m2-TybYOW70F1wExMUoNGgLebewXANyoczxGktYDTLFU7vcdphpxEloS9jj4_9mP0MH8JXOCRiG9v9ti2ul2Pbf8FXKXp2Aidj-1kRMF5xXedgepqorMjPH-AeUh1OF3956RL/s640/Screenshot-28+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is too easy. I'm going to have to get more bits and try something more challenging."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All that practicing at chess has given Isabel's logic just the right kick for problem solving and within only an hour or two, she has her first dinosaur skeleton assembled!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVOLqQHQBjYaHxnkS701G1e3LTiAJtH01yNUikjLyOCSPH9uC5PbYrwTFgwFKV9bHCi0ndQW25wm10qkUg1P-Eyvr8sxrm_8BS4El1lJ2mDn1e1bn4QlvCfSiCVe0rOTR0EXLQwAcfdBy/s1600/Screenshot-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVOLqQHQBjYaHxnkS701G1e3LTiAJtH01yNUikjLyOCSPH9uC5PbYrwTFgwFKV9bHCi0ndQW25wm10qkUg1P-Eyvr8sxrm_8BS4El1lJ2mDn1e1bn4QlvCfSiCVe0rOTR0EXLQwAcfdBy/s640/Screenshot-34.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"YESS! A perfect specimen!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Meanwhile, after his date to a really terrible movie, Simon is invited over to Sarah's to "talk" - though he has suspicions she's got more in mind than talking as quickly as things were moving.<br />
<br />
They <i>do </i>spend a lot of time talking about their lives. Simon learns about Sarah's family. The Gilberts are a very large and wealthy family of show and racing horse ranchers in Appaloosa, but Sarah despises the shallow money-centered lifestyle they lead. It turns out she's <i>frugal </i>too! (Simon is immediately relieved)<br />
<br />
Her Mother was so angry with her the day Simon met her because Sarah had chosen to buy this really cheap little house and move out on her own instead of mooching more money off the family like the rest of her siblings.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqibnqTYOuRgnSW9VbY5R8YVGJne-AsCeCuApknA2vmmmaNb6Ib-lY7ai2Kx71pP1HhcmKI32fZ3sDkNSVreGpKroXNAMXlOoArYAdlo1mXEYS7Q_6OcMyLW3owdF8mUbi6yJFg713OtsS/s1600/Screenshot-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqibnqTYOuRgnSW9VbY5R8YVGJne-AsCeCuApknA2vmmmaNb6Ib-lY7ai2Kx71pP1HhcmKI32fZ3sDkNSVreGpKroXNAMXlOoArYAdlo1mXEYS7Q_6OcMyLW3owdF8mUbi6yJFg713OtsS/s640/Screenshot-40.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Thank you for being so understanding Simon. It's been really hard to be myself, but I feel so comfortable with you."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon's not quite sure what it is, but he feels it too. There's something relaxing and calm about being around Sarah. No big purpose or agenda. They just hang out and talk, and cuddle.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNjK6tkgSQjk-cE82PfWGJLet42rZrFIHm9QUGDJvzRM-n_nFL7YCLVOl34_pvVJ1D_LPxgl41HeCRL-tKKV0jTsH9b7cVR-VMGKMmVTIX47kGFem44jdT_AkfY0dbWrp-egHz9_SlK0w/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNjK6tkgSQjk-cE82PfWGJLet42rZrFIHm9QUGDJvzRM-n_nFL7YCLVOl34_pvVJ1D_LPxgl41HeCRL-tKKV0jTsH9b7cVR-VMGKMmVTIX47kGFem44jdT_AkfY0dbWrp-egHz9_SlK0w/s640/Screenshot-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Surprisingly, he finds himself pulling Sarah in for a kiss. Simon's not usually so forward. He never felt this way about Emma ... but something about Sarah's shy, quiet demeanor makes him feel so <i>at ease</i> - and that's not an easy thing for a neurotic person!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2WaUBpxVY9owh4Qt4FU4HjLt4p04qu7DPfLp7RsFL0PqnhtOPxXuQmDJf7ZYfQN4FftkTFz7lISIp3V6R3Z1P_dIP_DlyHp2pVdO_qdOqLVN0GX0ej-yXesYAvvg0BJafXnjCFBAPd_D/s1600/Screenshot-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2WaUBpxVY9owh4Qt4FU4HjLt4p04qu7DPfLp7RsFL0PqnhtOPxXuQmDJf7ZYfQN4FftkTFz7lISIp3V6R3Z1P_dIP_DlyHp2pVdO_qdOqLVN0GX0ej-yXesYAvvg0BJafXnjCFBAPd_D/s640/Screenshot-42.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love does not follow rules.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Usually very shy and easily overrun (especially by her family) - Sarah also finds some bravery, asking Simon to stay and sleep with her.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAEumUVM8dxlUFwjICqcuW0HC5nBAuRPz2Q8EvP906_u1-Ypf1Z6Ek1S827y6S7Wkn6IGJBaQFAqHKXgK0GN2QUusrumLOK-Dlj6vFG_ZloR5JHTAN634q_2FtSnH9lUe21ND_MJAUrxp/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAEumUVM8dxlUFwjICqcuW0HC5nBAuRPz2Q8EvP906_u1-Ypf1Z6Ek1S827y6S7Wkn6IGJBaQFAqHKXgK0GN2QUusrumLOK-Dlj6vFG_ZloR5JHTAN634q_2FtSnH9lUe21ND_MJAUrxp/s640/Screenshot-46.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And so he does (and it was good) - but he can't sleep afterwards. He has to think of Isabel, and his responsibilities as a single parent too. He feels a little guilty.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaQ9ALmdEE7fvfRj84qS9lqO3BKhknSsSiDMdkc1VK67v96344huVO4YfO0yZE0mPuAh5YYjuTALkgnHv79xekcDs-TRm-vf78VaWn596TMlzYct8XB6ROV4PHb1BFLMM6DeQpshrMoDI/s1600/Screenshot-53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaQ9ALmdEE7fvfRj84qS9lqO3BKhknSsSiDMdkc1VK67v96344huVO4YfO0yZE0mPuAh5YYjuTALkgnHv79xekcDs-TRm-vf78VaWn596TMlzYct8XB6ROV4PHb1BFLMM6DeQpshrMoDI/s640/Screenshot-53.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lost in conflicting emotions ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Being with someone new was going to change everything, again.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3TNeeIF0yAN63w2__jDgtWXM_SurYQtvoURdDy4rN09lWO_1EIHg0E65T9REMAV1Wr2eZqkz8kYVPBJ3KsaNz4H64wnfHyRtinb08PyONboPvmqwg1mvBDDwFRAx9i4KTc0A1-_RUmLTa/s1600/Screenshot-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3TNeeIF0yAN63w2__jDgtWXM_SurYQtvoURdDy4rN09lWO_1EIHg0E65T9REMAV1Wr2eZqkz8kYVPBJ3KsaNz4H64wnfHyRtinb08PyONboPvmqwg1mvBDDwFRAx9i4KTc0A1-_RUmLTa/s640/Screenshot-36.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But then again, some things never change ... </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Will Simon handle a new romance ... and more?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Go <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/116-second-chance.html">HERE</a> to read on to Ch. 1.16 - "A Second Chance" to find out!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-67731753211309719052012-10-02T18:02:00.002-07:002012-10-03T19:14:29.040-07:001.14 - Just Me and My DadQuite a few things changed for Isabel once she settled in to life with Dad.<br />
<br />
Dad got rid of a lot of dead plants that got neglected, and cleaned up all the piles of stinky dirty laundry too. He was a full time scientist now with more flexible hours. He now worked the same hours Isabel would be in school so they could spend a lot of time together.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmOv4x_ohZo0dhYwUz4WHIdD2kdrT_W7B4Q8QisDbS_tn0Aon59xi-_WwlnWiCY7fOEUflD9TBsYtEj_kcoYATq5xKMoo-AxVRPV7yozUrlhBeeAEqmStMaxVHQn4gM0iONyysUC9WTrn/s1600/72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmOv4x_ohZo0dhYwUz4WHIdD2kdrT_W7B4Q8QisDbS_tn0Aon59xi-_WwlnWiCY7fOEUflD9TBsYtEj_kcoYATq5xKMoo-AxVRPV7yozUrlhBeeAEqmStMaxVHQn4gM0iONyysUC9WTrn/s640/72.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon had really let the place go for awhile ... but now he had new motivation and happiness.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He even let Isabel paint over the bright butterfly wallpaper in her room and redecorate it herself - with dragon bedding and wall pictures of course.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8LvGLpzBHC3f0ECmCzFlAtB1bAhl4UwhSg1RgT_xG97tm4jUqgz9dC3OUjGPvI-H4_WBF32GadY_MjnOe79ANLm8B4HzdOnIcr_g0CCOtJyyVEoOI1vy5joBCrWr7857M9gYvTpV_rMv/s1600/Screenshot-289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8LvGLpzBHC3f0ECmCzFlAtB1bAhl4UwhSg1RgT_xG97tm4jUqgz9dC3OUjGPvI-H4_WBF32GadY_MjnOe79ANLm8B4HzdOnIcr_g0CCOtJyyVEoOI1vy5joBCrWr7857M9gYvTpV_rMv/s640/Screenshot-289.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel's room is not very feminine, but this is just how she likes it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel learned to ride a bike and she was even allowed to go up to her favorite place so long as she always took Cupid with her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K-RY9zXO0jJUWZzo8cGJokUpnr6PY-TqpI6KUcxALUjfxIPdHwXU1zvLZdF-D7PdauowrhQv16e56O92RA67S1BQ30xzVpEWbS2aTY8lveOtrjX5gx44ljkVeFLYCiSENqj-VEAo6TuG/s1600/Screenshot-129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K-RY9zXO0jJUWZzo8cGJokUpnr6PY-TqpI6KUcxALUjfxIPdHwXU1zvLZdF-D7PdauowrhQv16e56O92RA67S1BQ30xzVpEWbS2aTY8lveOtrjX5gx44ljkVeFLYCiSENqj-VEAo6TuG/s640/Screenshot-129.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Being the outdoors loving type was perfect for Appaloosa Plains since there was a lot of outdoors and not much else to do.<br />
<br />
Isabel spent a LOT of time at the dinosaur dig site.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHl9OjL8rmuxdysdNRcxM90pSMaZRH4IcWeDhjBP4bUtD8sIf1DvTY7ILB5Xfqakc576onIFtQdrqE-XJ59lFjqRD9QfJFJmJZjuTJ_vwxyMzOeppnL1Kav5ZkZD97wZ6v3QFXmjgqxdt/s1600/Screenshot-140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHl9OjL8rmuxdysdNRcxM90pSMaZRH4IcWeDhjBP4bUtD8sIf1DvTY7ILB5Xfqakc576onIFtQdrqE-XJ59lFjqRD9QfJFJmJZjuTJ_vwxyMzOeppnL1Kav5ZkZD97wZ6v3QFXmjgqxdt/s640/Screenshot-140.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's easy to imagine these old giant skulls are really dragons!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Cupid proved to be an excellent bone hunter. Isabel was starting a collection of them which she hoped to re-assemble into a real dragon skeleton someday!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwH1KWWydJsPi9KOJdAokNKlNwvMg-TnstDr_KMvtVPTSYk4QiMecGZzDTn2mbl5-nfLT0EmBPmXACi-62mTvyBj32XL2C_MBSxylSiX5MDm83of11kboBVsfNTGIc05DXYfUNWiuKXL0/s1600/Screenshot-141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwH1KWWydJsPi9KOJdAokNKlNwvMg-TnstDr_KMvtVPTSYk4QiMecGZzDTn2mbl5-nfLT0EmBPmXACi-62mTvyBj32XL2C_MBSxylSiX5MDm83of11kboBVsfNTGIc05DXYfUNWiuKXL0/s640/Screenshot-141.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<i>Cupid has found something SPECIAL</i>" (it better not be another empty chip bag!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel also gained a love and trust with animals like her Dad, though she was far more interested in fossils, bones and such. She did catch a pygmy komodo dragon that became her "first dragon" find ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHP94ufWefcbwhxLjXrK0Q8Jp2sP1S9TE6sORYvTyY_4uUoL1qJQOtl72PrY2c_OvOPoGNKHe8f0NzjhyphenhyphenAP5aEspL7wd66Eh0ZYU9fo8SySRK7uGfeQlrrPqAft-FVIqklhYC4UZYTLrVK/s1600/Screenshot-154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHP94ufWefcbwhxLjXrK0Q8Jp2sP1S9TE6sORYvTyY_4uUoL1qJQOtl72PrY2c_OvOPoGNKHe8f0NzjhyphenhyphenAP5aEspL7wd66Eh0ZYU9fo8SySRK7uGfeQlrrPqAft-FVIqklhYC4UZYTLrVK/s640/Screenshot-154.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I know Dad says you're not a <i>real </i>dragon, but you're <b>my </b>dragon!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Dad took her along on his zoological hunts, which she absolutely loved. She especially loved going up to the fishing hole with the waterfall.<br />
<br />
Here she saw her first wild horse.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55OzBcDNBaBlyptPkKS4O4Q5fa05skZU176atMGNofPxuK4YFcSsUvpkkbCHRT73AibKM-if1dZ6J543dOIXtK6kYfYJDa-u9lZay0mmf0Zu4YM_1NysHc1AU8Hb9hzmcrZ_INsKoZ9fd/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55OzBcDNBaBlyptPkKS4O4Q5fa05skZU176atMGNofPxuK4YFcSsUvpkkbCHRT73AibKM-if1dZ6J543dOIXtK6kYfYJDa-u9lZay0mmf0Zu4YM_1NysHc1AU8Hb9hzmcrZ_INsKoZ9fd/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"SQUEEEE!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Oh lets see that face up close ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUhEsjztHPZlE_hWIYfAmm1JX9Rx-4dY7-NYJN69l4-0S_fn5-hNLxq2L8LP4iUnLr3FRdDY5qECWXQ1T85j6nMQB-7xhD6tb0TjLUL7pav7YjnTfmqVceANHG-CgN5HKRkGKWz_6ztQd/s1600/Screenshot-163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUhEsjztHPZlE_hWIYfAmm1JX9Rx-4dY7-NYJN69l4-0S_fn5-hNLxq2L8LP4iUnLr3FRdDY5qECWXQ1T85j6nMQB-7xhD6tb0TjLUL7pav7YjnTfmqVceANHG-CgN5HKRkGKWz_6ztQd/s640/Screenshot-163.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel you are too cute!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And even Dad got a big surprise when one of the rarest birds in all of the animal simdom made a brief appearance.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU84SQ6x1loJaNqOT-heAFml05KV0XScdmO_OvqkT-zkmOFhK-Kmq0pvuaaTBWT6CBjmNwdOUuFhAPKHK_TFLddSVxw99judh1ezcQ6oXDFQco8iG361GUp5cUvBtpau5L08OyuXOYQanG/s1600/Screenshot-165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU84SQ6x1loJaNqOT-heAFml05KV0XScdmO_OvqkT-zkmOFhK-Kmq0pvuaaTBWT6CBjmNwdOUuFhAPKHK_TFLddSVxw99judh1ezcQ6oXDFQco8iG361GUp5cUvBtpau5L08OyuXOYQanG/s640/Screenshot-165.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The ultra rare Spotted Sixam!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel isn't afraid of icky things, and loves finding things, especially strange things. She catches water beetles to keep in the bath tub ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9BFWxXFU2CZlyjmgJgYuxpShoelBwlRxP7ER4EVuL2ROhvR5Hyo_dRrBNguAmDr4dvkbMcJIa26Szvj3NblRzRrxTtSWZ_yUEyvrkVei7OWTdCJtabG_b__yADFKKeZNqQnLo0KknM-T/s1600/Screenshot-168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9BFWxXFU2CZlyjmgJgYuxpShoelBwlRxP7ER4EVuL2ROhvR5Hyo_dRrBNguAmDr4dvkbMcJIa26Szvj3NblRzRrxTtSWZ_yUEyvrkVei7OWTdCJtabG_b__yADFKKeZNqQnLo0KknM-T/s640/Screenshot-168.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Maybe I can put these in Dad's drinking glass without him noticing ... that would be funny!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And she learns how to skip rocks on the pond which Cupid loved to chase after and get muddy wet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOdi38WHIR6wPjZjXPfNxURYnL5R65W4uADKMDJEtMO2P6VN7BX0HL51bwZkfHgXONYLX3l6_vfcBv4dSuw1DablMfnvpi6W05qy3srkgJi_aq6UeDhtqqr820EpYY-KMk-IidvR9nh5K/s1600/Screenshot-169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOdi38WHIR6wPjZjXPfNxURYnL5R65W4uADKMDJEtMO2P6VN7BX0HL51bwZkfHgXONYLX3l6_vfcBv4dSuw1DablMfnvpi6W05qy3srkgJi_aq6UeDhtqqr820EpYY-KMk-IidvR9nh5K/s640/Screenshot-169.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go get it Cupid!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Even Dad gives rock skipping a try.<br />
<br />
Cupid apparently wonders why he's not at work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTW1oDUq_s5PBZWqZub_Y7q5OVlOyEZVCfs6Mq8uTcb7UQyffNl5EC0mUFs0Wu1kuzTLWwsEdkOlr4Wt9sv6RfW8yORdLHf1PMKWg0Z78V3H7IUBh33QJhqqo9b9bthyHsAOyM8Km57GS/s1600/Screenshot-174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTW1oDUq_s5PBZWqZub_Y7q5OVlOyEZVCfs6Mq8uTcb7UQyffNl5EC0mUFs0Wu1kuzTLWwsEdkOlr4Wt9sv6RfW8yORdLHf1PMKWg0Z78V3H7IUBh33QJhqqo9b9bthyHsAOyM8Km57GS/s640/Screenshot-174.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Throwing in perfect unison - with matching scrunched up faces. =)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Simon teaches Isabel to fish. Where they spend a lot of time talking about life.<br />
<br />
Isabel wants to know why Dad and Mom split up. Dad says its really complicated.<br />
<br />
Isabel thinks it's pretty simple.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaIp7fukAQ3OQH-Ni2T53bKnDtEGIuDk3a2iH5eQqSk0thuMQH9L2M73nG3XVqCGo6-TaZNAm2vJFs4irglJVMTfW5osahEYZMCKFOVKT0hPO5gp3T0-Z002cWo39scUl5oq47SvJPmoE/s1600/Screenshot-195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaIp7fukAQ3OQH-Ni2T53bKnDtEGIuDk3a2iH5eQqSk0thuMQH9L2M73nG3XVqCGo6-TaZNAm2vJFs4irglJVMTfW5osahEYZMCKFOVKT0hPO5gp3T0-Z002cWo39scUl5oq47SvJPmoE/s640/Screenshot-195.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well I'm never getting married. Love is way overrated."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Dad catches a humongous mutant toad.<br />
<br />
Isabel only catches a scrawny minnow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oo09bgMGNSXjeEhAW68eXRElZGCdrMqp54-rfBiCwznIEj2cAq-muQQk5lV_k1JdgW-BpqdV195YZgj3LhyKYbQZQIR9Ox8wpLAgHoUOOdy7zw7pPmn0G31MU3UeUQXB5fDV47Fz1v8T/s1600/Screenshot-193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oo09bgMGNSXjeEhAW68eXRElZGCdrMqp54-rfBiCwznIEj2cAq-muQQk5lV_k1JdgW-BpqdV195YZgj3LhyKYbQZQIR9Ox8wpLAgHoUOOdy7zw7pPmn0G31MU3UeUQXB5fDV47Fz1v8T/s640/Screenshot-193.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What the crap Dad, that thing must be eating toxic waste runoff or something..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel and Cupid quickly become best friends, never leaving one another's side for long. Simon feels confident that Cupid keeps a close eye on his fearless daughter and keeps her in line.<br />
<br />
Cupid loves to play fetch almost as much as he loves to dig up stuff.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYPdaCJLCb585d9mYh-jDZBCDqB7Ld53fTaSZ0WYbhBUsZQEOrnaUtZylcx2R0-v3An-ZwHxySuyn8u28KN0K_uLsACQlq8kRGd9YGVIaGOIdtdHBXmtm5uU7gPPdOG4ptfdDn5S6cmxh/s1600/Screenshot-200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYPdaCJLCb585d9mYh-jDZBCDqB7Ld53fTaSZ0WYbhBUsZQEOrnaUtZylcx2R0-v3An-ZwHxySuyn8u28KN0K_uLsACQlq8kRGd9YGVIaGOIdtdHBXmtm5uU7gPPdOG4ptfdDn5S6cmxh/s640/Screenshot-200.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Friends Forever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And the best part of the whole summer was when Dad helped Isabel build a tree fort, and actually let her sleep out in it all night. She wasn't afraid one bit and dreamed of far away adventures she one day planned to have.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycmwELFzuas_LHg0x2MZH6bKP1VKRYpaTFjZ-9IRkQ_IqXA9Os3z8UT-l09U33yw_-1qGpGfSoKy-BRFx2GhO8Fb-Lwck1-VIH25JOGZQonp-4581ch4BiWG2pQ64W7tm_3-6NB5o3ngs/s1600/Screenshot-299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycmwELFzuas_LHg0x2MZH6bKP1VKRYpaTFjZ-9IRkQ_IqXA9Os3z8UT-l09U33yw_-1qGpGfSoKy-BRFx2GhO8Fb-Lwck1-VIH25JOGZQonp-4581ch4BiWG2pQ64W7tm_3-6NB5o3ngs/s640/Screenshot-299.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I spy a faraway land of strange creatures doing a mating ritual ... or the neighbors are just making out on their porch"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But even the best summers eventually come to an end.<br />
<br />
And everything changes.<br />
<br />
Isabel has to go to school now.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsuDGUcC9phTkU24z65SsWMcQV_haby9KJ9avaZ4ygdou1PVXBs49frMUCBQ8eQ1gZzGn83a_lNNXRAqJr9cm1xb2SGjm5gdOtVaDhfn9-pyXqDItwc1w1h94JtBHD7kQuEYLu77FBnec/s1600/Screenshot-4+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsuDGUcC9phTkU24z65SsWMcQV_haby9KJ9avaZ4ygdou1PVXBs49frMUCBQ8eQ1gZzGn83a_lNNXRAqJr9cm1xb2SGjm5gdOtVaDhfn9-pyXqDItwc1w1h94JtBHD7kQuEYLu77FBnec/s640/Screenshot-4+(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whispering to her first friend Joe, "Dude, I think the bus driver is a robot, look, she never turns her head!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then, the dreaded overrated thing happened.<br />
<br />
Her Dad met a girl when they went for ice cream one day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VGOzM_HF__PyUutHchkZPLRkhUvBKqzB9Yr0u_bO7nahvLghitf4f-pVPrYsC3a1vvPIYQRFllCMkBsQS85F8tFafPg5ypZHlpoYXnGPtmcXZbKApc6jbJJ6crXem3yrv_IS9XshsY8C/s1600/Screenshot-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VGOzM_HF__PyUutHchkZPLRkhUvBKqzB9Yr0u_bO7nahvLghitf4f-pVPrYsC3a1vvPIYQRFllCMkBsQS85F8tFafPg5ypZHlpoYXnGPtmcXZbKApc6jbJJ6crXem3yrv_IS9XshsY8C/s640/Screenshot-24.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"blah blah blah, vegetables, blah blah" - Isabel is <i>trying </i>to tune out their boring flirtatious conversation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yeah - Dad wasn't going to stay hers alone much longer. Isabel was pissed.<br />
<br />
She went over to Joe's to do homework. At least he didn't try to kiss her or be mushy and dumb.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl78qc-pIHCFU3Y2KYS_YE75in4skqF_YI7gKtlPZlCUcun2bUC2jH89xJE-IJFnC6THJic1caw9MScsr_touftkKnE-j5RDuKd21LgIge-eiHUImBFA3EZYFRmXE-V9O6rG804JfNOPJv/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl78qc-pIHCFU3Y2KYS_YE75in4skqF_YI7gKtlPZlCUcun2bUC2jH89xJE-IJFnC6THJic1caw9MScsr_touftkKnE-j5RDuKd21LgIge-eiHUImBFA3EZYFRmXE-V9O6rG804JfNOPJv/s640/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe: "Yeah, girls like it when guys take them under the covers and wrestle. My Mom and Dad do it all the time"<br />
Isabel: "Ugh, shut up and copy my homework faster Joe, you're grossing me out."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel was only half paying attention to her homework. It was so easy she didn't even have to think. She could instead<i> plot her next mastermind mission against the intruder woman</i> ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Stay Tuned</b> to find out if Isabel actually manages to run off Dad's new interest!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Go on to read Ch. 1.15 "Mothers and Monsters" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/115-mothers-and-monsters.html">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Sidenotes:<br />
<br />
Just a shorty update using some screenshots I had leftover before things start to change again. Simon's met someone he's compatible with this past weekend, so we'll see how that goes and hopefully get some fun prank action in for Isabel.<br />
<br />
I changed Isabel's hair to straight (at the end) because she doesn't have Mama around to do up the fancy twisty buns anymore and she prefers the no-fuss look anyways. ;) She's turning into a real "tomboy" which is to be expected with her personality and spending a lot of time outdoors with Dad. The future Adventurer-to-be is doing great!<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-33317390277762773572012-09-28T19:13:00.000-07:002012-10-02T18:09:28.828-07:001.13 - If You Love Something ... Set It FreeThe summer of Isabel's birthday, and last days in Appaloosa passed quickly. Far too quickly for Simon, who knew his soon-to-be ex-wife intended to take his little girl away with her.<br />
<br />
Isabel, it turns out, is growing exceptionally intelligent. She now spends most of her time reading to herself, Even as a tiny toddler, she seems to comprehend what all those symbols mean.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OrDRzZWUOAzYg_pIu8QLVEUnUyOUaeqEcMZdUwwax-vmaAR0Y8PpZxWs03L4vDDkxiyqytu4ORZmd-cCvZXnLk3j2ddOJBZJh-eACIhZXNkRVpzga5RiQieheDWBZ8PGeEHHL2O3kcLf/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OrDRzZWUOAzYg_pIu8QLVEUnUyOUaeqEcMZdUwwax-vmaAR0Y8PpZxWs03L4vDDkxiyqytu4ORZmd-cCvZXnLk3j2ddOJBZJh-eACIhZXNkRVpzga5RiQieheDWBZ8PGeEHHL2O3kcLf/s640/1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh The Destinations You'll Briefly Visit" (This is prophetic!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon spends a great deal of time every evening reading to Isabel and telling her elaborate adventure stories which she loves and sits attentively listening, hanging on his every word. Isabel is destined to be adventurous.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tu3ZhZXdjyHyeZSM2gjkQDm8d0GBRAxoSClKCEH688sQADIquKGLnZtse0wCp29Qhd5UnKGliPfyj5Xv1SZZpWzzgiy6wQ6-dIOdlvmA1uw7RBVvQiaSAjWQttefO88HSw1U-37blzrW/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tu3ZhZXdjyHyeZSM2gjkQDm8d0GBRAxoSClKCEH688sQADIquKGLnZtse0wCp29Qhd5UnKGliPfyj5Xv1SZZpWzzgiy6wQ6-dIOdlvmA1uw7RBVvQiaSAjWQttefO88HSw1U-37blzrW/s640/3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"More Dragon story, more more!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma, meanwhile, spends her remaining days in Appaloosa - networking.<br />
<br />
Schmoozing it up with local celebrities and money-makers might come in handy once she got back to the city and needed some references.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfyDLnOJ2brbk2pp2ygl7g_Oucte0RCCdDSfMHgdIfu3OlzNfFBkMes7aiXCkac04C62FI6fMkWTjZUo6v2heV_0Hucaj8v2Cw3OTS2ujcGPyNL-kmHzplUKyQBnxYWuSul8q_T_v_UaK/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfyDLnOJ2brbk2pp2ygl7g_Oucte0RCCdDSfMHgdIfu3OlzNfFBkMes7aiXCkac04C62FI6fMkWTjZUo6v2heV_0Hucaj8v2Cw3OTS2ujcGPyNL-kmHzplUKyQBnxYWuSul8q_T_v_UaK/s640/7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My Father is on the city council in St. Claire, I will put in a good word for you."<br />
(Yes, apparently Booker Singleton is running for Mayor, what a scoundrel!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma tries to take Isabel to her round of parties and social gatherings.<br />
<br />
But Isabel is not impressed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnleqPzBF9AS5Yci1bT-85Xo0hGjYS4RppTcmOX_U02PeH0-bbmtgkgnaDIlaInTip0T_N8wCP8Duj8qqFgJdsG_0p2_8Jx3giMxFnCwHH5g54nd7pT0Ud0l_bfVUkfEuGeTP32hVettF0/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnleqPzBF9AS5Yci1bT-85Xo0hGjYS4RppTcmOX_U02PeH0-bbmtgkgnaDIlaInTip0T_N8wCP8Duj8qqFgJdsG_0p2_8Jx3giMxFnCwHH5g54nd7pT0Ud0l_bfVUkfEuGeTP32hVettF0/s640/8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"How can you guys stare at that stupid moving picture box? It's so boring!" <br />
(Malina and Ethan Parrott growing up on a steady diet of television reality shows.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Saying good-bye to her best friend Melody was hard for Emma. Melody now had two young daughters and her husband was a traveling businessman so she was lonely a lot.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1ENdzB6YRYZ6rlkwe4-O4L6QoPwDAEvf_gdPsYvFoSzeB0lIdWvfM9BcHZaPAsfsrqAmyGcrWVIbMXDb1yj7LL-URiN1h6lnWE-Tx9P6zrN-pymC9AjqwMnwaILNpuKb04WjgdEFSEQY/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1ENdzB6YRYZ6rlkwe4-O4L6QoPwDAEvf_gdPsYvFoSzeB0lIdWvfM9BcHZaPAsfsrqAmyGcrWVIbMXDb1yj7LL-URiN1h6lnWE-Tx9P6zrN-pymC9AjqwMnwaILNpuKb04WjgdEFSEQY/s640/13.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm sad you're leaving Emma, but I understand your marriage was just not working out."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's been wearing her hair up in a sophisticated up-do Melody taught her, and she's also been teaching her to do Isabel's hair like little Anna and Bethany's. Such cute little girly-girls.<br />
<br />
Emma promises to have Bethany come visit them in St. Claire as soon as she's settled in.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRpXAzqZHTgHmppRnBVE2Yavtuhw4ME-ZTdVqjSfFeTp_DT7nAv16lpe-blfUNPdCmWUZWZCaiMbBkCHEv98DskKORbF03URLoHzOt0n12ynhHfFUZu8qk2-lIGe9sZ5d4dkxyQ4bJDnK/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRpXAzqZHTgHmppRnBVE2Yavtuhw4ME-ZTdVqjSfFeTp_DT7nAv16lpe-blfUNPdCmWUZWZCaiMbBkCHEv98DskKORbF03URLoHzOt0n12ynhHfFUZu8qk2-lIGe9sZ5d4dkxyQ4bJDnK/s640/15.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Lets get together and go shopping and to the spa town of Bradford, soon!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma gets a call from Daryl Jackson, who has something special he wants to give her for a going away present. Daryl's wife just had twins, and they already had two sons, so their house is quite full, but Emma dresses up for the occasion since Daryl's a celebrity.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnuJiIitFls6DsT4dSYBJwwwWrcXuyd2EhLzF5g1ToOhDHt8mMZI0nffiT_Jz6IZXq7c5X_oh__KMRbdjwQ9IxGQ93NnDci2uGO2HEL_34KeCPSmSrOJ23lzGM7TtnbuC5-WZbjfLFWHn/s1600/35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnuJiIitFls6DsT4dSYBJwwwWrcXuyd2EhLzF5g1ToOhDHt8mMZI0nffiT_Jz6IZXq7c5X_oh__KMRbdjwQ9IxGQ93NnDci2uGO2HEL_34KeCPSmSrOJ23lzGM7TtnbuC5-WZbjfLFWHn/s640/35.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An appropriately snooty look ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Daryl asks Emma to step into his office and shows her a new website he's working on for his catering business. At the top is a tab for the various locations catering can be ordered, and Emma notices right away one of the listed locations is St. Claire!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrImUyLlu3MUpHX1eQKfgAB9gtt2oNERiaYCadFpa3BWc8Tq67BJ5EsSNmWZeK8UAjoqgEFUkBHgdyaTVtwkmfiOUKmBsx0RUfq8l31wmrQ7NhZYZ9GIkTqd60_XkT44wgDynJb-QlymU/s1600/36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrImUyLlu3MUpHX1eQKfgAB9gtt2oNERiaYCadFpa3BWc8Tq67BJ5EsSNmWZeK8UAjoqgEFUkBHgdyaTVtwkmfiOUKmBsx0RUfq8l31wmrQ7NhZYZ9GIkTqd60_XkT44wgDynJb-QlymU/s640/36.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Emma, I'd like you to help me run a new catering division in St. Claire if you're up to it. Your style is great!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's stunned. She expected to return to St. Claire a failure in her parent's eyes. A single Mom and struggling to make ends meet. But here is an opportunity to work for Daryl in a business which allows her to socialize and work with wealthy people. How perfect! Suddenly everything's looking up for Emma.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0qJrrBXHkkbOtjqTLNWAz_rp1rtiUEku5EyprEz_bYfgYF9fBLOgxASW2rwE5EDt7-9Hxdq6qPl16T7X4fs9bCYE_ny-W8t_9B8SrGoTixmjkpm1l9u7xIRF6Yv2XwKO9AnC74BpELRQ/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0qJrrBXHkkbOtjqTLNWAz_rp1rtiUEku5EyprEz_bYfgYF9fBLOgxASW2rwE5EDt7-9Hxdq6qPl16T7X4fs9bCYE_ny-W8t_9B8SrGoTixmjkpm1l9u7xIRF6Yv2XwKO9AnC74BpELRQ/s640/38.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Me?! I can't believe it, this is the most amazing business opportunity I've ever been given. Yes of course I'll do it!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The day of Isabel's birthday finally arrives. Emma's planned for them to leave immediately after Isabel has some cake and spend one last day with her Dad.<br />
<br />
Simon, of course, wants nothing to do with big parties or 'strangers' at the house, and its too small to have more than a couple of people inside anyways. So Isabel gets a tiny party in the yard with just her parents and Cupid.<br />
<br />
Emma dresses down in old clothes. She doesn't want to get sticky cake or dog hair on her new city clothes. (My how quickly she's changed from the girl-digging-in-the-garden-days!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xNgoMPvHCYKsLN7MDdjGgEJb30RUZ8BsuCzQ01yeMsv3dGHuM0ixfypXuMaMnYfuDxjUKrql3AU-UxPmzEmVrtKkDnXwoBDbTqPI72ZO4dMPVCNqaZHodkNR3iwDk0APzzHQqPu9eJX3/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xNgoMPvHCYKsLN7MDdjGgEJb30RUZ8BsuCzQ01yeMsv3dGHuM0ixfypXuMaMnYfuDxjUKrql3AU-UxPmzEmVrtKkDnXwoBDbTqPI72ZO4dMPVCNqaZHodkNR3iwDk0APzzHQqPu9eJX3/s640/16.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Emma please, for <i>her sake</i>, can we just pretend to be happy for one day?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel's already got a wish ready - she's been waiting for this day since she could talk and walk!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTogP1TrfhtTpoCBbkrBFKgHt92dFaELvOpm-XRvmlrZfPDfddX0Igc9ZaOhQUEjIu75ATiwt8_Mr8OdH4cCuPxYFGOKATUk5hQ54w9m8x6vPInTc11xevevhPwuW4UpKaj4cHgfZTsDUI/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTogP1TrfhtTpoCBbkrBFKgHt92dFaELvOpm-XRvmlrZfPDfddX0Igc9ZaOhQUEjIu75ATiwt8_Mr8OdH4cCuPxYFGOKATUk5hQ54w9m8x6vPInTc11xevevhPwuW4UpKaj4cHgfZTsDUI/s640/18.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Someday I want to find the dragons!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then she gets that funny little tickle thing happening ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZik7YCYiyFae33IoxZIAFMZqbkQYuTKDG3KL4SR1ovIL11N10X9F_aFWPvFUNnDuYeUosWvjvJ22Zj1YOeur7qf7x8MGj3sAgBbQIeBgzLiasjlBKFDdbm8z4x0TCN5KrkanWubXzrDb/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZik7YCYiyFae33IoxZIAFMZqbkQYuTKDG3KL4SR1ovIL11N10X9F_aFWPvFUNnDuYeUosWvjvJ22Zj1YOeur7qf7x8MGj3sAgBbQIeBgzLiasjlBKFDdbm8z4x0TCN5KrkanWubXzrDb/s640/19.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid: "<i>Woah, there's <b>sparkles </b>coming out of your butt!</i>"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And ages up into a very pretty little girl.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4wEDDbkbOYngxNElX95Xi0to-KwSG44a6anMSLaZh1QxoxrdtH_7_CXiKdCCmnEmVY6dKyRSFQTUWLIbfszexh3AH6aCdRXtZ_r3FHA2zQU_e_yWCwSGgE2ZZKsfcuN4ogUcvdapgKXn/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4wEDDbkbOYngxNElX95Xi0to-KwSG44a6anMSLaZh1QxoxrdtH_7_CXiKdCCmnEmVY6dKyRSFQTUWLIbfszexh3AH6aCdRXtZ_r3FHA2zQU_e_yWCwSGgE2ZZKsfcuN4ogUcvdapgKXn/s640/21.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Birthday Isabel!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She promptly does some fist pumping in celebration while Mom blows a horn in her face.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVO_4tmCWvhAgSGttgHea-Dp3Uu3y00KN-6PIqDSWwHnlzp-owXeePfWTZjT0dVDMiIkwpOzCtGifhrN7PUN7sEZDtUgQJVD7ldsiNpipCdkCTsNfR6cF5zcsMzJW5D_8mzphI8kVIgEPC/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVO_4tmCWvhAgSGttgHea-Dp3Uu3y00KN-6PIqDSWwHnlzp-owXeePfWTZjT0dVDMiIkwpOzCtGifhrN7PUN7sEZDtUgQJVD7ldsiNpipCdkCTsNfR6cF5zcsMzJW5D_8mzphI8kVIgEPC/s640/24.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh YEAH - this ROCKS!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel gains the <u>Genius</u> trait. This was pretty much a given considering how quickly she learned her skills and how well she could already read books!<br />
<br />
Simon's not at all surprised. He's very proud of his little girl. It's a sad moment for him, his wish for her to be a genius came true, but now she's leaving.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3G_K8usfzitKu3yUhyphenhyphenynQXXi8r2rOlgyvrN-UcIjWGJhtx1-8yj5yg2vvoIKhSyMIf03MrMNgYQOi-DhVBZhE9OVRufZHzdJsdn9z1jI7avrVXSHgcbl83ltEJSfU1ur3KMc5U8u9FzOS/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3G_K8usfzitKu3yUhyphenhyphenynQXXi8r2rOlgyvrN-UcIjWGJhtx1-8yj5yg2vvoIKhSyMIf03MrMNgYQOi-DhVBZhE9OVRufZHzdJsdn9z1jI7avrVXSHgcbl83ltEJSfU1ur3KMc5U8u9FzOS/s640/26.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awww... poor Simon!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What's even worse, Simon gets to be the one to break the news to Isabel that she's going away that very same day.<br />
<br />
As one can imagine ... Isabel's reaction is priceless.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rz-ukheRvXS2appTufnPLZ0eerf14Ag_C3bq-ANFX8XxGKbuVkSvk1g-GoMDrsszI1XOU4DoKRHzIx3D9KXiXmRf3vtglO5nsPzqnmSVzwVgcuGzqpRFW4-BM_dUuEN4OaY8zHSN-91K/s1600/28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rz-ukheRvXS2appTufnPLZ0eerf14Ag_C3bq-ANFX8XxGKbuVkSvk1g-GoMDrsszI1XOU4DoKRHzIx3D9KXiXmRf3vtglO5nsPzqnmSVzwVgcuGzqpRFW4-BM_dUuEN4OaY8zHSN-91K/s640/28.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just this one day here, for your Birthday. Then your Mom is taking you to a new school in St. Claire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Simon tries to find a constructive way to tell Isabel her wealthy Grandparents are paying to send her to a fancy boarding school while her Mom settles in and gets a business going in St. Claire - but he just blurts it out because it makes him feel sick at his stomach.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnV-Kqi1TAvOBb5rG2UU2fgskli209BWJcj2wu6BdLQ1xodPQuPmT3fAapNrX-EMAIJlRKulxyg4VS8D0LMMPD0dd0RzZ0hn8NdAXsHVgKIbOcEvadsZFR-VpXS205maApIDcHxwVI_ei/s1600/32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnV-Kqi1TAvOBb5rG2UU2fgskli209BWJcj2wu6BdLQ1xodPQuPmT3fAapNrX-EMAIJlRKulxyg4VS8D0LMMPD0dd0RzZ0hn8NdAXsHVgKIbOcEvadsZFR-VpXS205maApIDcHxwVI_ei/s640/32.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What?! But this is my home, I don't want to go away to some stupid boarding school!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon tries to explain all of the exciting things she'll get to do in this new school. A new adventure!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk_P7hZy8-49Wh0xY_hNDruls2NlQcTlrnHKhRqqsPkYpAEStFlhFqVG_ftY51ehbguZQ1cWBOGS0UoTNfo282cM9wIfcpt8W2bORjij7sVByhM5ONUkwErgJS0S9MEVBpcRIfWWdYau_/s1600/30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk_P7hZy8-49Wh0xY_hNDruls2NlQcTlrnHKhRqqsPkYpAEStFlhFqVG_ftY51ehbguZQ1cWBOGS0UoTNfo282cM9wIfcpt8W2bORjij7sVByhM5ONUkwErgJS0S9MEVBpcRIfWWdYau_/s640/30.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your Mom says there's a great art program there ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But Isabel's not impressed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6GvIKBfsnFhEFA3wvFnx6185mKW7EP6s5y7XLqedpzxwnZiVvqyAU30pwxUU8oGCerWzobsiP5ZmrKQQJmchekS3TowV2ukPHf75Ku4I2TlfcGCR30CRSU57x9ABViaT9rSKQ3G7tejHA/s1600/29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6GvIKBfsnFhEFA3wvFnx6185mKW7EP6s5y7XLqedpzxwnZiVvqyAU30pwxUU8oGCerWzobsiP5ZmrKQQJmchekS3TowV2ukPHf75Ku4I2TlfcGCR30CRSU57x9ABViaT9rSKQ3G7tejHA/s640/29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The only art I want to see is the school getting nuked into oblivion!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon can't help but chuckle at how brave his little daughter is, and how smart too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLSRSLFjQCsNQSg6bH5GbxIktteup1_8lroF7zdjfOk5MmcscnjOi2KhGsRoHfS2fM079CHe78SwIHa3gYngNCCZIJSnaL5-iZKCIliRM9YjbI6UYuZl1MPOC3Hv5AKvK7jHpR4dZLW6F/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLSRSLFjQCsNQSg6bH5GbxIktteup1_8lroF7zdjfOk5MmcscnjOi2KhGsRoHfS2fM079CHe78SwIHa3gYngNCCZIJSnaL5-iZKCIliRM9YjbI6UYuZl1MPOC3Hv5AKvK7jHpR4dZLW6F/s640/31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm <b>not </b>going to a boarding school, I'm going to live <i><b>here </b></i>with you!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon casually says that's an issue she'll have to take up with her Mother. (Secretly he hopes she does)<br />
<br />
Suddenly, Isabel's got a plan ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0yA7qAmHXUoqvmb-_r3jwhbxe5Gbe4zTofjjBzYfp1k9KpcysfXmkvaSFqT6P09nDl7oW5uhe8HfSPOmk0GCfVWMoUL5MFksnCjvCmt6gqTTgFulxlooV6uwjkZwlYLGYNstRwJCi7l0/s1600/33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0yA7qAmHXUoqvmb-_r3jwhbxe5Gbe4zTofjjBzYfp1k9KpcysfXmkvaSFqT6P09nDl7oW5uhe8HfSPOmk0GCfVWMoUL5MFksnCjvCmt6gqTTgFulxlooV6uwjkZwlYLGYNstRwJCi7l0/s640/33.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh. Well that's <i><u>easy</u></i>!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma comes back from some last minute planning and business paperwork with Daryl, and is anxious to get going, ready to rush poor Isabel out the door.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, Isabel doesn't put up much of a fight ... for now.<br />
<br />
Simon tries one last time to talk Emma out of her decision.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoEIGjH2AVYf_BWM6ZjELg4FqZnvMBmSqbZgLHoG5v7xWwyslycB7Jq_vlR3bTBJJ37js-BA1ZJiwtVUjYtWeCmsO_wZRLWK6fCewh6bAASqAmOqppYKBwtshLgKLgiIhFK9yDd_c2c7F/s1600/46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoEIGjH2AVYf_BWM6ZjELg4FqZnvMBmSqbZgLHoG5v7xWwyslycB7Jq_vlR3bTBJJ37js-BA1ZJiwtVUjYtWeCmsO_wZRLWK6fCewh6bAASqAmOqppYKBwtshLgKLgiIhFK9yDd_c2c7F/s640/46.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just think about what <i>Isabel </i>wants?" ... Emma's losing her cool. "NO Simon, we're getting a divorce! We don't even have anything in common anymore and I want this business opportunity! Isabel will do great in the city!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Resignedly, Simon hugs Isabel goodbye and tries to keep from showing any emotion at all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL19c8kLSjiXenodEVA_mv9rJIfXGH4dQi5UKVmUHWl-AUpstR8AMZhRHq9S2NS8UBSLqChchZgjF6curWyRnG7VQgHrnGclMhkW-TbLjPvbFfefpbde6DAKxKpxdgku8eVtLfDKkbrYvQ/s1600/51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL19c8kLSjiXenodEVA_mv9rJIfXGH4dQi5UKVmUHWl-AUpstR8AMZhRHq9S2NS8UBSLqChchZgjF6curWyRnG7VQgHrnGclMhkW-TbLjPvbFfefpbde6DAKxKpxdgku8eVtLfDKkbrYvQ/s640/51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Bye Daddy, see you soon!" Isabel whispers to Simon ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Emma's not even afraid to flaunt the fact they're riding away in a taxi. She's happy to show Simon she's absolutely done with the "Going Green" deal! (And flaunting Watcher's roll too!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-FJp2wikEKkN_TVdFDMFM2gJdeKHDwLrvYkmCwhtIAhBrp8FeXgvuf-IN1e6CU9xDfL0jCL4dntOL_EW2e_GW46P5p30Y56pAh971gScIqIQLMaIqiugeJbicezyRsL3A8rddapUc7wE/s1600/53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-FJp2wikEKkN_TVdFDMFM2gJdeKHDwLrvYkmCwhtIAhBrp8FeXgvuf-IN1e6CU9xDfL0jCL4dntOL_EW2e_GW46P5p30Y56pAh971gScIqIQLMaIqiugeJbicezyRsL3A8rddapUc7wE/s640/53.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma dreams of her new exciting life ahead while Isabel - <i>plots revenge.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Hours later, they finally arrive at the boarding school where Isabel is to be enrolled. Emma can barely keep up with her daughter who suddenly seems very anxious to go inside.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJnz117liUgE8FtVlfxtULS3LzrS5u_GkrEKtil7EaMryImXlQuDDljDohDy4UkrsmDcKViWiXWhmmkHjdYrGs8pn6_nuPPc01r4ZCEn3uIR0RRMqXjSB0EJCCGS_pmOcNzFIT8TsyU4Z/s1600/54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJnz117liUgE8FtVlfxtULS3LzrS5u_GkrEKtil7EaMryImXlQuDDljDohDy4UkrsmDcKViWiXWhmmkHjdYrGs8pn6_nuPPc01r4ZCEn3uIR0RRMqXjSB0EJCCGS_pmOcNzFIT8TsyU4Z/s640/54.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Isabel wait, we have to check in at the office!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Isabel rounds on her Mother and glares angrily at her. She tells her she's not going to be embarrassed and coddled about this stupid school idea. If her Mom thinks she's old enough to go to a boarding school, then Isabel thinks she's old enough to go in all by herself!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWN7HGm7unIYbvZLXRuoz7yMrCQSdswb4siLt2-WozCnFiJ1sXgjWodqtaIU9k9-HMKBKu1hxUEa-cQSlsHASew4ExQFL7lb9z1vNBrK8mxVALIESmq-05P2mKc4DHVegunQ0B2qzafm4/s1600/58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWN7HGm7unIYbvZLXRuoz7yMrCQSdswb4siLt2-WozCnFiJ1sXgjWodqtaIU9k9-HMKBKu1hxUEa-cQSlsHASew4ExQFL7lb9z1vNBrK8mxVALIESmq-05P2mKc4DHVegunQ0B2qzafm4/s640/58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"All the other girls will laugh at me, and call me a baby! I don't even want to <b>BE </b>here, but I'm going to go in <u>alone</u>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's not that surprised by Isabel's anger. She expected her to act out long before now actually. She's relieved its just a case of the jitters and independence. Isabel's a brave girl, she's going to do fine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAphPlatU4IK3Ae662vpnk08O-9_1V2s9k6vXY4sPURDZ8rxAHxzQOmswtjmAGK2_7PhfTPxC0HJCbjskTgXPqA8h31wWfCI73W5hpipqH1SEdmq_tIqreKAQFBwks1XICQ_Td3cWcTR8r/s1600/55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAphPlatU4IK3Ae662vpnk08O-9_1V2s9k6vXY4sPURDZ8rxAHxzQOmswtjmAGK2_7PhfTPxC0HJCbjskTgXPqA8h31wWfCI73W5hpipqH1SEdmq_tIqreKAQFBwks1XICQ_Td3cWcTR8r/s640/55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well, if you're sure ... " says Emma -- Isabel sighs, "Yeah, I'm sure Mom."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma has no idea just how clever her daughter has become.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj814jmh9WF_xhKBzwQ6ncfBoVva_ALPC2ZQXqob8YkeQC1lTSozBJUIe8KetCKXtOOAtKILl0jCkrLQNdXnPI7PcddxPW-JnY5EsFM6dyC3ls1Fm8_Gu82sBvFYpPPVpOCIteU2nHEQPJ6/s1600/57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj814jmh9WF_xhKBzwQ6ncfBoVva_ALPC2ZQXqob8YkeQC1lTSozBJUIe8KetCKXtOOAtKILl0jCkrLQNdXnPI7PcddxPW-JnY5EsFM6dyC3ls1Fm8_Gu82sBvFYpPPVpOCIteU2nHEQPJ6/s640/57.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Bye Mom, I'll call you tomorrow when you get to St. Claire. Don't worry about me."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And just like that, Isabel's chance to escape is wide open.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<br />
Simon, meanwhile, has been having an absolutely terrible time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwKJfr_CcVCOgXN76wU0jeDHbU9VoSsvX8e0MP9_7ZOQxikH_OWdkpHDTuWrNZDlk54PoUT-ShOeM-DGsD04vGOlLXbo7whrQ2AkmM7j2amRAM8nPgtpRizrpJbjasmL_B4guncz4Cvzwz/s1600/66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwKJfr_CcVCOgXN76wU0jeDHbU9VoSsvX8e0MP9_7ZOQxikH_OWdkpHDTuWrNZDlk54PoUT-ShOeM-DGsD04vGOlLXbo7whrQ2AkmM7j2amRAM8nPgtpRizrpJbjasmL_B4guncz4Cvzwz/s640/66.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not a dog you'd want to mess with, right? (even with happy face thoughts!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Less than 48 hours has passed, and in that short span of time everything has gone wrong. First a thief came and tried to get in the house. Cupid manages to run the invader off, but not before they make off with Simon's bike AND the ratty old washing machine!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRC9ODYpGoLGDSH_KgPHYnppwo3zIJ013IBSEnyVeEhxjHN4rZwTh3SMeGNt3AmNTln_2bMwrEOLEy2TaCXH_DMPoC1H3b_I4KKGv9nwzdJnFewEFf_y-xP0_a-E3qARB5hyphenhyphenu9TZ4d3tGZ/s1600/69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRC9ODYpGoLGDSH_KgPHYnppwo3zIJ013IBSEnyVeEhxjHN4rZwTh3SMeGNt3AmNTln_2bMwrEOLEy2TaCXH_DMPoC1H3b_I4KKGv9nwzdJnFewEFf_y-xP0_a-E3qARB5hyphenhyphenu9TZ4d3tGZ/s640/69.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How, exactly, do they <b>DO </b>that?! (Santa Claus magic bags I guess)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Then Simon has to explain to Cupid that no one has stolen his best friend Isabel too!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimWmXUazltlp0Yzy0FebfBmNUQOguGQgMqlcHWIWIXoulPIEgvrb-vBK1nwJyT8Sce68708Sm885YGpII6KaHLjyTGwVmiaCPRJWvvi3IlCVYgXpqa8vZb2kpOv1ddkuiuwdofc-1B-WdW/s1600/63-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimWmXUazltlp0Yzy0FebfBmNUQOguGQgMqlcHWIWIXoulPIEgvrb-vBK1nwJyT8Sce68708Sm885YGpII6KaHLjyTGwVmiaCPRJWvvi3IlCVYgXpqa8vZb2kpOv1ddkuiuwdofc-1B-WdW/s640/63-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dude.... <i>WHERE IS SHE</i>?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
Cupid is now thoroughly convinced everyone's a bad guy and here to steal his humans.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The mailman does not fair well and runs for his life.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYkr0sPt4cUbXS62Rfcb9qFLnYdCztV32wTrMov7QsgC-1YHraZdIWTj0hLYtdTIJwx0mBv6mqXr2xTtLEdy7hHhonY1Dz7QXWf8xU-QrrzTs7nwrnb_nQIoeQHWQdSo-YTeJfQwXeDET/s1600/65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYkr0sPt4cUbXS62Rfcb9qFLnYdCztV32wTrMov7QsgC-1YHraZdIWTj0hLYtdTIJwx0mBv6mqXr2xTtLEdy7hHhonY1Dz7QXWf8xU-QrrzTs7nwrnb_nQIoeQHWQdSo-YTeJfQwXeDET/s640/65.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Aaaaagh, haaaaalp!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon can't sleep. He wakes up several times a night with anxiety attacks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEi_z2NiKJoolpOj4kZFCo8b5lwqCCfgFmqJLLsd14NJPafAcivzgZmvyAftntM63ES5yoVVGEmaFQlzj_D8BejMOvmxeRuRw7lsREx3obmWa9ss-xMTyhZajnZYk678LFW8g3Ymo1rdG/s1600/61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEi_z2NiKJoolpOj4kZFCo8b5lwqCCfgFmqJLLsd14NJPafAcivzgZmvyAftntM63ES5yoVVGEmaFQlzj_D8BejMOvmxeRuRw7lsREx3obmWa9ss-xMTyhZajnZYk678LFW8g3Ymo1rdG/s640/61.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This all feels so <u>WRONG</u>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He can't even focus on work, and stays home. Worrying.<br />
<br />
Simon ends up sitting up half the night on the floor next to Cupid. Isabel has not returned his call. He has no idea if she's doing ok at her first night of boarding school ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIH3K8fWCwLuXQ6Bs01SNEMBDiBxgvxfbxphr6jX32XnsWVZxJScZ6klZEGrRtqDo-IKCySmWMHUbnin9q4t6uUr53pfUnXdKieBlKdtXXApetO71q6jD5w2bFmzj5CJ3aw1YnR3VcP3Gh/s1600/63.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIH3K8fWCwLuXQ6Bs01SNEMBDiBxgvxfbxphr6jX32XnsWVZxJScZ6klZEGrRtqDo-IKCySmWMHUbnin9q4t6uUr53pfUnXdKieBlKdtXXApetO71q6jD5w2bFmzj5CJ3aw1YnR3VcP3Gh/s640/63.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Isabel <b>is </b>doing ok, <i>but she's not at boarding school</i> ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Everything with her escape plan goes pretty good, at first.<br />
<br />
Scoring a bus ride was no problem. The half asleep attendant never even looked at her when she bought the ticket, nor did the bus driver care that a kid was traveling alone.<br />
<br />
But then there was the problem of not knowing her way around town when she got back to Appaloosa Plains. She decides to just sit and think about it for a few minutes ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzCFfQz8j1pI2lJvMRniukA_tJEhzYin1DOsxHBW9Ho7oclAoyxYM533FNysk2CU9ad-euTWAgV9eUGCRLvfa3lx7u-JbM_uZcNMm3e1XE-ZQgpaUMJ1t6ZkU3TPId2w8NEvzsdZRlqQh/s1600/75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzCFfQz8j1pI2lJvMRniukA_tJEhzYin1DOsxHBW9Ho7oclAoyxYM533FNysk2CU9ad-euTWAgV9eUGCRLvfa3lx7u-JbM_uZcNMm3e1XE-ZQgpaUMJ1t6ZkU3TPId2w8NEvzsdZRlqQh/s640/75.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel's first big adventure, falling asleep on a park bench!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then she runs into a cop outside the coffee shop.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimvAdJ393l6H4pYUAXr2U0a2cfU1PZfQ-rA3MYSadjUC1uUeqh3FcVZEd_PjHNvnd2Y6Nu7p06Wb-b4AV8XMkMvjMxF4x1LGSsjZRpoipph8qc209g87-77gcMpodp5EK6ScIBXikuPIdg/s1600/76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimvAdJ393l6H4pYUAXr2U0a2cfU1PZfQ-rA3MYSadjUC1uUeqh3FcVZEd_PjHNvnd2Y6Nu7p06Wb-b4AV8XMkMvjMxF4x1LGSsjZRpoipph8qc209g87-77gcMpodp5EK6ScIBXikuPIdg/s640/76.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh hi there officer! Time for donuts?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And of course, can't explain why she's out in the middle of the night with no parents. Nor can she even give her address since she never learned it before Mom dragged her off immediately!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCXYXoLvOikz8QkPm1SmAgdxzumLF_2fv8_0DaxNmnXN2VzYb9ktKPzdrSRuiEdQj5GhPzXAEGWt1wh-AfMtoglooPyMu1qHdP6kDgpT11qvnil46I3Zc1ov3sB0hxf9Z7xiKsAsBpyRy/s1600/77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCXYXoLvOikz8QkPm1SmAgdxzumLF_2fv8_0DaxNmnXN2VzYb9ktKPzdrSRuiEdQj5GhPzXAEGWt1wh-AfMtoglooPyMu1qHdP6kDgpT11qvnil46I3Zc1ov3sB0hxf9Z7xiKsAsBpyRy/s640/77.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Looks like you're going to have to come down to the station with me little lady."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon's half asleep when he gets a phone call from the Appaloosa Police Station. Every parent's worst nightmare ...<br />
<br />
The boarding school also calls Emma to report that Isabel never showed up for check-in. Both parents are appropriately freaking out right now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5RyiOwv5VEEWjXpgJb_nP0siiQzydqH61fvCiqtQgeCwcpVSEObJnGOHvaFz-VCH5IVukl9wtSh8-rEAPsDBr4Nhipb_ek7JpDuNfZj7lPB9LaStCqeY8f0r2iIpFJ0ZmJFg5bbL4uTfH/s1600/78.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5RyiOwv5VEEWjXpgJb_nP0siiQzydqH61fvCiqtQgeCwcpVSEObJnGOHvaFz-VCH5IVukl9wtSh8-rEAPsDBr4Nhipb_ek7JpDuNfZj7lPB9LaStCqeY8f0r2iIpFJ0ZmJFg5bbL4uTfH/s640/78.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sir, we have a little girl here named Isabel, who was picked up at the local coffee shop. She says you're her Father, can you come down here and bring some identification please?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel waits casually outside the police station for her Dad to arrive.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqW_x1vfXJkR7EpKvqaz96js54Jz_rCS0RclLDpiuOJPEPmyh4jPRSkT0foS5VxqR3h92v2XP3J_Y4RbvkS17Ob4QdZazMUZDoTUa7DnFiDaB9DGiVyOFgKy8gdx9xTftgixgrG0tkrU9/s1600/81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqW_x1vfXJkR7EpKvqaz96js54Jz_rCS0RclLDpiuOJPEPmyh4jPRSkT0foS5VxqR3h92v2XP3J_Y4RbvkS17Ob4QdZazMUZDoTUa7DnFiDaB9DGiVyOFgKy8gdx9xTftgixgrG0tkrU9/s640/81.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing with her dragon. Of course!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then Simon gets there and scoops Isabel up in a fierce protective hug, crying and laughing at the same time - relieved that she's safe.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJBUBfZVibixEocokkizaTuuVMXt7NqtGs-IrZ49F7R02a110p1kPrg0dxsbM0pMb2nPEjaiSytFDgbMd8teNLejDyVLohECxD4XsbuYURXoBwVnkj2X4HSP3sYo0T-QRlcan2-QsLZcG/s1600/86.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJBUBfZVibixEocokkizaTuuVMXt7NqtGs-IrZ49F7R02a110p1kPrg0dxsbM0pMb2nPEjaiSytFDgbMd8teNLejDyVLohECxD4XsbuYURXoBwVnkj2X4HSP3sYo0T-QRlcan2-QsLZcG/s640/86.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Daddy! Yes, yes I'm ok, its ok, its ok!! I'm so glad to see you too!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon immediately calls Emma, because the first order of business is ironing out this mess.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrG_6NG8eCXf-3Qt_8F1IhLabYt4zeJsAY6QnuxM6OXrg6g85MZcIVwt340J6ZcOJY3xgWY7W8JpghrrXDuYs7xMtzu1QH56xVyTXUGM-zfbUBO31T8yO3EJDG-31_4UAxjXC5TZA6460/s1600/89.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrG_6NG8eCXf-3Qt_8F1IhLabYt4zeJsAY6QnuxM6OXrg6g85MZcIVwt340J6ZcOJY3xgWY7W8JpghrrXDuYs7xMtzu1QH56xVyTXUGM-zfbUBO31T8yO3EJDG-31_4UAxjXC5TZA6460/s640/89.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel's thinking, "Oh man, I'm so busted."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Simon talks a looong time with Emma, and to Isabel's surprise, Simon's very firm about Isabel staying there with him now that she's returned. Isabel can hear her Mom yelling on the other end, but then things go quiet for awhile, and after a few more words, her fate is decided.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtHZsD6Tdn_DlJzYEfDqEa2Fh4zhXGKDujs4ml-7HkJK6FbUmOceZ_GrsosDT2Y2-Pu8fZSOtvRXdJyWGUrg4UCT7If5k7hyphenhyphenxnSeZZd0IIlUnNUPu7ByUPxkNflH-HZTPi6Vhz1rgalgj/s1600/90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtHZsD6Tdn_DlJzYEfDqEa2Fh4zhXGKDujs4ml-7HkJK6FbUmOceZ_GrsosDT2Y2-Pu8fZSOtvRXdJyWGUrg4UCT7If5k7hyphenhyphenxnSeZZd0IIlUnNUPu7ByUPxkNflH-HZTPi6Vhz1rgalgj/s640/90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What do you want to do Emma, force her to run away again?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Emma's apparently so relieved that Isabel's safe, she relents and says Isabel can stay, she won't seek full custody when the divorce is final.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Simon gives the required lecture and threats for punishment if Isabel ever tries anything dangerous like this again!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCisC0Svdu0XXr5O9LJ0BsPFZ3DKYt7gKJT31GhMMitOnZniYP90yd_2dCYsK2pFaJc6_gcT9NOLMBM2cfcW5FhkZ5TiQT5W8xWlyOrE-RN3pTcNdgAJRN8ZjFuCOry5t8-oanAL2Cz_T/s1600/88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCisC0Svdu0XXr5O9LJ0BsPFZ3DKYt7gKJT31GhMMitOnZniYP90yd_2dCYsK2pFaJc6_gcT9NOLMBM2cfcW5FhkZ5TiQT5W8xWlyOrE-RN3pTcNdgAJRN8ZjFuCOry5t8-oanAL2Cz_T/s640/88.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was actually a pretty scary thing to do, but she's determined not to let it show!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And that night, everyone slept <i>safe and sound</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjBiQsTFHX3VROq-YH_wwI4IN5vBQ2ia8CJnCn1RqU6GHaurPO7gn3_F6cODTwlPHE5LIJI-40nClgPTJd0xTL4gLwv3Kxr7zCeAKev4twbCOezTh9__hNdVIxk0wLSsp4fQ8y4gtnTtS/s1600/94.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjBiQsTFHX3VROq-YH_wwI4IN5vBQ2ia8CJnCn1RqU6GHaurPO7gn3_F6cODTwlPHE5LIJI-40nClgPTJd0xTL4gLwv3Kxr7zCeAKev4twbCOezTh9__hNdVIxk0wLSsp4fQ8y4gtnTtS/s640/94.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little girl gets what she wants! (and enjoys sweet dreams in her very own bed.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Go on to read Ch. 1.14 - "Just Me and My Dad" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/10/114-just-me-and-my-dad.html">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
- I hope you enjoyed Isabel's first BIG adventure! This chapter was so much fun to write! I'd been planning it for some time. I originally thought of actually enrolling Isabel in boarding school and having her flunk out or demand to return after a short while, but the 'runaway' scene wrote itself when she struck up a convo with a police officer one evening outside the Flying V coffee shop!<br />
<br />
- The mailman attack scenes and burglaries were totally unscripted and really happened the same day Emma and Isabel supposedly 'left town' (Emma actually just spent the night at Melody's then I removed her haha) so I figured the fates must have decided this was a bad idea for Simon's family!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-57341413551533568292012-09-24T09:38:00.000-07:002012-09-28T19:15:39.521-07:001.12 - The Sink That Broke The Llama's Back<br />
The day of the Barnes fancy catered party arrives. Emma's very excited to show off some of her new dishes she's cooked as well as her fine produce. Darryl has asked her to be there early, so Emma leaves Isabel home with Simon. They're hanging out together on the porch when the mail arrives.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxc_zPlKQwe466X_kbKSwSkClINP4wjqLtQj8ifDKQ7fQWU8cD5Z6Bo49-KysHMSd8Sslcx37kWxXqPAvhSQCUdjSgrUHkJNVB63P-QwO1TO6fypmmiyUASjoHU4S1hDqgYH5dFEtTTomM/s1600/Screenshot-317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxc_zPlKQwe466X_kbKSwSkClINP4wjqLtQj8ifDKQ7fQWU8cD5Z6Bo49-KysHMSd8Sslcx37kWxXqPAvhSQCUdjSgrUHkJNVB63P-QwO1TO6fypmmiyUASjoHU4S1hDqgYH5dFEtTTomM/s640/Screenshot-317.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A strange Sim secret revealed ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Why do you insist on throwing the mail on the ground when the mailbox is <i>right there</i>??"<br />
<br />
The mailman looks embarrassed for a minute. "Uh. Sorry. Your wife usually takes it. Your, err, mailbox is glued shut." He's suddenly in a big hurry to get back to his mail route.<br />
<br />
How very odd.
<br />
<br />
But now. Simon <i>knows</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkLolNVrzkMaW0kVd7jaJe9JE2dqYiN1eTQ7EItJPoUmAXjuXiB0lNCpGXKO72Plxf6ZSo3ucGc_QPgzdxBMHuEhkwSyU5ZwqEH86ywe3ftBtrbT1L5D4_oo-fFBd5jP5quH3b3FgljEt/s1600/Screenshot-318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkLolNVrzkMaW0kVd7jaJe9JE2dqYiN1eTQ7EItJPoUmAXjuXiB0lNCpGXKO72Plxf6ZSo3ucGc_QPgzdxBMHuEhkwSyU5ZwqEH86ywe3ftBtrbT1L5D4_oo-fFBd5jP5quH3b3FgljEt/s640/Screenshot-318.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"She's been keeping this from me, all this time?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And without another word, pays the ovrdue bills. All of them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuttsEpAkeP665oI1xSqYo3Vmktymi2gMqlvBHrcfm55o81rtiRd_xnm1erOUzoM3eseCdiRKcBIOQ0tdLft2mKLsZlzuvXkH96Ps8YmaImShn_iOzsBH8MAxxV08Mc-yXFRXDsdqnda25/s1600/Screenshot-319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuttsEpAkeP665oI1xSqYo3Vmktymi2gMqlvBHrcfm55o81rtiRd_xnm1erOUzoM3eseCdiRKcBIOQ0tdLft2mKLsZlzuvXkH96Ps8YmaImShn_iOzsBH8MAxxV08Mc-yXFRXDsdqnda25/s640/Screenshot-319.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And this brings our savings back down to zero. Done."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Simon's nonchalant attitude hides the neurotic side... lurking, and waiting for a freak out. He makes a very bad decision to go immediately to the party at the Barnes house.<br />
<br />
Another all time social low point for Emma occurs, ranking right up there next to going into labor at a party. Getting into a huge fight with your husband about money. At a party full of rich people.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuugr62E_T1Y1R9fjRlvx9OFH3aOjnqJPVRMMdbio8Mx6XwUBLtv165fvQWKYT-JuStrH7n_SjZOnOovQwFRtUceE3eGIjH5reYdVSEfZOXqBKIA_RUR9PynbACBXwgkSG1Nm5joDqvZgz/s1600/Screenshot-291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuugr62E_T1Y1R9fjRlvx9OFH3aOjnqJPVRMMdbio8Mx6XwUBLtv165fvQWKYT-JuStrH7n_SjZOnOovQwFRtUceE3eGIjH5reYdVSEfZOXqBKIA_RUR9PynbACBXwgkSG1Nm5joDqvZgz/s640/Screenshot-291.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confronting your wife, at a party, with your kid watching, <i>minus 500 points buddy</i>!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma can't believe Simon would get so mad about anything worth making a scene at a party.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_ZRxYiN4tKtWWQ79FVOtORT0cbzRLQqpq3vGnGhCl2oECgq5ikfgtDRyhncvrE3F_318QCuj6fDOi5klEPhT-xau7lOQQMddLlLQrN_kqL867Mzqha6yws_p71-3C0vnj9Zc3FqLWJ1L/s1600/Screenshot-294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_ZRxYiN4tKtWWQ79FVOtORT0cbzRLQqpq3vGnGhCl2oECgq5ikfgtDRyhncvrE3F_318QCuj6fDOi5klEPhT-xau7lOQQMddLlLQrN_kqL867Mzqha6yws_p71-3C0vnj9Zc3FqLWJ1L/s640/Screenshot-294.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Simon this is a very <i>important </i>party. What are you doing here --- wearing a camouflage cutoff shirt?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But now its Simon's turn to really let Emma have it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWs8fElUeDpRODFZK0umdlE0Hwrabp5PRc8cx1rg3F3uO8Mvr3R4GymfQsSM1C44zBdPvo1Mj0mHlhodoYZ1aaFjym3_pFDE2fPBB8R2jVefKMpXy0V7LxOO_5m6eNrNoRmVl5aFmzZtB/s1600/Screenshot-298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWs8fElUeDpRODFZK0umdlE0Hwrabp5PRc8cx1rg3F3uO8Mvr3R4GymfQsSM1C44zBdPvo1Mj0mHlhodoYZ1aaFjym3_pFDE2fPBB8R2jVefKMpXy0V7LxOO_5m6eNrNoRmVl5aFmzZtB/s640/Screenshot-298.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In a mean mocking tone, "What's the matter Emma, your snooty friends might cut you off the VIP list?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And now that he's started, he can't stop. He accuses Emma of lying to him and hiding the truth about her credit card bills which he just paid out of their household retirement savings!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnyjHOe769Pe5NR7t7wP1GTfHD-oNfMtmpsemT5YhbP8z1H6FB3XB7ushmF2u7QsyypRI6lkGxO_LC_aeUpHpe0eRh5lBfMvBwUtNGP88shc-SIq_hDUn9C8zCOy4xRFPadqGXZbhpvOV/s1600/Screenshot-303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnyjHOe769Pe5NR7t7wP1GTfHD-oNfMtmpsemT5YhbP8z1H6FB3XB7ushmF2u7QsyypRI6lkGxO_LC_aeUpHpe0eRh5lBfMvBwUtNGP88shc-SIq_hDUn9C8zCOy4xRFPadqGXZbhpvOV/s640/Screenshot-303.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I thought we had a trusting marriage Emma, but clearly your priorities are somewhere else and not with me or Isabel!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon storms out of the party, leaving Emma to stammer and try to save face with everyone who had heard the whole thing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipz2SC7BkqPrmnXb90yxXdXT0c5uEQlogVx7vsXnk2EBVjxF_EzQWWbFdM-SbO1ewk2L-DUt3RDsk-AIhp81rgVV7qigTqGb8PdO2abkwSi7BjgbpO8U3DvffKCLZCFOplCXFV5eCc6BQU/s1600/Screenshot-304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipz2SC7BkqPrmnXb90yxXdXT0c5uEQlogVx7vsXnk2EBVjxF_EzQWWbFdM-SbO1ewk2L-DUt3RDsk-AIhp81rgVV7qigTqGb8PdO2abkwSi7BjgbpO8U3DvffKCLZCFOplCXFV5eCc6BQU/s640/Screenshot-304.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh wow, I'm so sorry. He's been really stressed out lately ..." <br />
Jaqueline Lanson and Darryl Jackson are both thinking: <i>"Awkward!"</i><br />
(Nevermind Melody back there in her swimsuit, it was <i>supposed </i>to have been a swimming party!!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel tries to change the subject too ...
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq5uspnhrZwIP-GPflJsQ7U9UszCk-9navX5c2lrZjhf9Rzb_yfVgL4inIzlIU9Y2lSijgIclRnz3tzQB9yfbUucEM0n9XRxiE_W75_g3jg7VC0s3M3hOvFq0SJcEffpspwLiydpvh7cC/s1600/Screenshot-284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq5uspnhrZwIP-GPflJsQ7U9UszCk-9navX5c2lrZjhf9Rzb_yfVgL4inIzlIU9Y2lSijgIclRnz3tzQB9yfbUucEM0n9XRxiE_W75_g3jg7VC0s3M3hOvFq0SJcEffpspwLiydpvh7cC/s640/Screenshot-284.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Daggins are THE <u>BESTEST</u>. Someday I'm going to find one and <i>fly away</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Things really start to go downhill now. Emma doesn't even come home most evenings, staying late at Melody's or with her other friends while Simon stays home with Isabel.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCB6mLKgT40QKtC4b1KFQfqY9loFkxAbA-vNwQCOXWLSb0yL7LnxMxpOg96xblr-3Zfft4WK4ncZ1yvAXxxltKHPHyU2V3iMYk2blGvsG-xZqY5xdwR29SRtWTBDPYz0woBSHGaDWVk3E/s1600/Screenshot-385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCB6mLKgT40QKtC4b1KFQfqY9loFkxAbA-vNwQCOXWLSb0yL7LnxMxpOg96xblr-3Zfft4WK4ncZ1yvAXxxltKHPHyU2V3iMYk2blGvsG-xZqY5xdwR29SRtWTBDPYz0woBSHGaDWVk3E/s640/Screenshot-385.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sneaking upstairs like a teenager out after curfew is pretty miserable.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon takes care of Isabel's early morning wake up and breakfast every day before he heads to work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbZG4RD7yhB2HoNMIoY80rz_sKH0EoKprYONeL65ye-8ylL-cjXDCUothaZ8Wx0UxuovrRVweK2VKwzlSmZ-Fio8aR3ZfFYkO9uBugAh5RC2dyKCJJWUlmtIMtUPd4LvBgjpKnMKIO-La/s1600/Screenshot-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbZG4RD7yhB2HoNMIoY80rz_sKH0EoKprYONeL65ye-8ylL-cjXDCUothaZ8Wx0UxuovrRVweK2VKwzlSmZ-Fio8aR3ZfFYkO9uBugAh5RC2dyKCJJWUlmtIMtUPd4LvBgjpKnMKIO-La/s640/Screenshot-28.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"DADA!! ... Daggin!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel can climb out of her crib <i>and </i>her high chair now (clever monkey). Simon's glad he's sleeping downstairs to hear her wake up for more reasons than just avoiding Emma.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihuT5nxxXcsBx0lV2VO64TmQ0yLw-1lqjrMmPvoRnbcSP2mTFp_ehyphenhyphen77S6I3MS45BlAlgtI6kjWnbax3ZmKxrVmDe15kBXNj0cF1YwwjpM8ZxJlUzjb5GyDAdZozgzgRwOmulT0TASoAtr/s1600/Screenshot-404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihuT5nxxXcsBx0lV2VO64TmQ0yLw-1lqjrMmPvoRnbcSP2mTFp_ehyphenhyphen77S6I3MS45BlAlgtI6kjWnbax3ZmKxrVmDe15kBXNj0cF1YwwjpM8ZxJlUzjb5GyDAdZozgzgRwOmulT0TASoAtr/s640/Screenshot-404.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What? I am just an innocent baby, playing in my food!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
However, everyone does keep a closer eye on Isabel, especially outside.<br />
<br />
Once she learns to walk ... she literally starts to <i>run</i>. Everywhere! She seems fearless, and loves being outdoors more than anything in the world. She cries if she's brought indoors except to sleep!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogsT0tKd3ZtQcmNPFl4FWGzRNvQUYjlXq2Vgjvk34PoY5Kfe-QsiqljXtQSE_EhwG0ES9cBD6xn-ACEECMe8nCg5B4nCX-ZzrxQOoGyHP4UxVNk5yJnqFhFob5rOZsvKY529OkVVnWYB8/s1600/Screenshot-438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogsT0tKd3ZtQcmNPFl4FWGzRNvQUYjlXq2Vgjvk34PoY5Kfe-QsiqljXtQSE_EhwG0ES9cBD6xn-ACEECMe8nCg5B4nCX-ZzrxQOoGyHP4UxVNk5yJnqFhFob5rOZsvKY529OkVVnWYB8/s640/Screenshot-438.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid keeps a very close eye on the little pup who runs on two legs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma still takes Isabel out daily for their social rounds. But Isabel is much less happy about that now and often tries to run away or climb out of her stroller.<br />
<br />
Emma tries not to worry too much, Isabel couldn't possibly know how strained things were between she and Simon now, right?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxK3pmYHUQ-6PqnK7CksX_U933JgcFi8ZKEwYMxD42hlHjLLLt50ugwyyGSyXv-gL37ZlFuLqejI0npShpX4yPbTaLYz0Eg-F7L-fXzuefAaAPgwLGJdG832FvADXvgvNxW1GJsB2EwBPc/s1600/Screenshot-181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxK3pmYHUQ-6PqnK7CksX_U933JgcFi8ZKEwYMxD42hlHjLLLt50ugwyyGSyXv-gL37ZlFuLqejI0npShpX4yPbTaLYz0Eg-F7L-fXzuefAaAPgwLGJdG832FvADXvgvNxW1GJsB2EwBPc/s640/Screenshot-181.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But Isabel <i>KNOWS</i>. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma tries to cheerfully plow on with life, attempting to maintain some semblance of normalcy even though she spends all day with Isabel and Isabel spends all evening with Simon. The two are never together with her.<br />
<br />
Emma potty trains Isabel, who thankfully turns out to take to it very quickly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYve4M2Bz_clvgZb4GaCS0rMqGevfJ5Hz1Ylf9IA0ACiAQK0Jc1Pa5uhvgmBzGkF36Vat4ycHlSR3gpOftNBjTkhcPhC97hn4jzOx-lcvGxyg29h0kz339UcT54Rv3Nf73GUI-oEGMdypX/s1600/Screenshot-395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYve4M2Bz_clvgZb4GaCS0rMqGevfJ5Hz1Ylf9IA0ACiAQK0Jc1Pa5uhvgmBzGkF36Vat4ycHlSR3gpOftNBjTkhcPhC97hn4jzOx-lcvGxyg29h0kz339UcT54Rv3Nf73GUI-oEGMdypX/s640/Screenshot-395.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Daggin??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And she buys her some picture books, to teach her counting, and more words.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyACKydJEi6B5v3q9l_a74iYbnzblGUEIjvu9pUffLHhY3opqSU0UYO9TeTw3CWPHH4GucLs050jtkk-9YKp5G0PWHGmeN77RjfqsMBTL0BBeghQsXFolETVwQC-HASwqkvdlGJCmq1oot/s1600/Screenshot-401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyACKydJEi6B5v3q9l_a74iYbnzblGUEIjvu9pUffLHhY3opqSU0UYO9TeTw3CWPHH4GucLs050jtkk-9YKp5G0PWHGmeN77RjfqsMBTL0BBeghQsXFolETVwQC-HASwqkvdlGJCmq1oot/s640/Screenshot-401.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Twooo Daggin!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma has no idea why Isabel keeps saying "Daggin" ... though she taught her to talk, not every word makes sense.<br />
<br />
It's the first thing she asks for in the morning when she wakes up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLwwPBdISiakp76SVzlG7cDV9wTiEud9f6cxdqtScCEly_8L6O3OQ6Rfvr3zA2Ctu0ITPd0-HgRhuEUn6J-K96-PTv7S5aCVW2Sy8tkan5GQIYx0ygtKZmVJgfHwk2XVOvpFLhSlLivL6/s1600/Screenshot-393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLwwPBdISiakp76SVzlG7cDV9wTiEud9f6cxdqtScCEly_8L6O3OQ6Rfvr3zA2Ctu0ITPd0-HgRhuEUn6J-K96-PTv7S5aCVW2Sy8tkan5GQIYx0ygtKZmVJgfHwk2XVOvpFLhSlLivL6/s640/Screenshot-393.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mama! Daggin!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Isabel keeps crying for "Daggin" all the time, and Emma's frustrated on top of already being stressed out about Simon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvTnQiQdE-bo9p0QZk7qIM_D8b5Ul30z4pASKCSIwuKUDoemrk7UBlq-cNYQPRZqa4iXE1D40NvJHcHFELd8LhOOsJ-uk6s_X_AOKX8F61fNfnEIPuB2qiTzyGcSM3RNCuO1jM9eZsdVp/s1600/Screenshot-402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvTnQiQdE-bo9p0QZk7qIM_D8b5Ul30z4pASKCSIwuKUDoemrk7UBlq-cNYQPRZqa4iXE1D40NvJHcHFELd8LhOOsJ-uk6s_X_AOKX8F61fNfnEIPuB2qiTzyGcSM3RNCuO1jM9eZsdVp/s640/Screenshot-402.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Waaah, Daaaggin. Daaaaagin!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Daddy knows what "daggin" means ...<br />
<br />
He's been taking Isabel along on his zoological study trips around town.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1UjPDC7ZkFRzj-S_pGrLoCEnHp_XPyQ0F21Bdkzh-hIZWhV7m8LngvJJjxw9PsjrPjvc-PRlc4wcEyYyBky1_0v_CNLUwPmfdeE_ptk7br73eXBeN5mGh00wwhvcWZxCZUNrpCpepgg7/s1600/Screenshot-350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1UjPDC7ZkFRzj-S_pGrLoCEnHp_XPyQ0F21Bdkzh-hIZWhV7m8LngvJJjxw9PsjrPjvc-PRlc4wcEyYyBky1_0v_CNLUwPmfdeE_ptk7br73eXBeN5mGh00wwhvcWZxCZUNrpCpepgg7/s640/Screenshot-350.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And this, Isabel, is a little horned toad, which is actually a reptile, not an amphibian"<br />
Isabel: "<b>DAGGIN</b>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Isabel has her very own special one ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGZlBh-cJlDRgiO5WhAokPbTVJ1NeHnUwxgIRiL0-IU8q6SCiEaSgfT9B4Rj9VFNZmEzge6PuhEkzZGdcgOiCdF4ii3QVE3xCyd8Y0svtnWn1yOu_JZnGiBj6DC-tWnvWXn718y1QQGty/s1600/Screenshot-353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGZlBh-cJlDRgiO5WhAokPbTVJ1NeHnUwxgIRiL0-IU8q6SCiEaSgfT9B4Rj9VFNZmEzge6PuhEkzZGdcgOiCdF4ii3QVE3xCyd8Y0svtnWn1yOu_JZnGiBj6DC-tWnvWXn718y1QQGty/s640/Screenshot-353.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dada Daggin! Izzy Daggin!" ...but Simon still insists "No this is not a dragon, just a very distant cousin."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel squeals with babyish delight as she looks up to see the '<i>real</i>' dragons ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilzcnnD5aZaxW4zu92VvO4hIblU4MOAu8gaVBnkaB3bpa0zhFCyYiNjtvURgobbP6p6Zypffg8O1orXg875v6KuOkdci36r2kK7D-Q8cxrZKe-IQLirOG9K8UhE9ZX06wlI3yEZ6IPFCu/s1600/Screenshot-357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilzcnnD5aZaxW4zu92VvO4hIblU4MOAu8gaVBnkaB3bpa0zhFCyYiNjtvURgobbP6p6Zypffg8O1orXg875v6KuOkdci36r2kK7D-Q8cxrZKe-IQLirOG9K8UhE9ZX06wlI3yEZ6IPFCu/s640/Screenshot-357.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"DAAAGINS!" (And now we find out Isabel is brave!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is now Isabel's <i>favorite place</i> <i>in her whole tiny world of existence</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrFLjgJw01YvSE8eAzk5vzOWfIIF4lR7kl4z8RO-raJX9wL44gCGLcHDpg8yxG_AI-WbvbDL17yRuTqpco2de_mgmEEtNRepeNcWFTeoSQWeqcaDk8JCYX1b2DEAyOj5iANycSHf6z30d/s1600/Screenshot-360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrFLjgJw01YvSE8eAzk5vzOWfIIF4lR7kl4z8RO-raJX9wL44gCGLcHDpg8yxG_AI-WbvbDL17yRuTqpco2de_mgmEEtNRepeNcWFTeoSQWeqcaDk8JCYX1b2DEAyOj5iANycSHf6z30d/s640/Screenshot-360.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oddly creepy (and closed down) Fossilized Dinosaur Park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today's a good day. Simon gets a call from his boss. His internship is complete, he's now obtained his goal (and lifetime wish) to become a Zoologist!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1jBuI3QB1SGyV50m8_pC0Bi0unainNKXEsP0COyZHdZ4CsGN23B24c-72E0cfMdLnIDBZFF9MlW1dUiYuk3k0HUuEBTBZNtN1c2_SXP7NnRNRkMICabNJ1yiKFeTlzt-Kjuw0-JiZTnUI/s1600/Screenshot-330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1jBuI3QB1SGyV50m8_pC0Bi0unainNKXEsP0COyZHdZ4CsGN23B24c-72E0cfMdLnIDBZFF9MlW1dUiYuk3k0HUuEBTBZNtN1c2_SXP7NnRNRkMICabNJ1yiKFeTlzt-Kjuw0-JiZTnUI/s640/Screenshot-330.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"20 different animals caught, tagged, and released back into the wild!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He gets a promotion at work too.<br />
<br />
And promptly freaks out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7IyCyTGx7kM2O0FP-GfZGrf8ft6ExXiCmYXkHe1DYtU2c1qaAuYgDhdRG8SUyXnmeZgMImOLOZrSy9TegsElgq6go1-9UucKM1TgBwfyUkcrONvOBX7h3Hdn9Eo_DXcjWGGh4O_xn_nB3/s1600/Screenshot-328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7IyCyTGx7kM2O0FP-GfZGrf8ft6ExXiCmYXkHe1DYtU2c1qaAuYgDhdRG8SUyXnmeZgMImOLOZrSy9TegsElgq6go1-9UucKM1TgBwfyUkcrONvOBX7h3Hdn9Eo_DXcjWGGh4O_xn_nB3/s640/Screenshot-328.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Zabadadoodeee!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Clearly, the stress of work and a strained marriage is getting to Simon.<br />
<br />
Home life isn't so great either.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8rmHTaF7gTtlKXEu4RcOLfy90bGSUlqKUxWU6LJvaXmOKa3G_2NWxO_qXlo93AktTdX3YPb437D027BCB9XWck_7AIpKHLM4rntYm5YoUX4ZVMwpmf39W5QU8tjdkVCdgw7j2IVsq4x3/s1600/Screenshot-414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8rmHTaF7gTtlKXEu4RcOLfy90bGSUlqKUxWU6LJvaXmOKa3G_2NWxO_qXlo93AktTdX3YPb437D027BCB9XWck_7AIpKHLM4rntYm5YoUX4ZVMwpmf39W5QU8tjdkVCdgw7j2IVsq4x3/s640/Screenshot-414.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma comes home to find the dog, and Isabel, soaked and playing in the water as Simon tries to repair the sink - again.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And once again, the fighting starts up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkq0rJBYqai0XbVqPjAiOXWqnBYhv1azHU5hdvCZrj5ACJapXbev9ZnqH-YyX5J4Npi5OOsrJrOUESgyIXdlIzQ7zr-4r0f34-jWEnL-JyM4rF3mPAOtlWI18uejrnnCnYWz6QWxcihoGI/s1600/Screenshot-419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkq0rJBYqai0XbVqPjAiOXWqnBYhv1azHU5hdvCZrj5ACJapXbev9ZnqH-YyX5J4Npi5OOsrJrOUESgyIXdlIzQ7zr-4r0f34-jWEnL-JyM4rF3mPAOtlWI18uejrnnCnYWz6QWxcihoGI/s640/Screenshot-419.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't hear you Emma."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And goes from bad to worse.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYql7sFYvrfcmQ8C-vcYjl0Iy8skrkIUZsmk2cK1fVGM-NgfQhyuP3RAr2rZ6hNbPsLJRQUrDpsT8klyGOreCoz78ClPil-mMZByx5LVLHmz8okOG3PWOxRfa_Ghq22ScOfnulja1erBgC/s1600/Screenshot-434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYql7sFYvrfcmQ8C-vcYjl0Iy8skrkIUZsmk2cK1fVGM-NgfQhyuP3RAr2rZ6hNbPsLJRQUrDpsT8klyGOreCoz78ClPil-mMZByx5LVLHmz8okOG3PWOxRfa_Ghq22ScOfnulja1erBgC/s640/Screenshot-434.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Noooo...you didn't <i>really </i>just go there!?!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Emma's lost all her fight. There's just no reason to keep this up anymore, is there?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlxBFUUExH9A8ZWil1qn7HFKl1l3XYXQF6lAFMR9aQtmodmBxwCiRL_Rf7qxtsgWZ5zup5V95E_-d5_VltvDWO8JC71ry9J8V1H2kSHkuXjAZKpRlmZoqH8-0eFpkRiGcZcDlyjEk0THm/s1600/Screenshot-424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlxBFUUExH9A8ZWil1qn7HFKl1l3XYXQF6lAFMR9aQtmodmBxwCiRL_Rf7qxtsgWZ5zup5V95E_-d5_VltvDWO8JC71ry9J8V1H2kSHkuXjAZKpRlmZoqH8-0eFpkRiGcZcDlyjEk0THm/s640/Screenshot-424.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<i>Do you even love me anymore Simon</i>?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The awkward silence that follows is unbearable.<br />
<br />
Simon <i>does </i>love her, but just like her, unhappiness is making it hard to find.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyeYTtvZgoczZZNzo6MPKrPd0vacjJqiE3VCL0hoeQRDKiibZVgX_bZh6fqcE1wjVdKdqAU9K6XsecRSRoi4D4q-_yRsS1KwycvbhTcffFbnrcQGdCWlcfM64yMUW-ZwkWbw0ArBrbtYCD/s1600/Screenshot-425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyeYTtvZgoczZZNzo6MPKrPd0vacjJqiE3VCL0hoeQRDKiibZVgX_bZh6fqcE1wjVdKdqAU9K6XsecRSRoi4D4q-_yRsS1KwycvbhTcffFbnrcQGdCWlcfM64yMUW-ZwkWbw0ArBrbtYCD/s640/Screenshot-425.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The sudden realization that its over.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7h6ML0NfRIPdruC7bthZpPpkydtOYJ4sccsvhfz5LnBLOKxy1qtk9i7UmreCwbIDZvspfQsuI6EqAGLnInPM9XuK987JhLgufuEOte78ivkidfIGoYnGmF0DO929wlZlCQzBvO-gCOoDY/s1600/Screenshot-430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7h6ML0NfRIPdruC7bthZpPpkydtOYJ4sccsvhfz5LnBLOKxy1qtk9i7UmreCwbIDZvspfQsuI6EqAGLnInPM9XuK987JhLgufuEOte78ivkidfIGoYnGmF0DO929wlZlCQzBvO-gCOoDY/s640/Screenshot-430.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Emma makes an awkward phone call to her Mother the very next morning.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bno98WdS8InWf0LR_vDro0TNl8XHlNbiG8IOgQi8BIqSSas5GW7O5PKhDMAaY17TfTzvTt4PeV4bA3liyuHHCfsZGbfpxt36eVWGnNdaaO9eNLOZrTKeqhRKLtMC0PRNmGfFNSOLXese/s1600/Screenshot-260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bno98WdS8InWf0LR_vDro0TNl8XHlNbiG8IOgQi8BIqSSas5GW7O5PKhDMAaY17TfTzvTt4PeV4bA3liyuHHCfsZGbfpxt36eVWGnNdaaO9eNLOZrTKeqhRKLtMC0PRNmGfFNSOLXese/s640/Screenshot-260.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hi Mom, its Emma. Can Isabel and I come stay with you and Dad for awhile?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
All the details come spilling out now. The fights, the lack of money, Simon's strict rules about buying things and never having visitors. Of course Emma's Mother thinks this sounds absolutely terrible. This is no way for her daughter to live.</div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8nqS2wMruhIUTc6TIz7E66MqR282TrXqCo1NKaVpfqgQutgo4LKKBf1CiyO7Evoo0awOKEKdHic1WUnoWWv4vRs60oHf7oFCEQY6o5x_x5cmUEqT8vO3-vsKBVQUVrNXvrNq09xIIA29/s1600/Screenshot-261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8nqS2wMruhIUTc6TIz7E66MqR282TrXqCo1NKaVpfqgQutgo4LKKBf1CiyO7Evoo0awOKEKdHic1WUnoWWv4vRs60oHf7oFCEQY6o5x_x5cmUEqT8vO3-vsKBVQUVrNXvrNq09xIIA29/s640/Screenshot-261.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No, things aren't going so well. I think I'd like to start a new career - maybe go to culinary school or something?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
Emma's Mother is delighted to have her daughter and granddaughter return to St. Claire and they work out all the details. Isabel's birthday is in a few days, and they will make the trip soon after that, before she starts school.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9MxMO-1jeLukFJCDqoAz7yxV_7OjOWegqQLEF05o4GPaxLjVzE0BOP-DQNMK0JUIHjEso7Fg1ZaiYoYE19FLN1ZzxLYSp7gJGspSflHVOpETnNGiioI1aQP1Q9uT9zPR8oY-jvYCpaXm/s1600/Screenshot-259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9MxMO-1jeLukFJCDqoAz7yxV_7OjOWegqQLEF05o4GPaxLjVzE0BOP-DQNMK0JUIHjEso7Fg1ZaiYoYE19FLN1ZzxLYSp7gJGspSflHVOpETnNGiioI1aQP1Q9uT9zPR8oY-jvYCpaXm/s640/Screenshot-259.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We're going to go see the big city Isabel - you will love it!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But Isabel firmly lets her Mom know, even as a toddler, that this idea does not make her happy.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFMtgT3V317wnEQXAgDweFaVHCaqtNquzc0EPOphJE7hxiFMop4Pq1qbCxFYm1JMapTQsuhSvqYfsoJm3w8TAUcSayNYi5Jlzl7cvW4Koa0Oj85wTNQy-o-PTjRPHOy6FfQpNQoxBbdNN/s1600/Screenshot-258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFMtgT3V317wnEQXAgDweFaVHCaqtNquzc0EPOphJE7hxiFMop4Pq1qbCxFYm1JMapTQsuhSvqYfsoJm3w8TAUcSayNYi5Jlzl7cvW4Koa0Oj85wTNQy-o-PTjRPHOy6FfQpNQoxBbdNN/s640/Screenshot-258.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mama Sad. Izzy Sad"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is definitely not going to be an easy departure.<br />
<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
Read on to Ch. 1.13 - "If You Love Something, Set It Free ..." <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/113-if-you-love-something-set-it-free.html">HERE</a>!<br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
So sorry for dragging this one out!! It's my founder family. I invariably always get attached to them the most, and spend a long time developing their story - and this is my first time trying to write it in story format though I've done legacies up to around 5 gens before on my own. Rolling "second chance" has made it a harder beginning than the happy "Grandma and Grandpa" scenario one typically wants for the heir - so things start out rough for little Isabel - BUT - as you can see, she's <i>tough </i>(and has a mind of her own already) - she'll do great. She got Brave and Loves Outdoors for her first two traits. =)<br />
<br />
Also - I probably started Emma and Simon breaking up too early based on how I want my plot to go. This first run is really trial and error like I said, new to the storytelling part. I think I probably should have waited until Isabel was through toddler days. SO many things to do with the walking/talking/books/potty routine which I really wanted her Mama to do.<br />
<br />
So yeah... Generation One will be a long one for me, but the legacy <b>will </b>move on - haha!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-75597289264542705672012-09-23T13:55:00.001-07:002012-09-24T09:39:52.946-07:001.11 - Let Sleeping Dogs LieThe Salad Days are passing swiftly and the Twist family are getting busier as their lives become more entwined with those in their new town. Simon's job is now very demanding as he puts in a full day at the science lab as well as all the extra hours his zoology internship requires. He has been coming home late almost every day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ88TkGz3JZ3vsL9ZyA6jK8hWHoGOLgKwF1RN5WlvTGJgzepUJTuGgX8AMfkJz_hTf45AsMTPUOvlaN8jBd5svPZQg5ECjzRd8__9aERaKam8eygVTflsVQdVz3AQd2vaa6wFUhzTJC7M/s1600/Screenshot-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ88TkGz3JZ3vsL9ZyA6jK8hWHoGOLgKwF1RN5WlvTGJgzepUJTuGgX8AMfkJz_hTf45AsMTPUOvlaN8jBd5svPZQg5ECjzRd8__9aERaKam8eygVTflsVQdVz3AQd2vaa6wFUhzTJC7M/s640/Screenshot-149.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Gotta run Emma, long day ahead. Sorry I wasn't much help with the garden today, see you this evening."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's not happy with how slowly Simon's career is progressing. She likes the instant results she's getting from her daily trips to the grocery with another load of produce fresh picked from her booming garden even though its not nearly enough to keep up with her recent round of expensive clothing purchases ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9z38tdsVu5Q3uhdm3jfnrp3Jl9n4-4dAWEI7rIdHvhmC3C7zWtU4HYv_BVibkOK3VayhmQapCqpHKCHRrENPHulEUpuKrp2r1Tk6B3AnDzSxLCtBF796QwI3APpTRz8CObt676bjQwxp/s1600/Screenshot-152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9z38tdsVu5Q3uhdm3jfnrp3Jl9n4-4dAWEI7rIdHvhmC3C7zWtU4HYv_BVibkOK3VayhmQapCqpHKCHRrENPHulEUpuKrp2r1Tk6B3AnDzSxLCtBF796QwI3APpTRz8CObt676bjQwxp/s640/Screenshot-152.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid seems to know something bad is brewing on the horizon. Dogs have the sixth sense you know ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma is the one who spends most of the time teaching little Isabel to talk, because of course talking is very important for a girl's future success in Emma's opinion!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwXVSam5mu3djwpGatjJSmYwlKwdD-8UNTQzulWjcV8Hm1htcEXazoXGeyd23UnbXAOPaft7g6fWSs1RzrQG_szfKo1y4seO_-yrNGyXVP6eW8vGB4FlcVsvnS1-wAdbijr-oWY_wKUgp/s1600/Screenshot-159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwXVSam5mu3djwpGatjJSmYwlKwdD-8UNTQzulWjcV8Hm1htcEXazoXGeyd23UnbXAOPaft7g6fWSs1RzrQG_szfKo1y4seO_-yrNGyXVP6eW8vGB4FlcVsvnS1-wAdbijr-oWY_wKUgp/s640/Screenshot-159.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma: "Mama does not want to take out the stinky garbage!"<br />
Isabel: "TEENKY GOBBID!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel is very smart. It only takes her a day or two to figure out the block sorting toy her Grandparents sent. She has lots of time to work on it while Mama gardens.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXe717EQ60z_9woODQTWeCpHJqEWAIBsB_ISLGyzFYq8v4wouX3mZIoXRKmRsveyibQJnspGC7xd8qHnAEug17OSch6JEHW3mCM0j9cQ7hyS2I1HJNTzJulxI-iGFaCQBB-YEWNRdzPop/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXe717EQ60z_9woODQTWeCpHJqEWAIBsB_ISLGyzFYq8v4wouX3mZIoXRKmRsveyibQJnspGC7xd8qHnAEug17OSch6JEHW3mCM0j9cQ7hyS2I1HJNTzJulxI-iGFaCQBB-YEWNRdzPop/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is EASY!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's organic produce business is booming and she spends most of the day tending it and to little Isabel's every need. Simon's absence just means she spends more time socializing with her rich friends around town, or shopping for new outfits for herself and Emma from expensive catalogs.<br />
<br />
While hanging around the local coffee shop, Emma gets the chance to meet Darryl Jackson, one of the town's very few celebrities. Darryl runs a very successful catering business and is working towards becoming a five star Chef.<br />
<br />
Emma immediately decides to try and impress him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lrS3SVG6VkLYoFfL80aidwMHTElnhfMPYjst_MXZZNpnUsXdYkHpDOC4ztAbgW3EOIILW9PJWZB3O7XeIw9Jub3_4Ht-MN4fwOrYfdcjmXRTTMRbtErrutzf3CfBY2av8H8TvCztXFg1/s1600/Screenshot-272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lrS3SVG6VkLYoFfL80aidwMHTElnhfMPYjst_MXZZNpnUsXdYkHpDOC4ztAbgW3EOIILW9PJWZB3O7XeIw9Jub3_4Ht-MN4fwOrYfdcjmXRTTMRbtErrutzf3CfBY2av8H8TvCztXFg1/s640/Screenshot-272.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Tell me why I should give you and your <i>organic produce</i> the time of day ... hmmm?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
While Emma could certainly have expounded upon the superior qualities of chemical free vegetables for health reasons (that would have been Simon's tactic), she decides instead to use the proven techniques she knows work best with other snobbish people ... ego stroking and giving them something they really desire.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5poXg2zfEVXupYgL7XeYQaNrGA6wteC_Jyfoow8L_L_gAr56yUIL9zx5EhNQXIR6bTxRN-91VyldUODJQ8Klb-sHQtb550X2gKh0tKO1ReIOdhaIKMtOAuUhdxZS7UdOfq9JWekJ3Bqt/s1600/Screenshot-274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5poXg2zfEVXupYgL7XeYQaNrGA6wteC_Jyfoow8L_L_gAr56yUIL9zx5EhNQXIR6bTxRN-91VyldUODJQ8Klb-sHQtb550X2gKh0tKO1ReIOdhaIKMtOAuUhdxZS7UdOfq9JWekJ3Bqt/s640/Screenshot-274.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You know, I happen to be very close friends with the Barnes family and they're about to throw a <i>lavish socialite </i>gathering for all the top names in town. Perhaps I could get you a new client?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And just like magic, the attitude of certain snobbish chefs instantly changes!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg921xk8t4cxzl6dTtCOJhhLiuFo_AfiS_cTSnqBRSKBFAsifgWc3cJmj-PCbsOu9OK2xLQr6IccgZPFcYJF9vpLGSDJojtdZGHSD-lt7nZgtxtdpkXR4uepacstRe1OG3RUreDz57dFQYu/s1600/Screenshot-273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg921xk8t4cxzl6dTtCOJhhLiuFo_AfiS_cTSnqBRSKBFAsifgWc3cJmj-PCbsOu9OK2xLQr6IccgZPFcYJF9vpLGSDJojtdZGHSD-lt7nZgtxtdpkXR4uepacstRe1OG3RUreDz57dFQYu/s640/Screenshot-273.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You know, I think this could be the beginning of a very <i>equitable </i>relationship Mrs. Emma Twist!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Darryl makes a deal with Emma that if she can get the Barnes family to hire him for a full seven course catered dinner for her party, he'll go into partnership with her for her produce and other ingredients.<br />
<br />
Emma is appropriately excited and gushes with gratitude, which Darryl eats right up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDvAQQlLAmJlXZIhew-Anj2grS4p3Jw3pJmxVtChcki3a2PQD1nEnkREpO8T1Zy-fBNREwOVtu7iBiG20woy1WM-NvhYwP5kPqCfh8RuBVM8KNV8M1_MFOcSL7iWwysTekIuZlOoyG3kX/s1600/Screenshot-278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDvAQQlLAmJlXZIhew-Anj2grS4p3Jw3pJmxVtChcki3a2PQD1nEnkREpO8T1Zy-fBNREwOVtu7iBiG20woy1WM-NvhYwP5kPqCfh8RuBVM8KNV8M1_MFOcSL7iWwysTekIuZlOoyG3kX/s640/Screenshot-278.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh that would be soooo wonderful, the big break I've been hoping for in my business. I'll make this happen!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Out and about for the rest of the day, Emma goes to the Steele ranch, excited to share her news and gossip with Susannah.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1a_g8xkZPPV1nUp0cObSnWYVn6X8ZjakDgDaluq2EWIBXS3RpIDchciVIDO-avY1ABWdk6X__UZyxIXgqwdqHrEQEd0W1X5K_1f3XQC2wsVckHIjjQSpAzUCKJAuRHlVSWl_bmb6uISAL/s1600/Screenshot-126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1a_g8xkZPPV1nUp0cObSnWYVn6X8ZjakDgDaluq2EWIBXS3RpIDchciVIDO-avY1ABWdk6X__UZyxIXgqwdqHrEQEd0W1X5K_1f3XQC2wsVckHIjjQSpAzUCKJAuRHlVSWl_bmb6uISAL/s640/Screenshot-126.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"DADA!" (Daddy likes lizards)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They go to lots of playgroups at the Steele and Barnes households as Emma's now best friends with the wealthy Susannah and Melody.<br />
<br />
Isabel's the only baby at the Steele ranch now, because lovable little Chase grew up into a handsome young boy ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ETefQT2ZdCfPeWJQ8Z4yI9_ySyQ7OPC3nBGLqHK9-AocT_Wz6RnINybRl9uBgjYUwT8EfMgo7IaMpgSCwGP1KSS2KZQDwTQvkDIsmuhND24deBZiA37RCtIYRFWSIN3SOfpzTOLWGsVQ/s1600/Screenshot-101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ETefQT2ZdCfPeWJQ8Z4yI9_ySyQ7OPC3nBGLqHK9-AocT_Wz6RnINybRl9uBgjYUwT8EfMgo7IaMpgSCwGP1KSS2KZQDwTQvkDIsmuhND24deBZiA37RCtIYRFWSIN3SOfpzTOLWGsVQ/s640/Screenshot-101.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I do <i>NOT</i> hug babies!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Daddy shows up just as Isabel predicted to her toy alligator. He's helping Marc Steele deliver the foal that gave his Mama such a hard time during her pregnancy. Everything turned out just fine, but the mare has no milk due to whatever illness she had, so Simon gets to bottle feed the new colt too which is a rare treat.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMbjiCpeftYFP6Hf_CS2df8I5fZCSfCRC6OIW7LZmQTK2yZRMBJaWXJiDthYdvnkvB3DjiqrvjAGS6G0whYromAVLV_wO8zU5MCqp1iSH0zdJkS7Ar52k7lmuWz0tQkU_20u4UKWRRttz/s1600/Screenshot-130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMbjiCpeftYFP6Hf_CS2df8I5fZCSfCRC6OIW7LZmQTK2yZRMBJaWXJiDthYdvnkvB3DjiqrvjAGS6G0whYromAVLV_wO8zU5MCqp1iSH0zdJkS7Ar52k7lmuWz0tQkU_20u4UKWRRttz/s640/Screenshot-130.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Easy boy, take it slow at first."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Even Cupid gets some much needed doggie socializing in. The kennel where he was born is just across the road from the Steele's horse ranch so he makes a surprise visit. He meets his brother Comet, who he has not seen since they were puppies!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pFHzJbR7Isl2rcJtbIgYxcTb31Ydtn_TpWuJE5fD1bC46cYdJ2AuR2CCCJGD36HiOsa4ePwoYwJu0JjEofifNbAVwMKZUb9tmoRLF-lSLD-OHrY523TvawoE35NWM_rBnKV6zbRIsvV2/s1600/Screenshot-135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pFHzJbR7Isl2rcJtbIgYxcTb31Ydtn_TpWuJE5fD1bC46cYdJ2AuR2CCCJGD36HiOsa4ePwoYwJu0JjEofifNbAVwMKZUb9tmoRLF-lSLD-OHrY523TvawoE35NWM_rBnKV6zbRIsvV2/s640/Screenshot-135.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey you smell just like me - we're <i>brothers</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And has a joyous reunion with his Mother Ebony ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIvjmPSjrp284T9OfC4VJz_V4qsU-IF79yKVnVKY-kS2d0sMRGp8nbnzaLFIckm5segOuabHRzuqNLYar374LPtm3NQM1pKRuMrMjZACjWDHpMVEa7c1BXY1ynYWn6Lk30jGtwikLMcq0/s1600/Screenshot-138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIvjmPSjrp284T9OfC4VJz_V4qsU-IF79yKVnVKY-kS2d0sMRGp8nbnzaLFIckm5segOuabHRzuqNLYar374LPtm3NQM1pKRuMrMjZACjWDHpMVEa7c1BXY1ynYWn6Lk30jGtwikLMcq0/s640/Screenshot-138.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Cupid!! You've grown so BIG!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Melody Barnes shows up, about to pop with her second baby and carrying little Bethany. She's grown to love Emma's dog so much, she decides to speak with the breeder about adopting one of the pups for her own household. They need a good watch dog after a burglar recently broke in and stole some things.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBqVs2aYXsjP27kZuUhlsFhWACeR0z9dV6whuxzE0fwGt_03RETpgpqWSCmbwpT0r-oDzQmyOM2vq8EqI_lS4UqO78smI6ByVbbtwtiLpwWBjfxtuK3MHG6eNAsbZaq5sNWF_m-avqN1h/s1600/Screenshot-139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBqVs2aYXsjP27kZuUhlsFhWACeR0z9dV6whuxzE0fwGt_03RETpgpqWSCmbwpT0r-oDzQmyOM2vq8EqI_lS4UqO78smI6ByVbbtwtiLpwWBjfxtuK3MHG6eNAsbZaq5sNWF_m-avqN1h/s640/Screenshot-139.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany wants a puppy too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid thinks his little half-brother Blaze is a great choice ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCeA4i1f4nNPzzXK0MlcQPKn7NDVeZDVUwhHYPdzIINWTpG9v51cDsEBUWa69yAxBjKw-moZPqipWDdv4chorZs02K5CWWlUImF1SlemAE7aMTkjYWIzzrYTj6SB9DowIT6e9uGsCaDTf/s1600/Screenshot-133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCeA4i1f4nNPzzXK0MlcQPKn7NDVeZDVUwhHYPdzIINWTpG9v51cDsEBUWa69yAxBjKw-moZPqipWDdv4chorZs02K5CWWlUImF1SlemAE7aMTkjYWIzzrYTj6SB9DowIT6e9uGsCaDTf/s640/Screenshot-133.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Grrrrr... yip yip! I'll get you and tear your head off!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Even if he's a bit clumsy...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7m-CAM2Bwmd_AWrTybz9GE79e_3HT9Ax7nqNSXwyYs-7wshkrZ0nTk4-x4u3dxr9jhaqHItqfeciMpavfWiUIFk8FC3TjiXT110MOJS53V_JX73U8IwP37jSTvz8lcWEe8FBZnfirQzk/s1600/Screenshot-134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7m-CAM2Bwmd_AWrTybz9GE79e_3HT9Ax7nqNSXwyYs-7wshkrZ0nTk4-x4u3dxr9jhaqHItqfeciMpavfWiUIFk8FC3TjiXT110MOJS53V_JX73U8IwP37jSTvz8lcWEe8FBZnfirQzk/s640/Screenshot-134.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Aww... poor lil' guy - I think you've got some growing into those big paws to do first!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Melody heads for the puppy kennel to pick one out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5UlpiucAK0Q0XRphvWQ5NU1LhGyyJut4BoccQL_gZMLc-q4IVofedp8165I1cRxzVbWwdeEpwUszb0t8jSQ6A_gR5oXcDQO7UpymDsNY4y8ZIw-Vh0Gf0IdpSl51WH04aDuFADVNXof33/s1600/Screenshot-140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5UlpiucAK0Q0XRphvWQ5NU1LhGyyJut4BoccQL_gZMLc-q4IVofedp8165I1cRxzVbWwdeEpwUszb0t8jSQ6A_gR5oXcDQO7UpymDsNY4y8ZIw-Vh0Gf0IdpSl51WH04aDuFADVNXof33/s640/Screenshot-140.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Maybe she won't see through my disguise!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But the breeder, Henry, recommends an older dog since Melody's really looking for a great watch dog right away and a pup will take a long time to grow up and be trained.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZt6Y1E4HQAzMJb03DVOSsLCSYaFalhyu9QajfOJWPGGLcSBHLXYGpvfwTygstqUn5raePUjhEyN7qvijOQ54toWO3RzDhinBjRg7PHzaOLn_h7LU0aIcD1KNBkms0pvtPatFQiWR3Ezjc/s1600/Screenshot-141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZt6Y1E4HQAzMJb03DVOSsLCSYaFalhyu9QajfOJWPGGLcSBHLXYGpvfwTygstqUn5raePUjhEyN7qvijOQ54toWO3RzDhinBjRg7PHzaOLn_h7LU0aIcD1KNBkms0pvtPatFQiWR3Ezjc/s640/Screenshot-141.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I believe you'd be very happy with Cupid's brother Comet. He's already a proven hunter and very protective."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma thinks this is an even better idea too so that Cupid and Comet can visit one another when she comes over for play dates with Isabel!<br />
<br />
The details are worked out between the adults,<br />
<br />
... and the toddlers too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbP0oiEuvoqktl7K_pdBmxz4vQNQG9s0ixIYHg5KPmm6SAHvUocbWh9hfImPuWjAy6qWAg0Q2X7ea7PcUwA7wSwqTnxv3CZJA1s7wJXZA-Of8bnuXddtXkt7qnyZia4RPR0MYERxS-MxG1/s1600/Screenshot-222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbP0oiEuvoqktl7K_pdBmxz4vQNQG9s0ixIYHg5KPmm6SAHvUocbWh9hfImPuWjAy6qWAg0Q2X7ea7PcUwA7wSwqTnxv3CZJA1s7wJXZA-Of8bnuXddtXkt7qnyZia4RPR0MYERxS-MxG1/s640/Screenshot-222.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls discussing the merits of their favorite doggies...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Comet's a little nervous at first. Melody's a fancy lady with a fancy house - and he's never been out of the kennel away from his 'pack' before. But he's determined to be a good dog in his new home, and brings in the paper hoping to please his new owner.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzvA-kXfWXXgkFCcJDmaFSXGF3oghizMJ_TvsgikQalVvHQXcf1DhGVoM-dYnmEVSRHad5XDbmBZZ6sqN2rlOcbvmqmVgQpLc4H8tAvWHe4Ai9RdfoHCKcCuQTkXOehVYLk-s0RVuHowmg/s1600/Screenshot-230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzvA-kXfWXXgkFCcJDmaFSXGF3oghizMJ_TvsgikQalVvHQXcf1DhGVoM-dYnmEVSRHad5XDbmBZZ6sqN2rlOcbvmqmVgQpLc4H8tAvWHe4Ai9RdfoHCKcCuQTkXOehVYLk-s0RVuHowmg/s640/Screenshot-230.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Here's your paper Lady. I'll go outside and patrol for bad guys now!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Back at home, Emma just perfected the art of making veggie rolls, a welcome addition to their otherwise boring vegetarian diet. She's proud she's growing all her own ingredients. She's taking this dish to a party at Melody's house to show off her skills!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw3TEIvJuRzy2AqrEHoOacSpW4Qghx5nJzOmb378Wl2xcy3CUBWEd0EFGnnAr7SPPu9WZ9X-Paw-B8pXw8RozS3iUU4uVY1hw2YUQ8SQlz88CIK0zu_LqipwQrZH2PYT5QBXkAFqNwoqQ/s1600/Screenshot-144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw3TEIvJuRzy2AqrEHoOacSpW4Qghx5nJzOmb378Wl2xcy3CUBWEd0EFGnnAr7SPPu9WZ9X-Paw-B8pXw8RozS3iUU4uVY1hw2YUQ8SQlz88CIK0zu_LqipwQrZH2PYT5QBXkAFqNwoqQ/s640/Screenshot-144.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh yes, I'm so awesome, I know it!" (bragging to the veggie rolls) "This is the start of something BIG!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Simon is late coming home (again) and Emma rushes through a quick salad with him after changing into her new outfit. She's excited because after getting the contract to cater Melody's party in a few days, Darryl Jackson has invited Emma to bring fresh produce to his kitchen for preparation now that they have a business agreement.<br />
<br />
Simon's not thrilled she's going out for the evening, and Emma reminds him somewhat impatiently that he refuses to hire a babysitter for Isabel, otherwise they could go out <i>together </i>more often!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeX5jgcBxpHckjNY2qKZxT9t9wqPBiWCYy5U5dNtw2ZyUjLOBuNsPo9fz90tDL1GlA1-ub6m9x2EO4FJ-peMyqT9_0-vANSHdJni2SUGu3VQO9ZiuKMKDO94xgfINo0-UVbk8Br_6DXKD/s1600/Screenshot-164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeX5jgcBxpHckjNY2qKZxT9t9wqPBiWCYy5U5dNtw2ZyUjLOBuNsPo9fz90tDL1GlA1-ub6m9x2EO4FJ-peMyqT9_0-vANSHdJni2SUGu3VQO9ZiuKMKDO94xgfINo0-UVbk8Br_6DXKD/s640/Screenshot-164.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It would be really nice if you'd come and support my new business efforts Simon."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then Simon says something that stops her in her tracks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuvj7cEAPgS1-IRmRjJyAKrEm_AdubIUWk4DltJzenzw-S1knE0UEjp1ryEF1DDXMgllAIVi8LDlHz-tlcNxjvqhyESlmtIdoLwovOxSB1uKM4Q5FEwsGIIaFvwB8Jas2nVTy2jU749Mf/s1600/Screenshot-165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuvj7cEAPgS1-IRmRjJyAKrEm_AdubIUWk4DltJzenzw-S1knE0UEjp1ryEF1DDXMgllAIVi8LDlHz-tlcNxjvqhyESlmtIdoLwovOxSB1uKM4Q5FEwsGIIaFvwB8Jas2nVTy2jU749Mf/s640/Screenshot-165.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Does your new business also provide that fancy <i>uniform </i>you're wearing?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon's not as oblivious as it would sometimes seem. He realizes Emma's wearing yet another new, and expensively made designer outfit and his dig hits home.<br />
<br />
Emma does not appreciate the lecture she receives about her high society friends and their lifestyle.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjetRZ9AXlvEcrv7RFWUR8OqLnza5ptIpfNHo4UjF2wZvakwRdxfPV5Ckor-_8ZsiC-Aw2NkiQJ4oh2Bx4DyNtGsQc-t1UChC27GMSF_QqkHBQIHrb7XayQjD4wsZTXwqzHrPFbYvD-zF1/s1600/Screenshot-169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjetRZ9AXlvEcrv7RFWUR8OqLnza5ptIpfNHo4UjF2wZvakwRdxfPV5Ckor-_8ZsiC-Aw2NkiQJ4oh2Bx4DyNtGsQc-t1UChC27GMSF_QqkHBQIHrb7XayQjD4wsZTXwqzHrPFbYvD-zF1/s640/Screenshot-169.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Our life is different Emma. Consumerism and materialistic ideals are for <i>shallow </i>people. We're better then that!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now Emma makes a tactical error. She laughs at Simon's ideals and mocks his <i>eco-friendly</i> preferences as totally hypocritical and even goes so far as to criticize his neurotic behavior.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFTImOlRGu83uffj7sipqy8k9wsuigaLE0bAHEgakZImcUrvoFk9SwSw5tbud3MGFgPpHI3WIgiijvehwHhQzse3ifCjvh7lqE8fW-2B5CBiaYfgbwqyKTjdl4VmEj4SzymjeEjLj7QIo/s1600/Screenshot-170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFTImOlRGu83uffj7sipqy8k9wsuigaLE0bAHEgakZImcUrvoFk9SwSw5tbud3MGFgPpHI3WIgiijvehwHhQzse3ifCjvh7lqE8fW-2B5CBiaYfgbwqyKTjdl4VmEj4SzymjeEjLj7QIo/s640/Screenshot-170.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"As if YOU would know quality if it hit you in the face with a bat?! You're more worried about <i>aliens </i>invading!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's finally lost her patience. She goes on to criticize Simon's lack of interest in anything besides animals and conspiracy theories, claiming he is completely out of touch with anything at all about how real Sims live. How dare he criticize her friend's lifestyle!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraskUT2_r8bx29UeKjPSpjBPvtLyW8XAGZnQRekpnbsiVsXSc4Yi6SWFAq-9XlQQlUo42WGu5yjSK-OKGHFKiTPYU0bAJHeSkoN3C5PodRYTDGWVald8fs-f5M-OxXwpYnOIbukgj2J3y/s1600/Screenshot-175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraskUT2_r8bx29UeKjPSpjBPvtLyW8XAGZnQRekpnbsiVsXSc4Yi6SWFAq-9XlQQlUo42WGu5yjSK-OKGHFKiTPYU0bAJHeSkoN3C5PodRYTDGWVald8fs-f5M-OxXwpYnOIbukgj2J3y/s640/Screenshot-175.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I know your attitude <i>stinks </i>lately Emma, and so do your rich friends!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well that's the last of that argument. Emma's heard enough. She's late for her appointment with Darryl.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaIFpfDZn-xT0-L5DyDLA95gOMWnSeeAXZi1lJyFvRqgiBpLidDcj6cEugO7Wf6ZLcFDo3kkXiCri1R2M-VvG7nwzGHNxTOuX7gq2wTiPET_ViccZJjcz8XuAOGKIS8FVKnp4uXsO-30l/s1600/Screenshot-171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaIFpfDZn-xT0-L5DyDLA95gOMWnSeeAXZi1lJyFvRqgiBpLidDcj6cEugO7Wf6ZLcFDo3kkXiCri1R2M-VvG7nwzGHNxTOuX7gq2wTiPET_ViccZJjcz8XuAOGKIS8FVKnp4uXsO-30l/s640/Screenshot-171.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go on then, go schmooze it up with your important friends. I'm staying here with Isabel. At least she appreciates me."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon spends the evening teaching Isabel to walk.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ael4DWJjQwhX-Qsq7OzhzYaWbtcxq6Cl28BFfxHL1OLbC-yiiU3oIRCm8ValiaSkB2Ndi2YNr1di3WfPAysAbGZcath7OZCy8uBwcfDQA19WU5-uM0xv_beSACzaKm6758ZPfU4VjK77/s1600/Screenshot-236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ael4DWJjQwhX-Qsq7OzhzYaWbtcxq6Cl28BFfxHL1OLbC-yiiU3oIRCm8ValiaSkB2Ndi2YNr1di3WfPAysAbGZcath7OZCy8uBwcfDQA19WU5-uM0xv_beSACzaKm6758ZPfU4VjK77/s640/Screenshot-236.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"C'mon Izzy, you can do it!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And rocking her to sleep out on the porch where they can both see the stars while he tells her a story.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyN_cN6eyF_m3G74GLWFRsW6cfXAlrCA20E7Kaf8kk6jq_6TtKOBNP4uh-0hG3K53xhzQlylpn3w6WQwwabgXyRQWtV0vsfmHz5XK6_SFwFMER4Zw7GHmYD7nOrIQgvn8SyM9zcbp8GU6/s1600/Screenshot-119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyN_cN6eyF_m3G74GLWFRsW6cfXAlrCA20E7Kaf8kk6jq_6TtKOBNP4uh-0hG3K53xhzQlylpn3w6WQwwabgXyRQWtV0vsfmHz5XK6_SFwFMER4Zw7GHmYD7nOrIQgvn8SyM9zcbp8GU6/s640/Screenshot-119.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And then the giant dragon flew away, never to be seen again. The hero had saved the day!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And waiting up for Emma to come home. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Worrying.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJT21T1szJFjuoxGaIwqNh9ECuFRhVWJwBN2RDWfrLWMsrm4mkEEhQl38InGsZOA2_ouQqE2FVbdFU8pI5oVm8fLcZIKpZupl-wWHuMipzAnUcLFisP-opIjzjQdvwf8Cveqco-V529yv4/s1600/Screenshot-91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJT21T1szJFjuoxGaIwqNh9ECuFRhVWJwBN2RDWfrLWMsrm4mkEEhQl38InGsZOA2_ouQqE2FVbdFU8pI5oVm8fLcZIKpZupl-wWHuMipzAnUcLFisP-opIjzjQdvwf8Cveqco-V529yv4/s640/Screenshot-91.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Sometimes, they say, it's best to let sleeping dogs lie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiJUiPlfTFJ3kNc76dh4V1p4lWHH2doGEx0EWUMdCPzH_B6rt8lvMAwUOJdR9uJJ6HcJLOLgVXICRSR3scULnnbhjNEyEC8JJvmTLNjE2anGnip74tN0HgWIg9mwcUi5RnzMyNMtfueBW/s1600/Screenshot-312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiJUiPlfTFJ3kNc76dh4V1p4lWHH2doGEx0EWUMdCPzH_B6rt8lvMAwUOJdR9uJJ6HcJLOLgVXICRSR3scULnnbhjNEyEC8JJvmTLNjE2anGnip74tN0HgWIg9mwcUi5RnzMyNMtfueBW/s640/Screenshot-312.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Read on to chapter 1.12 - "The Sink That Broke The Llama's Back" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/112-sink-that-broke-llamas-back.html">HERE </a>!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
*** And so the idyllic salad days are starting to fade. It had to happen eventually, and the strain between Simon and Emma has started to wear thin with their differences of lifestyle wants, which was inevitably going to come to a head at some point.<br />
<br />
- Emma has been super patient, despite repeatedly wishing to buy things over 500 simoleons and whatnot, which the Watcher has had to cancel! The "Going Green" roll has been quite hard on her, not to mention never being able to call for a pizza, or even a babysitter due to Simon's "No Strangers" roll!<br />
<br />
- The dogs were so cute, I decided to include a side plot for Cupid's brother since he needed a home! He's got a big fancy house to live in now, yay!<br />
<br />
- Chase Steele grew up so cute, maybe someday he and Isabel will hit it off! I've never shown them in the story, but Chase has two older brothers (Andy and Jake) who are absolutely gorgeous too (Dad Marc is quite hunky).<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-90232579047667592142012-09-20T13:03:00.002-07:002012-09-20T13:07:15.760-07:00Generation 2 - Random Roll Results<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBptV7NEAMEapbFvisrveuG122X4MjWvInM8TDR4xLlyTSRlEQ5CvdE_Ghhh3iAOM6xZZD-eVk87Nb-B7vOJCTJnPUwdMjRgunYtN5X6jSR8kb0x9h72HAbqXEEZLKa-PZizAhl4jQDt-K/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBptV7NEAMEapbFvisrveuG122X4MjWvInM8TDR4xLlyTSRlEQ5CvdE_Ghhh3iAOM6xZZD-eVk87Nb-B7vOJCTJnPUwdMjRgunYtN5X6jSR8kb0x9h72HAbqXEEZLKa-PZizAhl4jQDt-K/s400/Screenshot-115.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Twist (Secondary Founder) with Daughter Isabel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Just a short note to reveal the roll I got for the <u><b>Twist Legacy Generation Two</b></u>!
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<u>Marital Structure</u>: <b>Single with Help</b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Your may not marry or move in a romantic partner. Instead move in a friend, sibling, cousin, etc. to help raise the children. The Sim you move in takes the secondary career; it's like playing the Couple roll, without romance. This 'helper' may have children of their own, but, like your sim, they may not marry or move in a partner (until halfway through the youngest child's teen stage, anyway; for more clarification on that, see Single Parent above). Any children the helper has counts toward the total number of children you rolled, provided that they grow up in your household, but their children cannot be the generation heir. So if you roll for one child, only your Sim may have a child in the house, but if you roll two children, your Sim can have 2 and the helper none, or they can have one each, etc.</span><br style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;" /><br style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;" /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">All children in the house must live by that generation's rules. The helper may move out when the heir comes of age, but that is not required.</span><br style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;" /><br style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;" /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">The option for a single parent to move in their romantic partner when the youngest child is halfway through their teen stage was a fairly recent addition. You may do this for the single parent and the helper as well, if you choose. Four older sims hanging around while the new generation takes over may be tough to manage, though, so keep in mind the option of moving the old generation out when the new one takes over... and the option of simply having the sims remain single/not living with their romantic interest, even after the restriction evaporates. It's all up to you!</span></i></span>
<br />
<br />
<u>Number of Children</u>: <b>Two Children</b><br />
<br />
<u>Income</u>: P: <b>Adventurer</b><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> S: <b>Business</b><br />
<br />
<u>Generation Goal</u>: <b>Deadbeat Parents</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i style="background-color: #93c47d;">Opposite of Perfect Children. Do NOT potty train, teach to walk or teach to talk any toddlers. Do NOT read any toddler books to them. You must not be given the choice to choose any traits, apart from the first two, as they are a bit random and beyond your control. Keep in mind that for children and teenagers, school performance is the factor that determines your ability to choose the next trait.</i></span></span>
<br />
<br />
<u>Miscellaneous Fun</u>: <b>Live Your Trait</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i style="background-color: #93c47d;">Choose one of your heir's 5 traits to live by. The heir, starting at YA age, will have to do something every day that reflects this trait, and must fulfill any wishes that come up that are related to this trait, up to 5 wishes a day.</i></span></span>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My Thoughts / Notes:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At first I was really disappointed with this roll as I got another "Expansion Pack" oriented career, and I've never done too much traveling as a career based option. But then I realized this is why the random legacy is so great ... its <i>forcing </i>me out of my comfort zone. Sure, I could re-roll it, as many who have WA can't stand vacations (I'm somewhat ambivalent about it) - but I'm going to stick with it!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The second biggest problem came when I realized I had rolled Deadbeat Parents, one of the rolls a lot of people wanted to vote out for good, but I agreed should be allowed to stay in as optional. Fortunately I think I have a somewhat barely sketched out story line that will work well with this roll due to the marital structure being Single with Help. The 'helper' isn't really going to be that helpful since they can't really do much with the babies!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lastly, I love the Live Your Trait roll and look forward to the challenge of figuring out how to get my heir to do five things every single day that reflects the chosen trait. Once I've revealed my heir, it will be interesting to see which trait becomes the chosen one!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-60757114591935227232012-09-19T22:53:00.000-07:002012-09-23T13:57:56.751-07:001.10 - Salad DaysThe days have started to blend together - a nice tossed mix of idyllic family life salad ...<br />
<br />
... and lack of sleep.<br />
<br />
This is how a typical day in the tiny Twist house (house of twister!) goes:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_l389DoXnAnOCRhfsbmIn-5AP8oG5ieCZcfEcOg8vECRHf0cAvy-Qs7jVrEtwTMMm0LTKO0i5s6dgdsdLu8pF1QyHVzopRCMCK3CGQP4qB747sHmtKsMDuWFMrTTrH6l5ov-y7HcLtDZt/s1600/Screenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_l389DoXnAnOCRhfsbmIn-5AP8oG5ieCZcfEcOg8vECRHf0cAvy-Qs7jVrEtwTMMm0LTKO0i5s6dgdsdLu8pF1QyHVzopRCMCK3CGQP4qB747sHmtKsMDuWFMrTTrH6l5ov-y7HcLtDZt/s640/Screenshot.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ugh! ... It's ... 3 am ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Emma gets up for the middle of the night shift.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFomDDoHfrzNdijuw8GooqveELoZtww7IFMit6uuqGZ8awf5qGNmsHsYDBs45_GxM5u03gunnC7N9xN7Nx8A-M3NuWrX6-t7eSnfb4srR1zfexCN-xwVTHCvExvWoXmOtDr7eH8ulLX-D8/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFomDDoHfrzNdijuw8GooqveELoZtww7IFMit6uuqGZ8awf5qGNmsHsYDBs45_GxM5u03gunnC7N9xN7Nx8A-M3NuWrX6-t7eSnfb4srR1zfexCN-xwVTHCvExvWoXmOtDr7eH8ulLX-D8/s640/Screenshot-5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crying pink larva! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Then she gets a couple more precious hours of sleep while Cupid takes his watch over the baby sleeping in her swing Grandma and Grandpa sent as a gift.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTU3MyuSFlDXsQRIIn8awdn95sCMmN01wZn6Vg290jKLi7ywuh3p2mBJTbQmxDM8elJP3El1ri9JB_Kun0FAWhyphenhyphene0wi_EDmBMfaTldCVqNVHq5RIPoll3QC3S5slZjMl5VG8ixiEauyfH7/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTU3MyuSFlDXsQRIIn8awdn95sCMmN01wZn6Vg290jKLi7ywuh3p2mBJTbQmxDM8elJP3El1ri9JB_Kun0FAWhyphenhyphene0wi_EDmBMfaTldCVqNVHq5RIPoll3QC3S5slZjMl5VG8ixiEauyfH7/s640/Screenshot-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid is the <u>best</u> babysitter!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Then Dad gets up and has his turn as the sun is coming up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbHFXo4ERktclrOCJD0OjCaqMi-WCL2d-79oZ42F5H0ZdS_wRpN_1aeTVzyramHJ1cf-YGnW7KkpBjvJ3PilACUr2vWnSSgDNI-FD6gbwB2QpTBqNmqJIuFfHDfKuYB4fdAXgHNYVDkBI/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbHFXo4ERktclrOCJD0OjCaqMi-WCL2d-79oZ42F5H0ZdS_wRpN_1aeTVzyramHJ1cf-YGnW7KkpBjvJ3PilACUr2vWnSSgDNI-FD6gbwB2QpTBqNmqJIuFfHDfKuYB4fdAXgHNYVDkBI/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awww... she's reaching for Daddy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Simon is developing a playful bond with his daughter.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bNLK4O5rHub4-yWM07tsabAq7wW-bTysUHq3-x7ZmzPuofMxeB-igaxIeRRQKv8WDpY3TBblAfJPanhZXk6rF7Ju2nBtHp29NyB0_xqqnZtPsp_rcjsA3hGYMU2Xeg-7TQTGfUF-pJBf/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bNLK4O5rHub4-yWM07tsabAq7wW-bTysUHq3-x7ZmzPuofMxeB-igaxIeRRQKv8WDpY3TBblAfJPanhZXk6rF7Ju2nBtHp29NyB0_xqqnZtPsp_rcjsA3hGYMU2Xeg-7TQTGfUF-pJBf/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Toss the little larva in the air!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Then Emma comes downstairs much more cheerful after some more sleep and makes breakfast.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3INnFh7oG6dydPZeF5ccQTHMSzI4ej8ALct8SvXWGcYvupv72GUIbCgsFQ1sabFQr7bwC7aQqIwpAQb_r2TW-CBCC3p_N_mpTD4Rbr_Qo-jl8Cev3-w57DaB1f1z5zUexByT7eFWwvqa/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3INnFh7oG6dydPZeF5ccQTHMSzI4ej8ALct8SvXWGcYvupv72GUIbCgsFQ1sabFQr7bwC7aQqIwpAQb_r2TW-CBCC3p_N_mpTD4Rbr_Qo-jl8Cev3-w57DaB1f1z5zUexByT7eFWwvqa/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sul Sul!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The happy little family spends their early mornings in the garden. Isabel absolutely loves being outdoors. Emma found she would cry less if she moved her swing outside and Isabel could gently swing and watch as Mama and Daddy tend to the garden.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsssaSuAv7_q9jNsDppYwSza4ERCg-n52AsFekFq-oABZEYvBLwyEukscxrmNAmlqnq0g0YRNgGCJfjhJY_rx1WGT6T0gwe1uFRvMUP7FpORKBszGKT_NQsO26KL4Co-0Yff3OTdD-WIFI/s1600/Screenshot-105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsssaSuAv7_q9jNsDppYwSza4ERCg-n52AsFekFq-oABZEYvBLwyEukscxrmNAmlqnq0g0YRNgGCJfjhJY_rx1WGT6T0gwe1uFRvMUP7FpORKBszGKT_NQsO26KL4Co-0Yff3OTdD-WIFI/s640/Screenshot-105.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid keeps on constant alert for prowling ghosts!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Grandma and Grandpa also sent a matching stroller, which Emma takes full advantage of when they go out on their daily rounds of visiting friends around town!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUMMUjYV1V7k3_KhV48xZnAlAiv-LzjxrNGwYLlvzsro9oqaS7ONj_NwW0ia89iXk4raz198yXfyJQe9-4Vp90H4OIiw5MUjyr-1aXqDjIbFAZW5nvwGF9W3jYutVApbcHPbfosR61XGLZ/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUMMUjYV1V7k3_KhV48xZnAlAiv-LzjxrNGwYLlvzsro9oqaS7ONj_NwW0ia89iXk4raz198yXfyJQe9-4Vp90H4OIiw5MUjyr-1aXqDjIbFAZW5nvwGF9W3jYutVApbcHPbfosR61XGLZ/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Social Hour! (Isabel really likes riding in the swing or stroller and being outdoors!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
First stop is the Steele's Horse Ranch, where Emma's been invited to come and watch Susannah train race horses and let Isabel play with her youngest son Chase.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpyzPmB9sV-X7p7D_dOg0hidd_AUeDpd5KS7-0fYbqm19JQWvK8Q5xv3iKuuEt9pRuUoZnwJtY9v78BNecyMfIo94Sxq-LYUfJZwDloMZ7hY0i-vOGvg2-gjDeSZWVK5BE9jSLiaVk7WN/s1600/Screenshot-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpyzPmB9sV-X7p7D_dOg0hidd_AUeDpd5KS7-0fYbqm19JQWvK8Q5xv3iKuuEt9pRuUoZnwJtY9v78BNecyMfIo94Sxq-LYUfJZwDloMZ7hY0i-vOGvg2-gjDeSZWVK5BE9jSLiaVk7WN/s640/Screenshot-39.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel: "Aaagh my eyes! That horse is kicking up dust in my tiny face!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel gets to listen while Mama and Susannah chat and catch up on all the latest gossip around town.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO1HBCHB5z1avuCHM7ePHV9LLXUo0jV8OeqWM08ahIV1tmQdl43EUsR0Om4TuXPM0y4k9tJVQHVoxlJJlqeNb7aPn50iMRh5FRBIxxaUrFXnhIy80WZVmGZf75rXHbH5HykOa3siIur-z/s1600/Screenshot-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO1HBCHB5z1avuCHM7ePHV9LLXUo0jV8OeqWM08ahIV1tmQdl43EUsR0Om4TuXPM0y4k9tJVQHVoxlJJlqeNb7aPn50iMRh5FRBIxxaUrFXnhIy80WZVmGZf75rXHbH5HykOa3siIur-z/s640/Screenshot-40.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(For some reason everyone's thinking about ghosts lately)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel is still too tiny to play yet, but Emma lays her on a brightly colored blanket to enjoy the beautiful day, which makes Isabel happiest.<br />
<br />
Little Chase Steele crawls over to give the 'baby' a sweet little toddler hug.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-76WJOYhYhsD5XUgA5CL9jZyEWgL6Q6QdBhImaHFy6GcRlLSMbsr-ZJ3OBf6DLvcTsevp8toCk8lV6NzS2m5EbqFpMKlphjLs8amq4T3Q5TRDzawsAurHzpX-yLYs6btENQbLTeO9Ab0/s1600/Screenshot-58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-76WJOYhYhsD5XUgA5CL9jZyEWgL6Q6QdBhImaHFy6GcRlLSMbsr-ZJ3OBf6DLvcTsevp8toCk8lV6NzS2m5EbqFpMKlphjLs8amq4T3Q5TRDzawsAurHzpX-yLYs6btENQbLTeO9Ab0/s640/Screenshot-58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(This is probably one of the single <u>cutest</u> screenshots I've ever been lucky enough to catch - no posing mod!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Chase finds the larva baby's toys a lot more exciting than her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qBGW9HIH3PsFg3P0FyqyaDSRThQ7y0bhTx4KDnpw_iwcaHIIYmo-bWD2lKr8kysSUUW68MEWZEpPpBJ0r8xxYjuBnd1_WB3h-I3vVvOaXzYRjEeFJXiiADe3UEN9_h7AcTdLDuIwfiZi/s1600/Screenshot-62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qBGW9HIH3PsFg3P0FyqyaDSRThQ7y0bhTx4KDnpw_iwcaHIIYmo-bWD2lKr8kysSUUW68MEWZEpPpBJ0r8xxYjuBnd1_WB3h-I3vVvOaXzYRjEeFJXiiADe3UEN9_h7AcTdLDuIwfiZi/s640/Screenshot-62.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey I don't have a <i>dragon </i>toy!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Mama gets some relaxing time while watching the horses in an old antique rocking chair Susannah brought down from their horse barn attic. Susannah later had her husband Marcus bring the rocking chair to Emma's house as a surprise gift for their tiny front porch.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeD7IBEXQ_KOQR1ZmfLMs9bzlFCJNV5zz-qyjfe27eNgqFObygcp85RFkplDjdGHMCqh3tjIBKAyrx2I7pmz5ZwbUti9shG0WKU4q4cd8kflEOvKyVxznp2DLb6xr-6ky_8W6pdkXgQEQ/s1600/Screenshot-47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeD7IBEXQ_KOQR1ZmfLMs9bzlFCJNV5zz-qyjfe27eNgqFObygcp85RFkplDjdGHMCqh3tjIBKAyrx2I7pmz5ZwbUti9shG0WKU4q4cd8kflEOvKyVxznp2DLb6xr-6ky_8W6pdkXgQEQ/s640/Screenshot-47.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama rocking baby. <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon comes over right after work because Marcus called him with some concerns about one of his mares who is expecting her first foal, but acting lethargic. She checks out healthy to Simon, but he recommends a full horse vet exam just to be sure.<br />
<br />
Simon's excited to announce his new promotion at work!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVn1Mi-SCAQtUOHg5AByOm0HUVqYGM961OsLFCzMYmH2nQmXNHLZ0mqFtsnCRemfCtB4Y6fPTnYupbB-QbHLaqsSWbK21zfD7OtxZdvTD3wIcubonhfmZKe-4QIoTxoc5rGdtNRO4KOvwi/s1600/Screenshot-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVn1Mi-SCAQtUOHg5AByOm0HUVqYGM961OsLFCzMYmH2nQmXNHLZ0mqFtsnCRemfCtB4Y6fPTnYupbB-QbHLaqsSWbK21zfD7OtxZdvTD3wIcubonhfmZKe-4QIoTxoc5rGdtNRO4KOvwi/s640/Screenshot-51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Along with more field research, I get to start running some of the lab equipment testing now!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's of course thrilled for the pay raise to their meager income, though she hasn't yet let Simon know about her secret credit card bill ... she's hoping she can sell her vegetables soon and pay that off before he finds out!<br />
<br />
Along with more responsibility at work, Simon's got more skills to learn. Handiness is necessary for dealing with all those 'useless contraptions' at work. The toilet at home and constantly breaking shower head isn't enough, so Emma asks her friends if Simon can make upgrades to their appliances.<br />
<br />
But Simon ends up doing more repairs than anything else ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuooJD1Arq1iEeUYylPe2LGZpZ-eIqT0BLcUupl3xsnRoRPfFFwMV7jwuea085i4XQB8-qJvuEIvmzfE4Yh_pbipoPLmGB_15aJRDHkOWqaEDmB4OY8n52VVpzlisDLHXI3bfaHFWAVu4/s1600/Screenshot-77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuooJD1Arq1iEeUYylPe2LGZpZ-eIqT0BLcUupl3xsnRoRPfFFwMV7jwuea085i4XQB8-qJvuEIvmzfE4Yh_pbipoPLmGB_15aJRDHkOWqaEDmB4OY8n52VVpzlisDLHXI3bfaHFWAVu4/s640/Screenshot-77.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Getting sprayed in the face was NOT in the job description!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
While Emma chats with Melody Barnes, who just found out she's pregnant with <i>another </i>baby right after having one just before Emma did!<br />
<br />
Melody's husband is a very wealthy businessman in town, and their house is really big.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76Y2Umpa7eNikLwKvlt3IOUNR7nO9XK8OHNcqxvsM_9vUPyOIDZ1wqDSZ3yoFHbODLmJo8TetkFCrhTA737qbrSCqMO-VJKeuuJ5rvIzkRuXeXAeNmYMouKUYA7YolfHyTqEaBmmE-Lnr/s1600/Screenshot-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76Y2Umpa7eNikLwKvlt3IOUNR7nO9XK8OHNcqxvsM_9vUPyOIDZ1wqDSZ3yoFHbODLmJo8TetkFCrhTA737qbrSCqMO-VJKeuuJ5rvIzkRuXeXAeNmYMouKUYA7YolfHyTqEaBmmE-Lnr/s640/Screenshot-75.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well hey, at least your getting your money's worth on the maternity wear!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Finally the day arrives Emma's been waiting for - her first batch of crops are ready to harvest! She's doubled her plantings in the past weeks, and has a bountiful harvest. Appaloosa Plains, along with generous donations of horse manure fertilizer from the Steele Ranch, seems to make amazing crops and is the ideal farming land!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HvF-qW3UnVGFLj7FXyu8dQe-VDYAn9UyEsEbjWqh3fKL7LbLeD0wqPwGBAJJqbZh-BODS0p1-b6tp50ctj25Ufe5mE284CFkTgIF9Ar3SbTI1k2R9R5PMj5hqXJM3Qs_Du6GPsH3-SAj/s1600/Screenshot-82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HvF-qW3UnVGFLj7FXyu8dQe-VDYAn9UyEsEbjWqh3fKL7LbLeD0wqPwGBAJJqbZh-BODS0p1-b6tp50ctj25Ufe5mE284CFkTgIF9Ar3SbTI1k2R9R5PMj5hqXJM3Qs_Du6GPsH3-SAj/s640/Screenshot-82.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No more raking and weeding, time to make some simoleons!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She dresses up nice and has her first load of fruits and veggies delivered to the grocery story the very next morning and makes her very first big check!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq-adKxI2ik_fuMjrtDIlCvP8hU26Zed2SgrL8gboEoR00gZWVp27-sAjKtoqYgUsaEaUD5J01eBnxVk_kWQdDq9EBQXz6jebRmu7YEgMz3o3scqc9nXBEsog9n5OFImyHq8SZbIfLV_O/s1600/Screenshot-89.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq-adKxI2ik_fuMjrtDIlCvP8hU26Zed2SgrL8gboEoR00gZWVp27-sAjKtoqYgUsaEaUD5J01eBnxVk_kWQdDq9EBQXz6jebRmu7YEgMz3o3scqc9nXBEsog9n5OFImyHq8SZbIfLV_O/s640/Screenshot-89.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"YESS! Promotion to <i><b>Clodhopper</b>!! .</i>.. "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now she can finally pay off those pesky overdue shopping bills!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8e8Uc8-XUoJzIcvutCb43j4O0iKCBL1qj2TM7iSFDXWE0NR8px_2G1bZlsw9-DPL2n4CaAP4QClvvxwm2UFb5HPkZL-Glv2F3NBeShwEJfcMoqpCBvF4SHaRBiNIUSSZSrPIbHR-CdAb/s1600/Screenshot-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8e8Uc8-XUoJzIcvutCb43j4O0iKCBL1qj2TM7iSFDXWE0NR8px_2G1bZlsw9-DPL2n4CaAP4QClvvxwm2UFb5HPkZL-Glv2F3NBeShwEJfcMoqpCBvF4SHaRBiNIUSSZSrPIbHR-CdAb/s640/Screenshot-90.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh I hope Simon keeps forgetting to check the mailbox ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Back at home again before Simon has to go to work for the day, Emma is thrilled to celebrate little Isabel's first aging up day!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHRmN8t454qgw6myM1aazZtLUPzM2GHKhuTQtG9dBb5NaPyk8QaunBnPfbV28P1pDo_mRlL03JRfu2wIWkwuVRU_bWtWHyN9Lsrs1fnJ8k0VuleB_AaI1BHsYEMkOiNvqJErF9WnFHkAb/s1600/Screenshot-108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHRmN8t454qgw6myM1aazZtLUPzM2GHKhuTQtG9dBb5NaPyk8QaunBnPfbV28P1pDo_mRlL03JRfu2wIWkwuVRU_bWtWHyN9Lsrs1fnJ8k0VuleB_AaI1BHsYEMkOiNvqJErF9WnFHkAb/s640/Screenshot-108.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupid stands guard as a cute little toddler erupts out of her pink larva blanket!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
One of those strange dolls arrives as a present for Isabel from a faraway relative no one's ever heard of before ...<br />
<br />
And of course Isabel goes straight for it!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDzXgrxfw7f8e6HwN1Vle_gZlpoLfVppc8ejN3JDasEC0JahLTqy77ta_hFbmSJBiy9bWJ9RfIsTJiBgP3_R9J0wvioeNmDvUrbFgA2E6JVcNAHwQ6a8NyNSE7TViG2_UPgQxENGxDcOB/s1600/Screenshot-109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDzXgrxfw7f8e6HwN1Vle_gZlpoLfVppc8ejN3JDasEC0JahLTqy77ta_hFbmSJBiy9bWJ9RfIsTJiBgP3_R9J0wvioeNmDvUrbFgA2E6JVcNAHwQ6a8NyNSE7TViG2_UPgQxENGxDcOB/s640/Screenshot-109.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey Cupid... Pal can TALK to me and he says you're a <u>bad </u>dog!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Cupid sees right through this <i>evil disguise</i> and lunges for the doll before it can get up off the ground where Isabel set it down ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMT4VqxOM6BXg20fAL6TeS-Beop612KSSYdVnMl1ZuBrDbwUFbZXxQ81EMKIfmuwc8Ihwsl56FXc7P6vtpef6xrKXxC4eVMWgx53ZOca-x6CekcMTSFxKclyWMd4eQq6urT7CpIAR20Ks/s1600/Screenshot-111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMT4VqxOM6BXg20fAL6TeS-Beop612KSSYdVnMl1ZuBrDbwUFbZXxQ81EMKIfmuwc8Ihwsl56FXc7P6vtpef6xrKXxC4eVMWgx53ZOca-x6CekcMTSFxKclyWMd4eQq6urT7CpIAR20Ks/s640/Screenshot-111.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabel: "I don't think Pal likes you very much Cupid"<br />
Cupid: "Stay here Isabel, Pal and I are going to go out in the cow pasture and have a little talk... "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i>And that's the last anyone ever remembers seeing Pal.</i><br />
<br />
Good thing toddlers have such short memories!<br />
<br />
As a toddler, Isabel looks a lot like her Mama, with pretty honey colored hair, streaked with gold, and dark blue eyes. Her tiny nose and mouth suggest more petite features ... but only time will tell!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Qp8JuPLb-twi7vB1YBHqhMvW0VhSAaMnnK8Vqncpo2_gNLK89gLPkY6B2NVCf2NAlc1lp1Izrw3t7L02L9IZfiQfHJdxcN1JSo4n-7GSzUIN6kiER4BZbpVt_bhje-O3B8CL10AXg7uG/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Qp8JuPLb-twi7vB1YBHqhMvW0VhSAaMnnK8Vqncpo2_gNLK89gLPkY6B2NVCf2NAlc1lp1Izrw3t7L02L9IZfiQfHJdxcN1JSo4n-7GSzUIN6kiER4BZbpVt_bhje-O3B8CL10AXg7uG/s640/Screenshot-115.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awww. Another <i>Cuteness Overload </i>shot! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Read on to Ch. 1.11 "Lets Sleeping Dogs Lie" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/111-let-sleeping-dogs-lie.html">HERE </a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
- I got soooo many great screenshots this round it was hard to trim them down to just one chapter!!<br />
<br />
- Tons of babies being born around town (start of a brand new town always has a baby boom!)<br />
<br />
- Kanoa is looking for somewhere else to live now that Imogen cut him off too. Apparently she's now seeing that Booker Singleton guy, who previously knocked up Sofia Martingale who was <i>also </i>one of Kanoa's lovers... so those two are just swapping women I guess. Eww! Small town, not a lot of strumpets to choose from!<br />
<br />
- Jazlyn Parrott is now dating Benjamin Schmidt, who seems like a nice <i>boring </i>fellow. Perfect.<br />
<br />
- Emma's being a bit unrealistic about hiding her credit card bill. A girl raised in luxury and city life is also somewhat naive about how long it takes to grow crops for profit. haha.<br />
<br />
- Cupid is amazingly wonderful (loyal) and really does tend to stick around Emma and the baby a lot, following them everywhere. The tiny micro house is starting to be a pathing nightmare...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-23738309842554819512012-09-15T20:28:00.002-07:002012-09-19T23:09:53.392-07:001.9 - Something in the water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />
It's getting more difficult to bend over now, but Emma still tends to her garden and takes a walk every day to find more seeds to plant. She has surprised herself at sticking with it this long, considering its a lot of dirty exhausting work.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3EAeiOgdlMu6w5T5Mfgn-Zob28YR4WI0blI7OCtsKVwh7wMPt5wSyCGLS6_CEkpv0d6tprqzCL9OxbAOuc7c1y1HsaLe1ZoY6K_nn_7eXyxSNB2CqPUapO4up5UWy8hKiqNRFCklQYuU/s1600/1+-+Screenshot-128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3EAeiOgdlMu6w5T5Mfgn-Zob28YR4WI0blI7OCtsKVwh7wMPt5wSyCGLS6_CEkpv0d6tprqzCL9OxbAOuc7c1y1HsaLe1ZoY6K_nn_7eXyxSNB2CqPUapO4up5UWy8hKiqNRFCklQYuU/s640/1+-+Screenshot-128.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plants, and babies are growing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But more than anything else, Emma looks forward to her daily socializing. Part of her motivation to walk around town is so she can keep up on all the local gossip.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqINfcdfSbukHYRxW_kAzbeGM0y45Lu8MoVccBJnhCx4BIS3FAIefxdVOlXezWAji0pA_NcCEvAwj8lzi-dUcuaYoYRzkTAY-pVWAl81Goga7fyO2-z15LsSsqCXF9KCgl05yxxme9oLD/s1600/2+-+Screenshot-72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqINfcdfSbukHYRxW_kAzbeGM0y45Lu8MoVccBJnhCx4BIS3FAIefxdVOlXezWAji0pA_NcCEvAwj8lzi-dUcuaYoYRzkTAY-pVWAl81Goga7fyO2-z15LsSsqCXF9KCgl05yxxme9oLD/s640/2+-+Screenshot-72.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I heard Imogen Pelly dumped Kanoa Parrott like a pile of dirt as soon as his wife kicked him out ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Melody Barnes has quickly become one of Emma's favorite playgroup Moms. She just had a baby too, and Emma can't wait for her own little one to someday play with Melody's little girl Bethany.<br />
<br />
Emma feels like she can really open up to Melody, and confesses that the money troubles at home have strained her relationship with her husband Simon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGFQ-NaT4gW4oITO1eZt_s9gBB4ucB-oy3BYpDxlHjssPFYch4YaaRf7el6dBWhE59Ob02gLSNqyNx_8zJ65emscNFJEpMEmqTdFcaYrYoX9lJQkXV1svF3snzDo4HPmRRp-a5PNHzZX8/s1600/3+-+Screenshot-76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGFQ-NaT4gW4oITO1eZt_s9gBB4ucB-oy3BYpDxlHjssPFYch4YaaRf7el6dBWhE59Ob02gLSNqyNx_8zJ65emscNFJEpMEmqTdFcaYrYoX9lJQkXV1svF3snzDo4HPmRRp-a5PNHzZX8/s640/3+-+Screenshot-76.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We've had no money for months, and I just keep charging stuff on the credit card ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But Melody's a great friend, and reassures Emma, the same as Susannah did, that life has a funny way of working itself out somehow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUHO5PLptdG6Bsr0mzNsYkJWc2Rs9TiRWUTNiY5wxhYHMpcBoUxXrll1S16Jhkt-MWH9WoD2xXGyWFrc7GfIehdLl7WtyniJ5Xw2yZzAdscsTd63tWJ8oAlec-lx0zHvZH6MJNKyTZdJl/s1600/4+-+Screenshot-59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUHO5PLptdG6Bsr0mzNsYkJWc2Rs9TiRWUTNiY5wxhYHMpcBoUxXrll1S16Jhkt-MWH9WoD2xXGyWFrc7GfIehdLl7WtyniJ5Xw2yZzAdscsTd63tWJ8oAlec-lx0zHvZH6MJNKyTZdJl/s640/4+-+Screenshot-59.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just think Emma, you're going to be a Mother any day now, and soon that's all that will matter."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Motherhood seems to be something many women in Appaloosa Plains are experiencing right now. Everywhere you turn, someone's having a baby.<br />
<br />
Jacqueline Lanson, Jazlyn's good friend who lives across the street, just had a baby. She must have been pregnant when they last met and didn't know it yet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXJO8HVRGNk5CyzQS9MuygkaUvVrpE8c67Zx6-CFUepFx9bM185uytDF0bs_pmv9Nw90HvAwymtjjQXxdsEoTxQIthgZdA6qu-2tJqDgWDxGG2_ycWKDXXGfDF1wdz9iBb0hWHly-zEox/s1600/5+-+Screenshot-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXJO8HVRGNk5CyzQS9MuygkaUvVrpE8c67Zx6-CFUepFx9bM185uytDF0bs_pmv9Nw90HvAwymtjjQXxdsEoTxQIthgZdA6qu-2tJqDgWDxGG2_ycWKDXXGfDF1wdz9iBb0hWHly-zEox/s640/5+-+Screenshot-80.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacqueline went into labor at Flying V's in the middle of a live show much to the proprietor's dismay ... "Can somebody please help me clean this mess off the stage!?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And even Jazlyn's sister, Hailey Shepherd is pregnant from an apparent "software failure" on her boyfriend's part, she says jokingly when Emma meets her and Jazlyn while out for a walk.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2f90v02k88NzdslHL_btruiPVNh2qcBpHu9JV6sp85dsAHru3JzGeFv2F-z-lXtiujrjtjsFidLDkmW6cZmfFnRftzTUDndrs1MaB6ZVkoW4ulzyNguI-SCYd2pg0iHqk65Uo6CsTlCqs/s1600/6+-+Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2f90v02k88NzdslHL_btruiPVNh2qcBpHu9JV6sp85dsAHru3JzGeFv2F-z-lXtiujrjtjsFidLDkmW6cZmfFnRftzTUDndrs1MaB6ZVkoW4ulzyNguI-SCYd2pg0iHqk65Uo6CsTlCqs/s640/6+-+Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hailey: "Hey we must shop at the same Mother & Baby store! Did you see the sale on designer baby shoes?"<br />
Jazlyn: "I warned you there was something in the water here Emma, now everyone's popping out kids!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She finds out that Hailey's moved out of the house she shared with her boyfriend and other roommates and is staying with Jazlyn to help out around the house until her own baby arrives.
<br />
<br />
They're all invited to Jacqueline's baby celebration party that evening, but Jazlyn doesn't seem to be up for anything at all ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Sj7XY6Shv0H7rTsvTev-PGWEzFX66YGGA4jDR1SdsCTJg6mUtCJapieTWanGdr5U-aL5F8HMxNgLXdqJyFhIbLMy9ESC6zdIgD-SEbIsyHVJUqrVzir9twuGl7_tekQmm_aJJYU6-O8v/s1600/7+-+Screenshot-161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Sj7XY6Shv0H7rTsvTev-PGWEzFX66YGGA4jDR1SdsCTJg6mUtCJapieTWanGdr5U-aL5F8HMxNgLXdqJyFhIbLMy9ESC6zdIgD-SEbIsyHVJUqrVzir9twuGl7_tekQmm_aJJYU6-O8v/s640/7+-+Screenshot-161.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I think I'm going to go down to the library to read some baby books before the party - I'll meet you there!"<br />
(Somebody please get Jazlyn a good stiff drink will ya ? ...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Poor Emma, still pedaling around everywhere on that bicycle! Well at least she's keeping in shape.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUVYpGB1eKKuvuODFAVDqjGrG1Cfqzc5zu56KjfT-W_LfEJHiHi5QDUaU6cikhyphenhyphen07u-Glvv7r5jqDVNELNYFuOouY0_L4QpunejYe_fAnYK7nuJfUTtqW-KVonJMfCjHfKY8d_yg3H7Gz/s1600/8+-+Screenshot-165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUVYpGB1eKKuvuODFAVDqjGrG1Cfqzc5zu56KjfT-W_LfEJHiHi5QDUaU6cikhyphenhyphen07u-Glvv7r5jqDVNELNYFuOouY0_L4QpunejYe_fAnYK7nuJfUTtqW-KVonJMfCjHfKY8d_yg3H7Gz/s640/8+-+Screenshot-165.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(You are a really tolerant Sim Emma, that's all I gotta say - crazy Watcher's random rolls!!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's feeling a bit overheated when she gets to the library, but she finds the pregnancy book she wants to read and heads for a comfy seat, waddling the whole way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FKJXHE5eY3vjtaRmDnSLLbkDItTFge2o6DqLM8b8w72NVe87gwIQWsLIybCjhNFKLVpd87fZG6nkl7gSANDK3Fma70r7CaokJ9eRMnvRTkkEduxrRQPSpeuzNSADh54eiagqiTfFl9SU/s1600/9+-+Screenshot-133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FKJXHE5eY3vjtaRmDnSLLbkDItTFge2o6DqLM8b8w72NVe87gwIQWsLIybCjhNFKLVpd87fZG6nkl7gSANDK3Fma70r7CaokJ9eRMnvRTkkEduxrRQPSpeuzNSADh54eiagqiTfFl9SU/s640/9+-+Screenshot-133.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Expecting the unexpected" - wow ain't that right ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On the way there, she gets stopped <i>unexpectedly </i>by someone she's never met but heard a whole lot about and seen around town. How can you miss her in those wild colors?<br />
<br />
She rounds the corner nearly bumping into Emma, a sneer on her face as she looks Emma up and down.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4Akp1-BKOEvGtIM2-MJ-0whKIoV0hxwQZjkfRkwOSLN7TriqsMxiAl5l58wFz3TZufCTNIuSBoo5PkuixR3bamgG-5xj2w5IJ4Wwd2GnKVALD5rb2-i0J8jLH1vjhAqMt26IHmQ0TAJv/s1600/10+-+Screenshot-144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4Akp1-BKOEvGtIM2-MJ-0whKIoV0hxwQZjkfRkwOSLN7TriqsMxiAl5l58wFz3TZufCTNIuSBoo5PkuixR3bamgG-5xj2w5IJ4Wwd2GnKVALD5rb2-i0J8jLH1vjhAqMt26IHmQ0TAJv/s640/10+-+Screenshot-144.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh look, its little Miss Goody-two-shoes!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Imogen Pelly, local fashion train wreck and home-wrecker too apparently. All too eager to take a swipe at Emma for her 'outing' of the affair between her and Kanoa Parrott, Imogen decides the <i>public </i>library is a great place to go public with some choice name-calling. She even goes so far as to poke Emma's tummy with one neon painted fingernail and proclaim that Emma's 'brat' was probably Kanoa's too!<br />
<br />
Well that was the one thing that finally makes Emma snap, and the protective Mama bear comes out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0AfKHFJjdFU1KAITZW3lX_c7O5xtAPHc4Mp5ZOOu4KRjCChyaTrrT0-lnjtT0ZlAmMkaS79Ux7mK64aST-LWragDW8Ea5azgwpZAVONSA3MLbVhs8_PLcw-uTVLXEJUeP4fIhAW02C_a/s1600/11+-+Screenshot-146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0AfKHFJjdFU1KAITZW3lX_c7O5xtAPHc4Mp5ZOOu4KRjCChyaTrrT0-lnjtT0ZlAmMkaS79Ux7mK64aST-LWragDW8Ea5azgwpZAVONSA3MLbVhs8_PLcw-uTVLXEJUeP4fIhAW02C_a/s640/11+-+Screenshot-146.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<i>Don't you ever touch me again</i>! You don't even know me - but I assure you I know <i>plenty </i>about you and can make sure the entire town does too, with some nasty photos of you if I need to!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's just getting warmed up now!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2A7VLl6ghPcQEcKM5GCi3jhYL_Nkb-BCc86aM1FdMJu7UAND-uP0UQ8lfCQS7x_W0ssdcvla1buiZolBxP1D3Kx9TYYYEOgszJc2cEd1rV03hUduEU1h68UWYjDgTvFPzBNBg1DI1bqKu/s1600/12+-+Screenshot-145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2A7VLl6ghPcQEcKM5GCi3jhYL_Nkb-BCc86aM1FdMJu7UAND-uP0UQ8lfCQS7x_W0ssdcvla1buiZolBxP1D3Kx9TYYYEOgszJc2cEd1rV03hUduEU1h68UWYjDgTvFPzBNBg1DI1bqKu/s640/12+-+Screenshot-145.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're CRAZY lady! Batshit <u>CRAZY</u>! You stay away from me and my husband or I'll post all the pictures on the computers here at the library ... I'll do it, I swear I will!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sufficiently threatened, Imogen storms out of the library in a huff without another word. But then Emma sees Imogen out in the parking lot screaming at Kanoa who had the misfortune of driving up just then. Imogen throws one of her spiked heels at Kanoa before zooming off in her sports car.<br />
<br />
Emma decides she's got one more thing to say to Kanoa ... so she corners him in the parking lot too. Everyone's looking out the windows by now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hbX7rmrg0SlVJOk6B7soqpDTlouOzNjEzjgSFLKk_884Rio9ad8sBX2DoNyltCfp5sFx0z6Kt4QO2d2bnUEDO8CMPLg2Lc6mbD1SqRfgGfawuY1kDvm5o7MT30_drM_2uCH5teIy481c/s1600/13+-+Screenshot-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hbX7rmrg0SlVJOk6B7soqpDTlouOzNjEzjgSFLKk_884Rio9ad8sBX2DoNyltCfp5sFx0z6Kt4QO2d2bnUEDO8CMPLg2Lc6mbD1SqRfgGfawuY1kDvm5o7MT30_drM_2uCH5teIy481c/s640/13+-+Screenshot-150.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I see now you never left our college days behind Kanoa Parrott. You had better wise up and GROW UP!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Kanoa gets a full lecture from Emma about his immaturity and irresponsible behavior as well as letting down his entire family. Kanoa hangs his head in shame, but Emma's not convinced. She knows he's just a scoundrel and will stay a party boy forever.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEe9hjVl7EIWJuG_8iz6IOeA1xjR2_CmCgnicWtDWUIh7iNXW18RkNDA3CTWE9IuIdO3nJzTEWeaLtUjZOSwWdOh5_7jwXAxdPtt3HOnBOdUIzSIQJog9D5fzVMvVWnu4w10cAJ3JyxXj/s1600/14+-+Screenshot-156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEe9hjVl7EIWJuG_8iz6IOeA1xjR2_CmCgnicWtDWUIh7iNXW18RkNDA3CTWE9IuIdO3nJzTEWeaLtUjZOSwWdOh5_7jwXAxdPtt3HOnBOdUIzSIQJog9D5fzVMvVWnu4w10cAJ3JyxXj/s640/14+-+Screenshot-156.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You could at least go see your kids and try to be a <i>Dad </i>since you fail so hard at being a <i>husband</i>!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Wow - you GO Emma!! </b><br />
<br />
Completely wound up, Emma decides she needs to calm down for a few minutes, so she slips into the small back patio of the salon and lays down on a lounge chair to try and get her breathing back to normal. For some reason she feels so angry and tense, and its made her belly start to hurt a little too ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVspjaaKWEatCkmY6R1dUDBRsNe8oCpS-txVNJyEuT7SsFnIuktE3tHEqklGW8-TGimznXkCzBxwSS6tNZ9V64W28Mtp5BtlKMtaZgU8MvDIFDZNZkOXoNEyLXnQeXh9dHYW1Wvay1cl91/s1600/15+-+Screenshot-148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVspjaaKWEatCkmY6R1dUDBRsNe8oCpS-txVNJyEuT7SsFnIuktE3tHEqklGW8-TGimznXkCzBxwSS6tNZ9V64W28Mtp5BtlKMtaZgU8MvDIFDZNZkOXoNEyLXnQeXh9dHYW1Wvay1cl91/s640/15+-+Screenshot-148.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma calms down and decides she's okay - ignoring the tiny little pains as nothing ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She gets an offer for a ride as she walks her bike slowly back towards home. It's Ruben Reid again, who keeps appearing like a knight on horseback - but this time its just a beat up old pickup truck. She accepts his offer as they're both going to Jacqueline's and he throws her bike in the back of the truck.<br />
<br />
At the party, Emma tries to concentrate on what Ruben's asking Jacqueline. The house feels too warm and there's far too many people here talking and laughing ... Emma feels claustrophobic and sweaty.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVKImFO6lkkqbVeCbwUHgVryhMa_YU3jvi1E_0hl5HgGZp4_om1pWT-IbJg6UHpwUy93fVFKi468kd4Ca_EUyF4rhCvoQ5oiwTYZQD2MtrYczJIhfy5vKpD7iACWDri76NqMBnIGdpuo4/s1600/16+-+Screenshot-172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVKImFO6lkkqbVeCbwUHgVryhMa_YU3jvi1E_0hl5HgGZp4_om1pWT-IbJg6UHpwUy93fVFKi468kd4Ca_EUyF4rhCvoQ5oiwTYZQD2MtrYczJIhfy5vKpD7iACWDri76NqMBnIGdpuo4/s640/16+-+Screenshot-172.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glazed smile. This is definitely not the usual Emma at a party ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All of a sudden, what had at first just been a little twinge made Emma double over in pain and cry out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s-oPFg3N6yFfkR_pMVkE1KGDPiCMbWJWE-5mB4D_KBtYjw4kxmXN3Toxcsm98WlBqwbxZ9zZ3inKmn7xGnpdFOrVnsrL6qTsOzM-RTwvpGnySAnsFWSDxGt1TerkohGpb0hzvyX_q18l/s1600/17+-+Screenshot-177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s-oPFg3N6yFfkR_pMVkE1KGDPiCMbWJWE-5mB4D_KBtYjw4kxmXN3Toxcsm98WlBqwbxZ9zZ3inKmn7xGnpdFOrVnsrL6qTsOzM-RTwvpGnySAnsFWSDxGt1TerkohGpb0hzvyX_q18l/s640/17+-+Screenshot-177.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A social butterfly's worst nightmare ... having your water break at a party with everyone watching (and freaking out)!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Everyone's useless, even Ruben Reid doesn't come to her rescue this time. Emma puffs and blows through the next rapid contraction and finally gets a minute to call Simon on her cell phone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgermMN1UJNFD4qROQUqRYOZrSsk63nvkg4uvxEfD8gyC5Wxo7b639ZQwkW0Gb1fy9Fq4VAvC72Q1GvjTR7n8gyDBBf4sBMva5na85aHNWL5K8BnDU9KMU1iaKP0hMoPO2mUXf3tiqhFvPn/s1600/18+-+Screenshot-179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgermMN1UJNFD4qROQUqRYOZrSsk63nvkg4uvxEfD8gyC5Wxo7b639ZQwkW0Gb1fy9Fq4VAvC72Q1GvjTR7n8gyDBBf4sBMva5na85aHNWL5K8BnDU9KMU1iaKP0hMoPO2mUXf3tiqhFvPn/s640/18+-+Screenshot-179.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So typical Sims ... everybody freak out instead of helping the poor lady get to the hospital!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon had just gotten home from work and was playing with Cupid when he gets the call from Emma.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_05AVxMIUdnSQe_YEWURXi2v0yGEoJ3-2-lq1td7617p90_W-N90RazeTLsq5B1wQ2EYzFF-GAm4oej7jduwxXbVTupTg7wGxMM2dg7QtyX1BCoLsZcLqa4GAsIJzg9gox_IUeQhBXcL/s1600/19+-+Screenshot-175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_05AVxMIUdnSQe_YEWURXi2v0yGEoJ3-2-lq1td7617p90_W-N90RazeTLsq5B1wQ2EYzFF-GAm4oej7jduwxXbVTupTg7wGxMM2dg7QtyX1BCoLsZcLqa4GAsIJzg9gox_IUeQhBXcL/s640/19+-+Screenshot-175.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That moment right before your entire life changes ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Fortunately she's only two houses away at the neighbor's so he rushes down the sidewalk to meet her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTa66nnODkdNVJQuyErzoOBWey0O8naSRS-lN3waNnpwAHGoQDGWr4upSvIWWdz3h3aovRNV2tJ-qPMm1S9vjVMHmIv5_v3kVWfuwXXNtZV9e46A4SWfrDTMBaKdAoWzRh_H4UVJ1hIAB/s1600/20+-+Screenshot-180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTa66nnODkdNVJQuyErzoOBWey0O8naSRS-lN3waNnpwAHGoQDGWr4upSvIWWdz3h3aovRNV2tJ-qPMm1S9vjVMHmIv5_v3kVWfuwXXNtZV9e46A4SWfrDTMBaKdAoWzRh_H4UVJ1hIAB/s640/20+-+Screenshot-180.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Just stand still ... I'm HERE!!" he yells.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
One of the few times they actually took a taxi anywhere (and he even got the carpool happy moodlet) ... to rush Emma to the hospital.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZE_3Ao-gwNIV4YnukmZ5xrJkQdQ6axSi6EPtc56i_3sbG1-9b4CCJRN4lVyuglWgsFcM2g_7wiLhDCGkAkua28jXTb4zVF5D0LVBPTRIlcWlkqXijMlufyU0br5mJbiXoX4Pz4Qk7l6vD/s1600/21+-+Screenshot-182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZE_3Ao-gwNIV4YnukmZ5xrJkQdQ6axSi6EPtc56i_3sbG1-9b4CCJRN4lVyuglWgsFcM2g_7wiLhDCGkAkua28jXTb4zVF5D0LVBPTRIlcWlkqXijMlufyU0br5mJbiXoX4Pz4Qk7l6vD/s640/21+-+Screenshot-182.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good job Dad-to-be - now get in there and have that baby!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Many long hours later and well into the night, almost nearing dawn, Emma gives birth to a healthy baby girl, who she names 'Isabel' after her best friend back in St. Claire who ran the Simfest what seemed like ages ago.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5s9s5HICZjL3XmcfFz-BFrV2sDSqMd9ASY97VTZFjfa7JNDfZR76tJh2FKsr2FGVVc_ri5FS69ASG0EjOUNDoKKjm6mMnLAJhQbOcFaID8H-X4iUlbY11ZKKZC7mCNpSWsrEjCjzjuCf/s1600/22+-+Screenshot-186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5s9s5HICZjL3XmcfFz-BFrV2sDSqMd9ASY97VTZFjfa7JNDfZR76tJh2FKsr2FGVVc_ri5FS69ASG0EjOUNDoKKjm6mMnLAJhQbOcFaID8H-X4iUlbY11ZKKZC7mCNpSWsrEjCjzjuCf/s640/22+-+Screenshot-186.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Mommy and Daddy, exhausted but headed home with a new daughter!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Isabel is already hungry as soon as they get home, so Emma feeds her and rocks her to sleep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jtzmYjSsWfELfFEZWFAMlxJn2IqEZYGm1qzY-WObLUs7MTpS9Zueh6ChxbhfSTo7_44CmaVn0eoJo9ld7rcpo2_lFKJyNkBjXb3SCW6adyVPfQre9aa-jRoqHeIYvUef2nqExYUf6foW/s1600/23+-+Screenshot-189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jtzmYjSsWfELfFEZWFAMlxJn2IqEZYGm1qzY-WObLUs7MTpS9Zueh6ChxbhfSTo7_44CmaVn0eoJo9ld7rcpo2_lFKJyNkBjXb3SCW6adyVPfQre9aa-jRoqHeIYvUef2nqExYUf6foW/s640/23+-+Screenshot-189.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're a hungry nooboo!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What a wonderfully happy ending to a very long and somewhat drama-filled day!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoZWYQbVZLwZEGrRyAQTY4u0OAfrNSu4VL7QLlbz2IOyttMGU5TBBslN_wtgkZ0TgetxdoUuz5M2DgN52F4Wm27CohnZTjHSFegOclk5ecptVcDvbfYVIbzNT69Vjb8huElA4XxiQQH9K/s1600/25+-+Screenshot-191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoZWYQbVZLwZEGrRyAQTY4u0OAfrNSu4VL7QLlbz2IOyttMGU5TBBslN_wtgkZ0TgetxdoUuz5M2DgN52F4Wm27CohnZTjHSFegOclk5ecptVcDvbfYVIbzNT69Vjb8huElA4XxiQQH9K/s640/25+-+Screenshot-191.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mommy bonding with baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Poor Cupid, temporarily forgotten in all the excitement, parks himself at the base of the stairs, where he can guard over the entrance to the baby's room as well as his beloved Sims upstairs, finally resting after a long night at the hospital.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlTrlqKsq9y8uG-Wl8CECsYq1dGNkd2Cx4jAbEwn7hbsmyqIr5DodcMmHg5mXZLiQ6sXOcyO8FzNhrDmqz9YHnYU9A1h8Kivsbbs_4b6atzx1rABfmy0f9ZXxDY2dXttMzxQK6mPM4O2Z/s1600/27+-+Screenshot-199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlTrlqKsq9y8uG-Wl8CECsYq1dGNkd2Cx4jAbEwn7hbsmyqIr5DodcMmHg5mXZLiQ6sXOcyO8FzNhrDmqz9YHnYU9A1h8Kivsbbs_4b6atzx1rABfmy0f9ZXxDY2dXttMzxQK6mPM4O2Z/s640/27+-+Screenshot-199.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The loyal friend sleeps, keeping an ear out for burglars or crying babies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Go <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/110-salad-days.html">HERE </a>to read the next chapter: 1.10 - "Salad Days"</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes: Such a fun chapter to write, sorry it's so long!<br />
<br />
- Imogen really did saunter up to Emma and start doing the 'crazy' routine (she's apparently got insane trait) to Emma, so it was just the perfect setup for some pre-labor anger explosion.<br />
<br />
- I had taken Emma all over town that day, knowing she would eventually go into labor. I had actually been shooting for the library doing it. But by evening, and the party, I started to think maybe I was off a day. I was thrilled when she did a dramatic party labor scene, haha! Completely unplanned there too.<br />
<br />
- Lastly, seeing Cupid sleeping at the foot of the stairs makes me sad because my beloved white shepherd used to do that same thing. She wanted to be able to see the front door while sleeping relatively nearby to warn us. She was such a wonderful watchdog. I miss her!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-87970782848361601382012-09-15T15:58:00.003-07:002012-09-17T06:33:46.311-07:001.8 - Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes** This chapter is dedicated to Simon. He's been a misunderstood fellow for much of the story and is about to become a Father. So I thought of the perfect song for Simon that fits him. An oldie classic I've always loved.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/LCgzX7vwlFk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Spring is a time for growing things. Everything (and everyone) in Appaloosa Plains definitely seems to be growing, expanding, and <i>changing </i>at a rapid pace!<br />
<br />
After Kanoa left, Jazlyn leaned heavily on her friendship with Emma for awhile as she recovered from having a baby and losing her husband. Emma tries to be the best friend possible, but reveals her pregnancy, which of course sends Jazlyn right off into more tears!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPy52U_GAbMBhMQGmdOroTegilxm-SfNjahoathAoA9Nt9vdiIcwNE9XgboLBtmXZMHdAZ7_pXgDjoxa068tiNxVeaTFja5DWbq6gOn8o1bc0wIaaT07cHpmL0nTMfzV_Kr6LMSwSAf8u/s1600/AHJaz+-+Em+and+Jaz+hug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPy52U_GAbMBhMQGmdOroTegilxm-SfNjahoathAoA9Nt9vdiIcwNE9XgboLBtmXZMHdAZ7_pXgDjoxa068tiNxVeaTFja5DWbq6gOn8o1bc0wIaaT07cHpmL0nTMfzV_Kr6LMSwSAf8u/s640/AHJaz+-+Em+and+Jaz+hug.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(I think Jazlyn's mood swings are starting to wear thin on Emma...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Jazlyn takes Emma up on the offer of a spa treatment and salon makeover package and gets her hair cut in a much more flattering bob style, though Emma's not sure the stylists in this small town are that talented ...<br />
<br />
(And here you all must have all thought Jazlyn meant something very bad when she said "cut it off" ... she just meant her <i>hair</i>!! *snicker*)<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32TMW5kb2rU7t6Y2IyO4X8E4ACkseEPj6hLZ-OjU6yxC3c0jUuWwJtxcnlIFd2jM7rUcOjJ5N188bZYFLcdeB6kf649z38Uiga5-dqu12-WJVUShwi4CtqK1mq5OonCEFQQDCV0-tUyyh/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32TMW5kb2rU7t6Y2IyO4X8E4ACkseEPj6hLZ-OjU6yxC3c0jUuWwJtxcnlIFd2jM7rUcOjJ5N188bZYFLcdeB6kf649z38Uiga5-dqu12-WJVUShwi4CtqK1mq5OonCEFQQDCV0-tUyyh/s640/Screenshot-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing what a little lipstick and a good eyebrow waxing will do! (and possibly some <i>botox </i>at the corner of the mouth?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma also convinces Jazlyn to get out of the house a bit more, and what better way than to socialize with the locals? They take a trip down to the river beach for some sun.<br />
<br />
However, while there, Jazlyn gets confronted by Cruz Martingale, the son of her ex-husband's lover Sofia. Emma tries to walk by and pretend she's not overhearing anything scandalous.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsBu_xF4aK7kS0-iiTDzXIRikTC8UdIETUj5zWpmS-WlpVPbvijd_T1grSl6Ail5hRIXroymFQpVLpxu1xwfFivBvLdmoO6L6uSYnInGSW4lopHf9GapeqvSdGBgUF3hnC7qCPerq5u-K/s1600/Beach+Visit3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsBu_xF4aK7kS0-iiTDzXIRikTC8UdIETUj5zWpmS-WlpVPbvijd_T1grSl6Ail5hRIXroymFQpVLpxu1xwfFivBvLdmoO6L6uSYnInGSW4lopHf9GapeqvSdGBgUF3hnC7qCPerq5u-K/s640/Beach+Visit3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently Cruz has the same ideas about what to do to Kanoa as Jazlyn!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon, working harder than ever now that a baby is on the way, puts in extra off-hours with his veterinary volunteer work for the community. It's a lot of work for no pay, but he hopes it will pay off in the long run.<br />
<br />
And it does!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj9mZvvGi273XfLYU-wJ8pKNs2z35C8aC7GkMY2tcyaOKXZtrXkVd5tqWx3czFVEa4RMn0RzWkOc2t_F6iTV5DL_WUS8GNfPULSMLeX-Q8r9thiy_OiZ3tBSCWpIOHBj2PI4wCqaeoRXb/s1600/Simon+Pet+Clinic5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj9mZvvGi273XfLYU-wJ8pKNs2z35C8aC7GkMY2tcyaOKXZtrXkVd5tqWx3czFVEa4RMn0RzWkOc2t_F6iTV5DL_WUS8GNfPULSMLeX-Q8r9thiy_OiZ3tBSCWpIOHBj2PI4wCqaeoRXb/s640/Simon+Pet+Clinic5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon finds the source of Skedaddle's odd behavior ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Honey Darnell, one of the town's celebrities and country music star, has a show horse she absolutely adores, but for a long time Skedaddle has refused to go into the ring and no one can figure out why. Simon, on one of his routine clinics, walks beside Skedaddle and notices she will only remain calm when he's on her left side. Careful investigation reveals that Skedaddle's right eye has gotten a cataract and she cannot see from that side, making her too nervous when approached wrong.<br />
<br />
Simon refers Honey to a well known horse surgeon who can come to town (for a pricey fee) and fix Skedaddle's bad eye. In the meantime, a haircut to keep her mane out of her eyes will help ease a little of her skittishness.<br />
<br />
Honey is so grateful to find out why her best friend has been so upset, she immediately goes to the science lab and meets with Simon's boss Kenji Midden (who I think she may be romantically involved with) and recommends Simon for an immediate promotion at work.<br />
<br />
And so Simon becomes a full time Lab Tech, with benefits. This could not have come at a better time!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3sCIQ9XdSSQIYWdA9tx2x2f7HPixNQuDD0wrMcvSuPr7lnRRRP-4GXnkkeK1Yxe6IM_NSYw_c9zW9dvJ1ruh4bwMapBngv0LudoSb6NcOzPcUcoOIlbCJRC5WsHoBEECYzdoEVVDiPbt/s1600/Screenshot-134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3sCIQ9XdSSQIYWdA9tx2x2f7HPixNQuDD0wrMcvSuPr7lnRRRP-4GXnkkeK1Yxe6IM_NSYw_c9zW9dvJ1ruh4bwMapBngv0LudoSb6NcOzPcUcoOIlbCJRC5WsHoBEECYzdoEVVDiPbt/s640/Screenshot-134.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon arrives home in his new lab coat, complete with pocket protector!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When Simon breaks the good news to Emma, she's appropriately thrilled for his success (and a big raise)!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoN6TJ_0k6_eXFEMOwVMEyyfDim7xGlSuvMs3n8rXRIaF6ApcsqRNaeV5tgX-l4yTAk0Omnmki02GxHzAbtQvpOwvpPzmBCkd2ORaHbTPQmAlAFRJFaU5491xnCcfvIrnSvJ3XtoX7UBT/s1600/Screenshot-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoN6TJ_0k6_eXFEMOwVMEyyfDim7xGlSuvMs3n8rXRIaF6ApcsqRNaeV5tgX-l4yTAk0Omnmki02GxHzAbtQvpOwvpPzmBCkd2ORaHbTPQmAlAFRJFaU5491xnCcfvIrnSvJ3XtoX7UBT/s640/Screenshot-34.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"YESS! *Fist Pumping* </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But first and foremost on Emma's mind is decorating the baby's room!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVTB92yoObSxYaZ9NMIgPTPSz6C4Sy22A-DyjpnA1hBpYBUfWD38SJRF0M4k7v91t-Pj-6fMEemJHjrQ9RnFErV3p3RPdSm80P1UY88bvAMx-4-fnIRn-QehUoGmkcql3v5R3otqZJnL6/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVTB92yoObSxYaZ9NMIgPTPSz6C4Sy22A-DyjpnA1hBpYBUfWD38SJRF0M4k7v91t-Pj-6fMEemJHjrQ9RnFErV3p3RPdSm80P1UY88bvAMx-4-fnIRn-QehUoGmkcql3v5R3otqZJnL6/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Can I get some custom wallpaper? I don't need a sofa yet ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And immediately has a small shopping spree to get the crib, colorful wallpaper, with matching bedding, curtains and a highchair.<br />
<br />
Now Simon is just going to have to work twice as hard!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FpRbjBOWVLAkVzf223pxERo27RtROrgQ0QoiyrtKf3IM46wQKbYSA6ANjig25aK49ykAaSgsmvrRF4U25YznsoYVXvwA_cTC7hLhUheiphSy5A1_zRV4PXADmciU3J8Jj4L075EqvREA/s1600/Screenshot-173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FpRbjBOWVLAkVzf223pxERo27RtROrgQ0QoiyrtKf3IM46wQKbYSA6ANjig25aK49ykAaSgsmvrRF4U25YznsoYVXvwA_cTC7hLhUheiphSy5A1_zRV4PXADmciU3J8Jj4L075EqvREA/s640/Screenshot-173.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The house is so tiny, the downstairs 'office' becomes the baby's room, with only room for a crib in a little nook!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon is warming up to the idea of Fatherhood and preparing his future son or daughter with a lot of careful (lovingly teasing) instructions.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcZdawBqShAS_bgQRoANNyJRiBnSsl-lTP53bdgTHh1DcS1prfMntL9Ihhp9Ik33W9RSX8TqYGymCgavdmZQd9wma_DVD4iT2I4o0WAs9mSIgPVl9yWVLqvCLqIAyaccq3Q_YS0RuK3Xo/s1600/15+-+Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcZdawBqShAS_bgQRoANNyJRiBnSsl-lTP53bdgTHh1DcS1prfMntL9Ihhp9Ik33W9RSX8TqYGymCgavdmZQd9wma_DVD4iT2I4o0WAs9mSIgPVl9yWVLqvCLqIAyaccq3Q_YS0RuK3Xo/s640/15+-+Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Your Daddy will teach you to fish, and Mama will spend all his money on expensive shoes for you!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma starts to get cravings in the middle of the night, for strange things like mac and cheese mixed with curry sauce ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsDWR8MpwuGWRhPDLSTCMOs3wmZJjXT4w1C38IArojpUQFU5oStv36V2oCckzT5Dr05G3cy_0iJ8OM43qWm-XQIPqdFZ5kdZOzP2hM0Q9bdnYLhIXnHkkY9u_scpzteLrSBGs1pkN7Jtm/s1600/9+-+Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsDWR8MpwuGWRhPDLSTCMOs3wmZJjXT4w1C38IArojpUQFU5oStv36V2oCckzT5Dr05G3cy_0iJ8OM43qWm-XQIPqdFZ5kdZOzP2hM0Q9bdnYLhIXnHkkY9u_scpzteLrSBGs1pkN7Jtm/s640/9+-+Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Ok, maybe this wasn't such a great idea ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But she remains determined to become a gardener too!<br />
<br />
Until she discovers the local deer are eating her crops ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aDq9-zzLXTh5yRTgDte261jDllt6k1KhoyOtVNMgdPmJNB8s8d4_5rjZdCLHxqxIIxpVMo7p1UbAfZDg6Tuh51MgQyDFAJKMGgc9SX9qZjqQCH2Fo7JtFA44WK8NgY10CviHJ2AiOl9q/s1600/10+-+Screenshot-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aDq9-zzLXTh5yRTgDte261jDllt6k1KhoyOtVNMgdPmJNB8s8d4_5rjZdCLHxqxIIxpVMo7p1UbAfZDg6Tuh51MgQyDFAJKMGgc9SX9qZjqQCH2Fo7JtFA44WK8NgY10CviHJ2AiOl9q/s640/10+-+Screenshot-24.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"They leave a <i>calling card </i>?! You have got to be kidding me."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So Simon builds her a small fenced enclosure, made appropriately from eco friendly up-cycled logs he salvaged from an old farm being torn down. Now the deer couldn't get in anymore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmSjG0vEoGJMwovGhyphenhyphenKpUzsYyI9Cn1nbgPcqaNcr23Gh7HYTVGTFZaGkM8Y3IhRbnLZiJA3Z8o7kAiJq2ioRdnDb6HcyPLaazq2qsgBD3NZn-Z1Lo70O2sBVX2_EjDpo2HxfEYxnXaT5a/s1600/11+-+Screenshot-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmSjG0vEoGJMwovGhyphenhyphenKpUzsYyI9Cn1nbgPcqaNcr23Gh7HYTVGTFZaGkM8Y3IhRbnLZiJA3Z8o7kAiJq2ioRdnDb6HcyPLaazq2qsgBD3NZn-Z1Lo70O2sBVX2_EjDpo2HxfEYxnXaT5a/s640/11+-+Screenshot-31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No trees, vegetables or starving deer were harmed in making this picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid is growing too!<br />
<br />
He shows a distinct protective personality, and keeps the 'evil Raccoon' out of the trash can and Emma's garden too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-uffDf0r0stMocBU56FcF39CjyeWP430xZbBzxvPHqFMZyddSaO3rSF38l9OochjlC9SNshUraKXNqWhkyTaN_aQwN9ZJvNRk_XYa4xSj_aH0A4pQURhcbvpkAqOo98t_xakSdH6vepn/s1600/12+-+Screenshot-63.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-uffDf0r0stMocBU56FcF39CjyeWP430xZbBzxvPHqFMZyddSaO3rSF38l9OochjlC9SNshUraKXNqWhkyTaN_aQwN9ZJvNRk_XYa4xSj_aH0A4pQURhcbvpkAqOo98t_xakSdH6vepn/s640/12+-+Screenshot-63.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"GRRR!! (brave lil' guy!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma rewards his bravery appropriately with tons of huggies and smoochies.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEanm6RFmXWdUc40yezRUWG3FZlWD7EPv1CVxFOiO2NX2NOnJ6dR-KpscAOdLP3QrUjTqZngD5sR3XMnd_djVOxFB_IWFB_q915IM872Gcj7LFfMxG9meVZX6DUQz8mpKSb0knLaFhLAoW/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEanm6RFmXWdUc40yezRUWG3FZlWD7EPv1CVxFOiO2NX2NOnJ6dR-KpscAOdLP3QrUjTqZngD5sR3XMnd_djVOxFB_IWFB_q915IM872Gcj7LFfMxG9meVZX6DUQz8mpKSb0knLaFhLAoW/s640/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You saved me! ...You are my hero, my little knight in fluffy armor and fangs!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And Cupid grows up into a handsome smokey colored mix of both his Mom and his Dad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvITTWAN_FgjGEkekZfzRw18vViSrAkFfRDUdR4PgBopSYfsQIZZNRbrILbvKoavLGNq11oGIup-oftiDEd3bdN9mnZlCZPfRd4aMJo0UO-oM859jhDnFC_8kgKRUnc8fkSidSvLa4IP6/s1600/14+-+Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvITTWAN_FgjGEkekZfzRw18vViSrAkFfRDUdR4PgBopSYfsQIZZNRbrILbvKoavLGNq11oGIup-oftiDEd3bdN9mnZlCZPfRd4aMJo0UO-oM859jhDnFC_8kgKRUnc8fkSidSvLa4IP6/s640/14+-+Screenshot-115.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey! Somebody replaced my little fur-ball with a gorgeous wolf!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cupid is very close to both Emma and Simon, and very protective, never leaving Emma's side when she gardens. And, he loves to give doggie-hugs!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHk8o5Q9Yg_Uw2aNK8ZBqGdOBxjAFFISyqqHZq5o2_7WCw9pa_JLtls5l9g4IuZk6LgWkiBXChM-DE33liREhRVuk5tLs8o0hzPYZM4WvBZa6ZksPxXvrWxm81hBRJr2F6S01pvyb9VlDf/s1600/16+-+Screenshot-117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHk8o5Q9Yg_Uw2aNK8ZBqGdOBxjAFFISyqqHZq5o2_7WCw9pa_JLtls5l9g4IuZk6LgWkiBXChM-DE33liREhRVuk5tLs8o0hzPYZM4WvBZa6ZksPxXvrWxm81hBRJr2F6S01pvyb9VlDf/s640/16+-+Screenshot-117.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I will keep you safe from ghosts!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And forms an especially tight bond with Simon, who spends long hours every evening training Cupid to hunt and do tricks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSm89W0IXXFvk30gaDpCvpulDP0EohU1pc6KFS9W19O7C6ov9fEoOoSex9WWtPuM3kIzMxGQaDTs0hNfa5WrcQgtkqu2IirVXikE7T_ZEXhH65WYnBGi-Jb2fntKgkJ0L1Uzw6vVzOi9Ku/s1600/17+-+Screenshot-120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSm89W0IXXFvk30gaDpCvpulDP0EohU1pc6KFS9W19O7C6ov9fEoOoSex9WWtPuM3kIzMxGQaDTs0hNfa5WrcQgtkqu2IirVXikE7T_ZEXhH65WYnBGi-Jb2fntKgkJ0L1Uzw6vVzOi9Ku/s640/17+-+Screenshot-120.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I LOVE MY SIM!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon tries to get Emma to go fishing with him after work, so they can catch specimens for his lab work and fertilizer for the garden.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWXc67Wc_1MuH3Qtzc3LZmb6K-mCjjyMZeV9y48jEipWQXAwXS8LwoQ3A-NhHFq7qiXOacwfJ6VSJsZORQIUlHuQBlV8DJ2TQP35J70Pcz6l26xIpSDilRJbHN-cnbOSH_LZ7zT5iuaId/s1600/18+-+Screenshot-104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWXc67Wc_1MuH3Qtzc3LZmb6K-mCjjyMZeV9y48jEipWQXAwXS8LwoQ3A-NhHFq7qiXOacwfJ6VSJsZORQIUlHuQBlV8DJ2TQP35J70Pcz6l26xIpSDilRJbHN-cnbOSH_LZ7zT5iuaId/s640/18+-+Screenshot-104.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But Emma thinks fishing is so boring, and way too <i>quiet</i>! (Nice high-waters there Simon!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ever the social butterfly, Emma prefers to spend most of her days out meeting other Mom-sims at neighborhood playgroups and meets the town's socialite upper class Mothers, who embrace her more sophisticated tastes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBY13OFVqvnyUEnreDeK_Haut8VYNUSYBwSjz3PlhSVqLOqboby5HOxqy466TMDXMye99b6l9X8siBXTYt3Nh-kjfzGoAeTUkWaivliQnMExa3Zdzn4YUNVUgRfrLow973EGE50t3XRGU6/s1600/19+-+Screenshot-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBY13OFVqvnyUEnreDeK_Haut8VYNUSYBwSjz3PlhSVqLOqboby5HOxqy466TMDXMye99b6l9X8siBXTYt3Nh-kjfzGoAeTUkWaivliQnMExa3Zdzn4YUNVUgRfrLow973EGE50t3XRGU6/s640/19+-+Screenshot-68.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hello, I'm Susannah Steele, we own 'Steele Stallions' a horse breeding ranch in the Valley"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Susannah is gorgeous, well dressed, and in her middle years. She has three young sons and is a successful businesswoman with the best horse breeding program in the entire region. She encourages Emma to follow her dreams and be a successful woman and Mother at the same time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrhLrjJ0rADejWdm3FsTot-1dRuYrRUimhaIfh3-Mv08sLPVnQCkZVC7X410RaQ8rp9RX9eX3RWCrhjIU5tNrwteBgttPtpE4yzlSMSP4lx_3dPYbj_N1GfE3tpiApx44c2e5Tae-Lczk/s1600/20+-+Screenshot-85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrhLrjJ0rADejWdm3FsTot-1dRuYrRUimhaIfh3-Mv08sLPVnQCkZVC7X410RaQ8rp9RX9eX3RWCrhjIU5tNrwteBgttPtpE4yzlSMSP4lx_3dPYbj_N1GfE3tpiApx44c2e5Tae-Lczk/s640/20+-+Screenshot-85.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You can do it Emma, things will get better, you'll see."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Simon shows up at the park where the playgroup is being held and joins Emma on a bench.<br />
<br />
He then proceeds to give an impromptu lecture about the breeding habits of wild squirrels, much to Emma's embarrassment.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_90YuaTvOsqW_K-Iho58KwX-osZCTYA2QcrjEqCvHgYTsy6LQZoi6z0swPgCNyT8imYyVbxRZJRUagaPhfaXR71W3wFpoTgcGWyOcYZUZltVhkLdEK-sY_dP4BnZLdYHtcXhnHRAMrLo/s1600/21+-+Screenshot-92.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_90YuaTvOsqW_K-Iho58KwX-osZCTYA2QcrjEqCvHgYTsy6LQZoi6z0swPgCNyT8imYyVbxRZJRUagaPhfaXR71W3wFpoTgcGWyOcYZUZltVhkLdEK-sY_dP4BnZLdYHtcXhnHRAMrLo/s640/21+-+Screenshot-92.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma is suddenly exceptionally engrossed in her book.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But in the end, Simon is just ... well, Simon. He's a science geek, he loves animals and is neurotically odd; but Emma loves him anyways!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOA3GcFY6F01NupI-b3x_eTvquaoeYk8mTlRgpZiTW7_U2RlzX_kOt_KbK4BKpgFJf7NLklaUwo7pqSNCE6Xi6fv9KrJVtD9DEyAwJutVZdBQ0SR9FBu3p9wqxZssOKsmG_VYFQJwjbWsD/s1600/22+-+Screenshot-94.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOA3GcFY6F01NupI-b3x_eTvquaoeYk8mTlRgpZiTW7_U2RlzX_kOt_KbK4BKpgFJf7NLklaUwo7pqSNCE6Xi6fv9KrJVtD9DEyAwJutVZdBQ0SR9FBu3p9wqxZssOKsmG_VYFQJwjbWsD/s640/22+-+Screenshot-94.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon: "Watcher help us, her baby smells like something died!!"<br />
Dog: "Dude, its a dirty diaper ... you better get used to it."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Read onward to Chapter 1.9 "Something in the water" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/19-something-in-water.html">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
**Notes: I really DID have good intentions of putting Emma's birth in this chapter, but it sortof took off on a mind of its own and I had so many fun screenshots I wanted to use during her pregnancy too! So, to be gentle on the chapter size, I decided to break it into two chapters, with this one for Simon, and the next one, obviously Emma's spotlight with having the baby!<br />
<br />
** Chapter 9 went up really fast, so the link is right above the notes ... Baby time!<br />
<br />
=)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95182997481000990.post-14784024062044014142012-09-14T00:11:00.001-07:002012-09-15T16:04:04.093-07:001.7 - Parrott Problems<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Despite Simon's obvious disdain for them, Emma cannot seem to keep away from the unfolding drama that is the Parrotts. She also feels quite sorry for poor Jazlyn, and when she gets a call from her saying that she's had the baby, Emma jumps at the chance for a visit.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKm9Ya0wsZgKgbrfc9zGwItrhHizRSEFdOCutiwLhy2RO90yMx4_w1QVu0l_DO5yft5L0Gg_03FIiMOPtukndu351nd0AFHMW2DIOX2PKwUuywvFOxOwIIIqsAfdss6WBP3Uf40rhuG26/s1600/1-BHJazlyn+Emma+visit+Jazlyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKm9Ya0wsZgKgbrfc9zGwItrhHizRSEFdOCutiwLhy2RO90yMx4_w1QVu0l_DO5yft5L0Gg_03FIiMOPtukndu351nd0AFHMW2DIOX2PKwUuywvFOxOwIIIqsAfdss6WBP3Uf40rhuG26/s640/1-BHJazlyn+Emma+visit+Jazlyn.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma's wondering if Simon will notice a credit card bill for some newly ordered maternity clothes...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Arriving at the Parrott's house, Jazlyn comes downstairs carrying her brand new little daughter, who she has named Malina. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU4b2942yMXG55y4hPTQWePOp5Ykx5-DXRWHqN5ZaLENnEKHtuM34tsOh06rAjgpVmjm2mU5E1BV-1EtE442P_VOTNkdjVlNm3AqWdQeC3urn7jfa_9ekHiiQ0cNY5V6JjCLrcCuVT30P/s1600/2-BHJazlyn+brings+home+Malina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU4b2942yMXG55y4hPTQWePOp5Ykx5-DXRWHqN5ZaLENnEKHtuM34tsOh06rAjgpVmjm2mU5E1BV-1EtE442P_VOTNkdjVlNm3AqWdQeC3urn7jfa_9ekHiiQ0cNY5V6JjCLrcCuVT30P/s640/2-BHJazlyn+brings+home+Malina.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hi Emma, I'm so glad you could come over, I need someone to talk to, the baby's keeping me up all night!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now Emma doesn't know a whole lot about Motherhood (yet), but she can tell when a Sim is run down and completely exhausted (red plumbob!).<br />
<br />
It doesn't look like Jazlyn's been getting any sleep, and she hasn't even changed out of her maternity clothes! Emma's also pretty sure Jazlyn's depressed, as she doesn't seem very excited about her brand new daughter!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumHvbVB7Lw9UnqUI88CPNfraebSVrHA5hqXHgNIM90Zsp1n75KRF9HphDGRmSsrODoDvSEQ3x8yQxh7IZ6faZYhkaJz8siv8xl2J4v2B5JZ1RGtDX4WV2G9kCDUkSC3K3I7DbecvwWuwU/s1600/3-BHJazlyn+not+a+happy+new+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumHvbVB7Lw9UnqUI88CPNfraebSVrHA5hqXHgNIM90Zsp1n75KRF9HphDGRmSsrODoDvSEQ3x8yQxh7IZ6faZYhkaJz8siv8xl2J4v2B5JZ1RGtDX4WV2G9kCDUkSC3K3I7DbecvwWuwU/s640/3-BHJazlyn+not+a+happy+new+mom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aww, poor Jazlyn, she never smiles! (I think she has postpartum depression)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After she gets the baby to sleep again, Jazlyn asks Emma to come into Kanoa's office. She then proceeds to show her a long sequence of chat conversations and emails, with some pretty graphic pictures, of the two women (TWO!) Kanoa's been having ongoing affairs with for the past months.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDOd1kBZJdT0ylTtIfsZ8ZyedIB6aGAHtA2tKed7PXpjN9GDueNQjtIc7dsOKWXJaTv_JT64sMbYuJrXGKpsgk-QmGQLUOm1x0Aef7mvErCLtG6IopX8wQ5501CcxCrVYquW5dMg0WwOw/s1600/4-BHJazlyn+shows+Emma+the+computer+proof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDOd1kBZJdT0ylTtIfsZ8ZyedIB6aGAHtA2tKed7PXpjN9GDueNQjtIc7dsOKWXJaTv_JT64sMbYuJrXGKpsgk-QmGQLUOm1x0Aef7mvErCLtG6IopX8wQ5501CcxCrVYquW5dMg0WwOw/s640/4-BHJazlyn+shows+Emma+the+computer+proof.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wow, I'm speechless ... these photos are ... uh ... disgusting!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma tells Jazlyn she should not have to put up with this horrible cheating anymore and is glad Jazlyn broke it off with that slimy Kanoa, but why is he still living in the house?<br />
<br />
Jazlyn explains how she has always wanted a big family and it just makes her sick to her stomach to get divorced, with a brand new baby and her older son Ethan suffering a broken home.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-eUXoezwSxb2-FUxmBO_cH6A5YgFTr74pLvDGpiAnMFc8uHuXiX0KOEUw7CmgM4Vf0pd7FR8FyEl2gPEc9WoEoU46VL4wyyQWGspxlyDFCcTy7gv3Y3i9rW5uNLbSN6-4JF4YGeVlqV1/s1600/5-BHJazlyn+feels+sick+for+broken+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-eUXoezwSxb2-FUxmBO_cH6A5YgFTr74pLvDGpiAnMFc8uHuXiX0KOEUw7CmgM4Vf0pd7FR8FyEl2gPEc9WoEoU46VL4wyyQWGspxlyDFCcTy7gv3Y3i9rW5uNLbSN6-4JF4YGeVlqV1/s640/5-BHJazlyn+feels+sick+for+broken+family.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Jazlyn you know you have to be brave and do the right thing. You deserve happiness too ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma's not sure if her advice is right to give, but she encourages Jazlyn to kick Kanoa out. If he was having an affair with two other women, while still married to her AND she was pregnant, he clearly has no respect for women <i>at all</i> and he'll just do it again if she lets him stay.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2l3GNF-d8OWFPijI-tEZNJfaXAW9aymRfp-ZL1xlGIoiqKpIICQ95Z7xQPeLSnEVht3K8NkBtcHpuw6tb1jpWrD3KDeY02IrHl10B4L3deAsp4LnrsH7xxaO50peBfGXzfZJnqx6dnrn/s1600/9-BHJazlyn+angry+again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2l3GNF-d8OWFPijI-tEZNJfaXAW9aymRfp-ZL1xlGIoiqKpIICQ95Z7xQPeLSnEVht3K8NkBtcHpuw6tb1jpWrD3KDeY02IrHl10B4L3deAsp4LnrsH7xxaO50peBfGXzfZJnqx6dnrn/s640/9-BHJazlyn+angry+again.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Grrrr... you're right Emma, he's just a <i>dog </i>and its time he hits the road!" (Be brave Jazlyn!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Jazlyn decides she's going to cut it off and kick him out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiz39rtT5C6T9md6BbfMx1qo6mLKUIH4SzPasX-wikntqmzGj5du6AZ4lG-utK1Px7LdNJumOZpsNNIz866HbyF7FcVIPVRTvgjtzZ9PZrgG0eXYJMKP3py1mJ5Ns6416PVemjT2U5pUsd/s1600/6-BHJazlyn+lost+in+death+thoughts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiz39rtT5C6T9md6BbfMx1qo6mLKUIH4SzPasX-wikntqmzGj5du6AZ4lG-utK1Px7LdNJumOZpsNNIz866HbyF7FcVIPVRTvgjtzZ9PZrgG0eXYJMKP3py1mJ5Ns6416PVemjT2U5pUsd/s640/6-BHJazlyn+lost+in+death+thoughts.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(If only Emma knew what Jazlyn <i>really </i>meant when she said 'cut it off' ... eek!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After that, Emma suggests some ways for poor Jazlyn to relax and regain some self esteem. First up, a change of new clothing, then a trip out somewhere nice and perhaps a visit to the spa or salon was in order!<br />
<br />
As it turns out, Jazlyn and Emma are about the same size, and Emma's got boxes full of designer clothes she can't wear now that she's wearing maternity (she hasn't told Jazlyn yet) - so she runs home to get some while Jazlyn takes a bubble bath to relax.<br />
<br />
One of the Parrott's many Parrots (yes of course they have parrots!) is squawking its head off, so while she waits for Jazlyn, Emma feeds the poor thing, which promptly tries to attack her through the food opening.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIt2m_QZtZiI-nvEtPydP8qiSmfOHf3v7nwgabSeNC2hYvihQFnj4j7B9Oga1qXKnbJ_A0gofWJPZfsRmUhseTBPBIM4sR_Y_OPKkYsKLdS34lBwgNlulyyaHFypU1zOnvfIUmmmP7ArI5/s1600/11-BHJazlyn+Emma+Helping+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIt2m_QZtZiI-nvEtPydP8qiSmfOHf3v7nwgabSeNC2hYvihQFnj4j7B9Oga1qXKnbJ_A0gofWJPZfsRmUhseTBPBIM4sR_Y_OPKkYsKLdS34lBwgNlulyyaHFypU1zOnvfIUmmmP7ArI5/s640/11-BHJazlyn+Emma+Helping+out.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You ungrateful beast, maybe you should just starve to death!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All that screeching has woken up the baby, so Emma gets her first chance to hold her while Jazlyn's in the bath.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUiL-KHaFfmSet9kKIJqTYotNXco_svZFrmz_tYiqcMot19obhTg7kojCuSc0sw97mPgb46wxbNe2ddLQPUybVt0BC0gA_-wmEX3R4VBCfNxo4d7L3gQl1Oypazgw6I2CW03M1xFr_K6O/s1600/12-BHJazlyn+Emma+Helping+out2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUiL-KHaFfmSet9kKIJqTYotNXco_svZFrmz_tYiqcMot19obhTg7kojCuSc0sw97mPgb46wxbNe2ddLQPUybVt0BC0gA_-wmEX3R4VBCfNxo4d7L3gQl1Oypazgw6I2CW03M1xFr_K6O/s640/12-BHJazlyn+Emma+Helping+out2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma hesitantly peers into the crib at this tiny new Sim ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But as soon as she picks Malina up and holds her close, Emma's amazed at how sweet and soft she is in her arms.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfQtBwDYoKT5sF0IBOKLvL2bS8n-R_X80sa1AjXVy8WherHI2O2xKbboO4DdEZ-rMZm3BnmzC8arn1rXFn1iyD-QwnTESLl3yTq4_UkgaQhfvGXj8csUoxiOAmeuvBNpvOFUEe4rLpomF/s1600/13-BHJaz+-+Em+falling+in+love+w+Malina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfQtBwDYoKT5sF0IBOKLvL2bS8n-R_X80sa1AjXVy8WherHI2O2xKbboO4DdEZ-rMZm3BnmzC8arn1rXFn1iyD-QwnTESLl3yTq4_UkgaQhfvGXj8csUoxiOAmeuvBNpvOFUEe4rLpomF/s640/13-BHJaz+-+Em+falling+in+love+w+Malina.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh my goodness aren't you just the sweetest little nooboo!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Right then and there, Emma knows she wants to be the best Mom she can be for her own little one when he or she comes along. Her determination to make her own marriage work is renewed. She and Simon may have issues, but thankfully nothing as terrible as the Parrott's problems!<br />
<br />
She makes a quick silent wish to the Watcher ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXVYPdGrsU5H6VKEOsg2nF6X8F0gsBpdZPbmcWez4QEulfupaoqXCBV-g6JyNSYEf82_TJJejWoa7btdn9cUfCZdsPh4GNqu55MAWTOM5L64_HXKMhdnDHkAxtOQOv-W-NmI6QUYwOE2m/s1600/14-BHJaz+-+Emma+rolling+eyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXVYPdGrsU5H6VKEOsg2nF6X8F0gsBpdZPbmcWez4QEulfupaoqXCBV-g6JyNSYEf82_TJJejWoa7btdn9cUfCZdsPh4GNqu55MAWTOM5L64_HXKMhdnDHkAxtOQOv-W-NmI6QUYwOE2m/s640/14-BHJaz+-+Emma+rolling+eyes.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please give me the patience to be a great Mama. Oh, and please don't let my husband find the credit card bills yet!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Finally Jazlyn is done getting ready. Emma tells her she looks very pretty (privately she's not so sure designer french fashion works for Jazlyn) ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6URFSHkE_S912oWDa0E28arjH-PMsT6usmPUz6A38sYIJhRuKa_znfKE2yrMs_-LyxhdqRQXdekMh_wzafidnqDaurj0wIYqGEGZt9-c-q8N5sHa9marwnGh5pm4by0euxz7YbZy5tgqa/s1600/15-BHJaz+-+Em+says+you+look+pretty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6URFSHkE_S912oWDa0E28arjH-PMsT6usmPUz6A38sYIJhRuKa_znfKE2yrMs_-LyxhdqRQXdekMh_wzafidnqDaurj0wIYqGEGZt9-c-q8N5sHa9marwnGh5pm4by0euxz7YbZy5tgqa/s640/15-BHJaz+-+Em+says+you+look+pretty.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You look pretty as a flower, don't you feel a little better now?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But no, Jazlyn does not feel better. Emma's going to have to pull out all the stops on this social job!<br />
<br />
She gets Jazlyn to talk about the baby, to help her feel some happiness about the birth. She remarks about what a sweet baby Malina seems to be and how lucky Jazlyn is to have a beautiful daughter. She asks Jazlyn where she chose the name Malina from, because its so pretty.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiigz7mQsKGowprw4TszsGtf4figihwwZOzaxAdH5uL5gRPYKywjpmKcTApRM0a1cjOnyY2j3jJCCDYjkAy5mjmQcoGZzNhOEXmwP3brssBK_qNZ7VfNAGPRg6bv5VvLBgZSZhdOlcFl7CK/s1600/16-BHJaz+-+explaining+Malinas+name.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiigz7mQsKGowprw4TszsGtf4figihwwZOzaxAdH5uL5gRPYKywjpmKcTApRM0a1cjOnyY2j3jJCCDYjkAy5mjmQcoGZzNhOEXmwP3brssBK_qNZ7VfNAGPRg6bv5VvLBgZSZhdOlcFl7CK/s640/16-BHJaz+-+explaining+Malinas+name.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Malina is a Hawaiian name meaning 'peace' or 'calm' ... I, guess I could use some of that right now ..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Emma definitely agrees! She decides to go book a spa and salon treatment package for Jazlyn in the next day or so.<br />
<br />
Jazlyn thanks Emma again for being such a great friend to her and tells her how she's really helped her feel braver about what she has to do.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxurlTwLCRWW5AZtBPKKJ9E8TwvhY2Cx8AjRdpUTURMe9XyRluKOOrJb2x4_BrludvIsWpqlWbseQzM9WkXXcFjUTW5ZaaOAd-K6amCEjf-Ct9tbXlMHouh7PYuDH4cXV1htM66Vo_pr4/s1600/18-BHJaz+-+telling+Em+she+saved+her.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxurlTwLCRWW5AZtBPKKJ9E8TwvhY2Cx8AjRdpUTURMe9XyRluKOOrJb2x4_BrludvIsWpqlWbseQzM9WkXXcFjUTW5ZaaOAd-K6amCEjf-Ct9tbXlMHouh7PYuDH4cXV1htM66Vo_pr4/s640/18-BHJaz+-+telling+Em+she+saved+her.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't know what I'd have done without you here Emma, I was starting to lose it and not even get out of bed!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
True to her word, Jazlyn takes the first opportunity she gets to confront Kanoa after he finally comes sauntering in after being 'out on business' for two days!<br />
<br />
At first Kanoa tries to act as if he's genuinely ashamed of being gone ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj76yrj63b3kpc0R2Gr8rAyg2uPbHqV9GE6shcY5x7dxW-hVuoHFPg_Av_f6N7FTIVzdAHdmRvfNTKOAGgFJDtT174IUWq-XvgHQS3kz3KyGIBxUWb_F80QYTYRDKmAFWGzd8D40U38uwhE/s1600/19-Parrott+Fight1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj76yrj63b3kpc0R2Gr8rAyg2uPbHqV9GE6shcY5x7dxW-hVuoHFPg_Av_f6N7FTIVzdAHdmRvfNTKOAGgFJDtT174IUWq-XvgHQS3kz3KyGIBxUWb_F80QYTYRDKmAFWGzd8D40U38uwhE/s640/19-Parrott+Fight1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You don't even think its slightly inappropriate to be gone for days after the birth of your child??"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But then Jazlyn goes straight to the attack and tells Kanoa she knows all about his love affairs ...<br />
<br />
"What??! ... <i>Cheating on you</i>?!?!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2bh4PsbQL1Uv49yB7GGmnEOj41-o9iCRyG_Kzg3NAlxt1mngmbf-RLwSuvG8wthR9fvPq48_KbYg1GiftYPOhMXkVD-9nLDpwMtaAY_UZ4Aa2J_S12KpT2ylK4mdxkLAzIeF_ybJs6X7/s1600/21-Parrott+Fight3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2bh4PsbQL1Uv49yB7GGmnEOj41-o9iCRyG_Kzg3NAlxt1mngmbf-RLwSuvG8wthR9fvPq48_KbYg1GiftYPOhMXkVD-9nLDpwMtaAY_UZ4Aa2J_S12KpT2ylK4mdxkLAzIeF_ybJs6X7/s640/21-Parrott+Fight3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't even try to play innocent, you're a lying cheating sim!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Kanoa demands to know what proof she has of these accusations!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXVStmaDqdmnO-FxwCY3a9n7VksJnmT6VMbnaJmH1o5MN-YkEkXLEWc5Xj0PZTjRslt6nnVYGOH1k48HXszL5SLVUvqSF6E-S-wSXML007ixpBCgfapSgcXlzsE9kKe3UbByVGSX5r_pD/s1600/22-Parrott+Fight4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXVStmaDqdmnO-FxwCY3a9n7VksJnmT6VMbnaJmH1o5MN-YkEkXLEWc5Xj0PZTjRslt6nnVYGOH1k48HXszL5SLVUvqSF6E-S-wSXML007ixpBCgfapSgcXlzsE9kKe3UbByVGSX5r_pD/s640/22-Parrott+Fight4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You think I don't know all about your fake computer <i>Waffle Account</i>?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Kanoa's suddenly silent and open mouthed as the full impact of his hidden secrets are realized.<br />
<br />
Jazlyn goes in for the final blow ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Tv-9ygG-3DCloA-RJLbKa8Ou5RppEkbWb1PGK5r05y5zo5iqDsSh-1eL6G5n_RY7EGkhkJX6iI5Oh00L2g5X4nJyIknW_IHU6okIV7u_wyOf4wqpMfhiQJ2H57yIZnYxWJp-yMcReKSy/s1600/26-Parrott+Fight8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Tv-9ygG-3DCloA-RJLbKa8Ou5RppEkbWb1PGK5r05y5zo5iqDsSh-1eL6G5n_RY7EGkhkJX6iI5Oh00L2g5X4nJyIknW_IHU6okIV7u_wyOf4wqpMfhiQJ2H57yIZnYxWJp-yMcReKSy/s640/26-Parrott+Fight8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You're a lying WAFFLE and I want you OUT of this house immediately!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Kanoa is NOT amused.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5j3uwh3nSziHnRjAzmT8ZgJIFZUGn0IUHKh5JBnj64lfE854ejq4n3uszhQSPC1u7vmMASmTwJbsVeTY6cBaXNlOku_YUtWWEs4Xs1HvlDR6onS9LWsZCDyGVI8AJ7mV80Xpjy8RttYAp/s1600/25-Parrott+Fight7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5j3uwh3nSziHnRjAzmT8ZgJIFZUGn0IUHKh5JBnj64lfE854ejq4n3uszhQSPC1u7vmMASmTwJbsVeTY6cBaXNlOku_YUtWWEs4Xs1HvlDR6onS9LWsZCDyGVI8AJ7mV80Xpjy8RttYAp/s640/25-Parrott+Fight7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wait .... wait ... did you just call me a ... <i>Waffle</i>?!?!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Why yes, yes she did Kanoa. You're done for dude.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-Of6TvDs3hyphenhyphenlsxXQlmuKtu_07WcgKCMKcZNdpB9jIKgoTxqhULzx-p4PXZ7dUNbSIh_zIJ17FAe6LA3cz3ZR7U-dogHssS5_R5kyrQAhsIDiy-aHSwVd5QR6CFeDkWVtTEHsFLIaJCB7/s1600/27-Parrott+Fight9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-Of6TvDs3hyphenhyphenlsxXQlmuKtu_07WcgKCMKcZNdpB9jIKgoTxqhULzx-p4PXZ7dUNbSIh_zIJ17FAe6LA3cz3ZR7U-dogHssS5_R5kyrQAhsIDiy-aHSwVd5QR6CFeDkWVtTEHsFLIaJCB7/s640/27-Parrott+Fight9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Waffle Waffle Waffle!!!" (And the dreaded double red minus!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Kanoa stands there silently for a minute, then shrugs flippantly and pulls out his cell phone to call a cab. He claims he'll go stay with his brother Kale, but I think we can reasonably guess he's lying there too!<br />
<br />
(Especially since Kale and Kanoa are already bitter enemies)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyEQfLMrK6UPWk78dxNQrlX8ZdPvpr7c8F2sYTHSd_Kij9Z-XxHuDXmFnB7qwj4yVfi9Nh8iUOa67ISPnEV8N0qiDEEYmsp-As3N1UuNHstXqDdbSBPeIK6lOognWWSEUBKRqdB7OuOXhW/s1600/30-Parrott+Fight12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyEQfLMrK6UPWk78dxNQrlX8ZdPvpr7c8F2sYTHSd_Kij9Z-XxHuDXmFnB7qwj4yVfi9Nh8iUOa67ISPnEV8N0qiDEEYmsp-As3N1UuNHstXqDdbSBPeIK6lOognWWSEUBKRqdB7OuOXhW/s640/30-Parrott+Fight12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Kanoa, you better get that cab called quick dude, she's thinking about daggers again ...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Of all the things Kanoa should be doing as his home-life starts to crumble in front of him, he decides to go say farewell to his stupid mean parrot instead of, you know, his new <i>baby</i>, or his older son. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsIq8D0UbGVdlZ-__iJk0pJgEMfOdwABPBWDCVu-60ZYw5zR-w9l1wdX903eRq-_Z4wa-JzIH3cFc1yQZjZGpBb0bKCrehigSWl4E5g9hcUmpgxF3HmcuH8KBNofxc8Kah_FygAxG9QJV/s1600/31-Parrott+Fight13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsIq8D0UbGVdlZ-__iJk0pJgEMfOdwABPBWDCVu-60ZYw5zR-w9l1wdX903eRq-_Z4wa-JzIH3cFc1yQZjZGpBb0bKCrehigSWl4E5g9hcUmpgxF3HmcuH8KBNofxc8Kah_FygAxG9QJV/s640/31-Parrott+Fight13.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My old buddy, remember there's always more finely feathered ladybirds out there!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And so Kanoa Parrot packs a bag and heads out the door to the waiting cab without so much as a backwards glance to his house or his entire family. Jazlyn stands at the door sadly holding the baby he never even bothered to meet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiXMXukY2qJGbM8srpsIY0aG264UWwywP2f-TtXBlbFQbQN5ovreS3NRyffeTuK9aOrXV7z7rwM8H09UUPWTzcfSOfCpJIBQCPGCb97li5gKr5UYlgmIUnvgG8DZbcG4lgmVfQDkX_G-A/s1600/32-Parrott+Fight14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiXMXukY2qJGbM8srpsIY0aG264UWwywP2f-TtXBlbFQbQN5ovreS3NRyffeTuK9aOrXV7z7rwM8H09UUPWTzcfSOfCpJIBQCPGCb97li5gKr5UYlgmIUnvgG8DZbcG4lgmVfQDkX_G-A/s640/32-Parrott+Fight14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good riddance to you both! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Read on to Ch. 1.8 - "Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes" <a href="http://envie42.blogspot.com/2012/09/18-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.html">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
A chapter entirely without any Simon at all!<br />
<br />
I felt that the Parrotts deserved their very own soap opera chapter since their break up was so epic and Kanoa has such a horrible womanizer reputation now haha!<br />
<br />
I hope you enjoyed the funnies. I promise to get back to the cute family-in-the-making next chapter!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Vexarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03440419431876390389noreply@blogger.com10