tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-329663982024-03-07T13:33:19.328-06:00Knights Who WritesListen here.Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.comBlogger323125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-4415776610787081182010-01-25T10:45:00.002-06:002010-01-25T11:04:34.845-06:00Lunch Recipe ShareToday for Arlo's lunch (and mine), I amended a basic "spaghetti" recipe that the Divine Miss E (head of nutrition program at Iowa City Montessori) makes for kids at her school. It just goes to show how easy it can be to make a reasonably healthy and quick lunch for your kid's lunchbox. Now, why can't our public schools be serving foods like this?<br /><br />It goes something like this:<br /><br /><ul><li><strong>Pasta</strong>. I used rotini, E usually uses angel hair. You could easily slip in a whole-wheat variety here.</li><li><strong>Sauce</strong>. Just a few spoonfuls, to keep it mild for Arlo's palate--also to obscure the fact that it has sauce on it, since Arlo's is convinced that he doesn't like sauce. (He does.) E's recipe (and mine) uses pesto.</li><li><strong>Your kid's favorite veggie</strong>. I threw chopped carrots in with the pasta during the last 5 mins of boil time. E uses tomatoes--usually grape tomatoes, but maybe sometimes sliced Romas? (Arlo genuinely doesn't like tomatoes. Yet.) And don't forget to throw in a healthy handful of chopped, uncooked spinach right after you drain the pasta--the heat and moisture from the noodles is sufficient to cook it, and all of the nutrients stay in the meal.</li><li><strong>Cheese</strong>. Feta and parmesan, in our case.</li></ul><p>You can pack this along as a pasta salad (if your kid will eat it cold) or send it in a thermos, like we do. Just don't forget to include a fork!</p><p> </p>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-62305093669262322442010-01-15T16:23:00.005-06:002010-01-15T16:37:50.027-06:00Fed Up: Be Very Afraid.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYkVoRjiv7gl15VTk80u1YRDZQWJ7l9GAH1-0XRrW2U0ze3NHXuaKK9o9CwEAAX7CmlRbP6cZEPsdKmaVuanYqyjxj3aYXPPuSFxSONH_qyfy08APIFnfDE7z2I6_xddQRl2cDZQ/s1600-h/salisburysteak.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427098424559423346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYkVoRjiv7gl15VTk80u1YRDZQWJ7l9GAH1-0XRrW2U0ze3NHXuaKK9o9CwEAAX7CmlRbP6cZEPsdKmaVuanYqyjxj3aYXPPuSFxSONH_qyfy08APIFnfDE7z2I6_xddQRl2cDZQ/s320/salisburysteak.jpg" /></a>Parents of public-school children, please take a look at this new blog. Mrs. Q, a public-school teacher in Illinois, <a href="http://fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-9-pizza.html">has pledged to eat school lunch with her students every day in 2010</a>. She posts each day's meals on the blog.<br /><div></div><br /><div>You might be alarmed, and you'll probably be disgusted. You likely wouldn't want to eat most of this food yourself, especially if you're trying to make healthy, sensible choices in your diet. </div><br /><div></div><div>I made additional comments in response to Mrs. Q's post yesterday. I'd re-post them here, but can't seem to get Blogger to play nice and let me copy and paste my comment, so just look for it on the post from Thursday, January 14.</div><div> </div><div></div><div>No, Arlo doesn't eat school lunch. That decision is very strongly reinforced by the content on this blog so far.</div><div> </div><div></div><div>What do you think we can do as parents to make the school-lunch program better? I know that packing a lunch for Arlo every day makes HIS diet better than that of his classmates--but what about those kids that have to eat school lunch every day? What can we do for them?</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-21285537756741340042009-12-15T14:08:00.004-06:002009-12-15T14:48:25.520-06:00Looking for a square hole for our little square peg...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujItffdY25raL5ciSpEDzWkBjJUM5uPUMECBbTRdEohYwcY02zZizqyITGshhkYh7sBeupg7yKDEs5ypVVuoPW_fWDGHvoB6KMxZtiEKREAo1GBEHgIIoiVdxcyMV8YseSk16tQ/s1600-h/IMG_7486.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415565789764464210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujItffdY25raL5ciSpEDzWkBjJUM5uPUMECBbTRdEohYwcY02zZizqyITGshhkYh7sBeupg7yKDEs5ypVVuoPW_fWDGHvoB6KMxZtiEKREAo1GBEHgIIoiVdxcyMV8YseSk16tQ/s320/IMG_7486.JPG" border="0" /></a>I want to express my sincere thanks to all of you for your support and input as we've been going through some uncertainty with Mae's situation at daycare.<br /><br />We had a productive conversation with our childcare provider last night, and came up with some routine tweaks that might help lessen the issues that she is having with Mae's behavior (notice I did not say "Mae's behavior issues"), and we'll just have to wait and see how things go.<br /><br />The main upshot at this point is that Mae will be staying where she is for the time being, and we are working together to improve the situation. We'll be monitoring things closely, asking detailed and frequent questions about her progress. And we'll belooking into what other options are available, where Mae might find a setting that better suits her as she develops.<br /><br />I want to be clear that we still feel that our current care provider gives wonderful, loving, and expert care to the children--and we are not suggesting otherwise. She has cared for both of our children since birth (Arlo until he was 4-1/2), and has been a treasured and very important part of our family up until now (which, as an aside, is part of why it cuts deep that we feel she didn't communicate with us on a pretty basic level about what was going on with Mae). Anyway, it just seems like her way of doing things--with a distinct emphasis on keeping with a schedule and doing the same thing every day--though it is very effective and it worked for Arlo--might not be the best fit for Mae's personality as she grows.<br /><br />We're open to leads and suggestions, whether they are for daycare openings in Iowa City or pointers for collaborating with your child's care provider/teacher/etc. It's not that we're looking for chaos--we just feel like Mae could use a little more flexibility, a little more room to be the independent little firebrand that you KNOW she's destined to be. (Ahem. See the tree from whence the nut came, right?)<br /><br />Thanks for your love and support for all of us, especially Mae.Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-78988174170067641282009-12-11T13:37:00.002-06:002009-12-11T14:01:17.216-06:00Mama Bear and the DaycareOur daycare provider has "issues" with my daughter's behavior that she thinks might warrant Mae's removal from the daycare. However, this is the first I've heard of any problem AND the behavior is not exhibited at home. What to do?<br /><br />Our care provider tells me that Mae (2) "screams" all day and won't nap. She says that Mae keeps the other kids awake when they should be napping--by said screaming and jumping up and down in her port-a-crib. She also tells me that Mae has been aggressive with the other children (who are 1, 1-1/2, and 2-1/2) and "cannot be left alone with them without supervision" for any reason. Also? Apparently Mae doesn't eat very well.<br /><br />All of these things have apparently been going on for a while, according to my phone conversation with the caregiver this morning--the napping problem "since she was an infant"--but honestly, I had no idea. Even though she fusses a little (okay, sometimes a LOT) about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">naptimes</span> and bedtimes at home, she doesn't scream bloody murder or go on a rampage. And I've only seen her lay a hand on another kid when she's stroking a baby's hair, or doling out hugs and kisses to her friends.<br /><br />When I pick up Mae from daycare, I often ask, "How was the day today?" or some other open-ended question to invite communication, and never have I heard any complaints. Mae always seems happy and relaxed when we pick her up, and she never resists going to daycare in the morning. So I was just completely blindsided by the phone call this morning, and I don't know how to respond.<br /><br />We have been with the same child care provider since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Arlo</span> was eight weeks old, with both of them in her care together for some of that time. She lives across the street from us. She has always been wonderful with the children, and though our personalities are different, we've always given her the benefit of the doubt because she's just so good at her job, and she apparently adores the children. She even said that she has "been strong for so long" with regard to Mae's behavior because she loves Mae so much, and she recognizes our history with her and didn't want to cause any trouble. But then, practically in the same breath, she suggested that we "might want to consider a different day care situation" for her. (Me: stunned.)<br /><br />I won't go into the details, but I believe that a lot of Mae's so-called behavior problems can be fixed, if we work together--and I am dismayed that we were not asked sooner to be a part of the solution. I am also feeling rejected and hurt on Mae's behalf, and defensive about someone finding fault with her, even though Mae (of course) had no inkling of the conversation we're having. Part of me wants to just pull her out of daycare and wrap her up in my arms and never let ANYONE say anything negative about her, EVER. (I am going to be in a world of hurt when Mae goes to junior high, I'm sure.)<br /><br />But then, I acknowledge that Mae's not perfect and that if she is causing problems for the other kids, we need to address that. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aMLTlDCTYk">"If there was a problem, YO, I'll solve it." </a>But why did our trusted caregiver have to allow the situation to reach a crisis level before bringing us into the equation?<br /><br />Is my babysitter afraid of me? Are there underlying, non-Mae-related issues that are not out in the open? Am I in denial? Is my sweet, two-year-old daughter really just an insomniac tyrant in comfy, brightly-colored knit clothing? And not to be a drama queen, but just in case... Does anyone know of an awesome daycare provider with immediate-to-near-immediate openings?Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-83419578405267187822009-09-15T14:35:00.002-05:002009-09-15T14:39:24.423-05:00The Art of Marriage<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1o6qaWElLRY_TZWLiXQJp5tzmfd03A9JR3z0h7QGCsL7LaD_d3Wdu6GZwKUS6WHLUs_SAWFbJJ8YVgFG7GJy0d4taIr31An0MnD97eRAkC5gBusA4TLtbF2dpkJ55_dRirCfUA/s1600-h/engaged.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381781034127555074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1o6qaWElLRY_TZWLiXQJp5tzmfd03A9JR3z0h7QGCsL7LaD_d3Wdu6GZwKUS6WHLUs_SAWFbJJ8YVgFG7GJy0d4taIr31An0MnD97eRAkC5gBusA4TLtbF2dpkJ55_dRirCfUA/s320/engaged.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A dear friend shared this with me earlier this summer, and today, as I reflect on the past eight years of my life with my wonderful husband, I wanted to "re-gift" it here because it's an important reminder that any true and good relationship must be created, nurtured, built over time. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Marriage is an art unto itself. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>"The Art of Marriage" by Wilfred Arlan Peterson</strong> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The little things <em>are</em> the big things. </div><br /><div>It is never being too old to hold hands. </div><br /><div>It is remembering to say "I love you" at least once a day. </div><br /><div>It is never going to sleep angry. </div><br /><div>It is at no time taking the other for granted; the courtship should not end with the honeymoon, it should continue through all the years. </div><br /><div>It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives. </div><br /><div>It is standing together facing the world. </div><br /><div>It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family. </div><br /><div>It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy. </div><br /><div>It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. </div><br /><div>It is not expecting the husband to wear a halo or the wife to have wings of an angel. </div><br /><div>It is not looking for perfection in each other. </div><br /><div>It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding and a sense of humor. </div><br /><div>It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. </div><br /><div>It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. </div><br /><div>It is finding room for the things of the spirit. </div><br /><div>It is a common search for the good and the beautiful. </div><br /><div>It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal, dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is not only marrying the right partner, <em>it is being the right partner</em>.</div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-30232484791199464122009-09-09T10:55:00.001-05:002009-09-09T10:55:20.952-05:00Scenes from the Eat-In<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/newpioneerfoodcoop/3900855719/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2468/3900855719_6c1e671a89_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/newpioneerfoodcoop/3900855719/">Board Member Jen Knights and daughter Mae</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/newpioneerfoodcoop/">New Pioneer Food Co-op</a></span><br clear="all" /><p>Labor Day "Time For Lunch" Eat-In, hosted by our local chapter of Slow Food U.S.A., at City Park in Iowa City. The event--and hundreds like it across the country--was designed to focus attention on school lunches and to encourage people to call on Congress to make REAL FOOD the standard in public schools.</p>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-52804729933482245892009-09-09T09:33:00.001-05:002009-09-09T09:33:32.188-05:00swimmingpool!<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="260" height="195" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=314249b848&photo_id=3903895896&flickr_show_info_box=true"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=314249b848&photo_id=3903895896&flickr_show_info_box=true" height="195" width="260"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iowah/3903895896/">swimmingpool!</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/iowah/">knights_writes</a></span></div><br clear="all" />Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-82551107524717410192009-09-08T10:33:00.003-05:002009-09-08T10:43:20.995-05:00Wanty Want Want WAAAAAANT<div>I really do need new boots this winter, since the boots I bought last year were secondhand, and have already begun allowing water to seep through the soles. </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Y1qeNf0iwXAcZp_PlO7S7OzW5NJQjm_TR5_tUGVrLfRAU1957wOAlJ7450LbfO8L2sqrehucu9DeXOTQZHiUBEJ2vtROg0Bkd-VWc1g4-56RggmcsirRCfK-5kw-7PrmQC-PLg/s1600-h/reikerboots.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379120303981429298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Y1qeNf0iwXAcZp_PlO7S7OzW5NJQjm_TR5_tUGVrLfRAU1957wOAlJ7450LbfO8L2sqrehucu9DeXOTQZHiUBEJ2vtROg0Bkd-VWc1g4-56RggmcsirRCfK-5kw-7PrmQC-PLg/s400/reikerboots.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>The $165 price tag is pretty far outside of my comfort zone, but I understand that it's actually a reasonable market price for well-heeled (ha) footwear. Unfortunately, my hemming and hawing about the price means that I missed the Labor Day sale (20% off), which would have saved me $33. Guess I'll wait and see if another sale comes along later this fall...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVo07auPvpIRWMjLboT36U_bwDeFUSn6_z4EKv0wkybG0QYZQQIQ5sbyas78DASOCkbKGqmc5B3PTBC53MNRUAhaVETN0apnJyY1Rr8NZJHQogez6uRaXvIXJkNyuJSEbbDP08Mg/s1600-h/reiker.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379120608318613650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 90px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVo07auPvpIRWMjLboT36U_bwDeFUSn6_z4EKv0wkybG0QYZQQIQ5sbyas78DASOCkbKGqmc5B3PTBC53MNRUAhaVETN0apnJyY1Rr8NZJHQogez6uRaXvIXJkNyuJSEbbDP08Mg/s400/reiker.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>I'll definitely wait until after my wedding anniversary. (Ahem.)</div><div> </div><div>Be patient, my dearies. Mama's gonna try and get you shipped home real soon. </div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-46795241858915393922009-09-04T21:29:00.002-05:002009-09-04T21:35:51.615-05:00What do you think?Downtown today, I saw a family crossing the street in front of me, the dad leading a towheaded 3-year-old girl by the hand. I heard a horn honking, and saw a car coming toward them. The car slowed down and yelled something out the window at the family, and they yelled back, incensed that this jerk had nearly run them over.<br /><br />The thing is, this family had crossed the street on a solidly red light. The car completely had the right of way, and that family seemd to have completely ignored the light.<br /><br />On the one hand, I thought the guy in the car may have been a little over the top to yell and honk... but he had a point. I thought it was irresponsible to go leading a small child out into traffic. In fact, when we have the kids with us, we have a habit of waiting for the "walk" light to cross, even when there's no cross traffic in sight.<br /><br />Whose side would you take in the argument?Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-72484347812604247982009-09-04T16:44:00.005-05:002009-09-10T14:50:46.563-05:00Random Campus ObservationsToday as I was walking across the UI campus, I fell in step behind a pair of college girls, and managed to overhear one of them saying "Ohmigod, I feel so *old*!" I wanted to spit my gum into her pretty blonde hair. (I did no such thing.)<br /><br /><div></div><div>Also... I stopped in to get a University ID card (to which I am entitled as a UI Foundation staffer) so that I can get the software discount at the UI bookstore to buy the software that really should have come with my computer, which came loaded with MS Office but didn’t didn't come with Word BECAUSE MICROSOFT IS A STEAMING PILE OF GREEDY BASTARDS DIPPED IN MELTED BASTARDS WITH CRUNCHY BASTARD COATING.</div><br /><div></div><div>ANYway. This little college girl was talking on the phone while she is gesturing with her hands to guide me through the picture-taking sequence, and I was totally looking at her instead of the camera when she snapped the photo.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_vsmcbj70Ts7OHg7CDqXqp_HBbyfgN2Gu6fn4gVYoKcZvxv50Ji3g4Rr_Z4lNZw9cU-W903BOlGwVAH63VCTvbZvdmWhHsK6ihn8DPu6zr_lHcZC31KVtptUJNf-DY-dw5Nbiw/s1600-h/MansonGirl_blurred.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379928352727964626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_vsmcbj70Ts7OHg7CDqXqp_HBbyfgN2Gu6fn4gVYoKcZvxv50Ji3g4Rr_Z4lNZw9cU-W903BOlGwVAH63VCTvbZvdmWhHsK6ihn8DPu6zr_lHcZC31KVtptUJNf-DY-dw5Nbiw/s400/MansonGirl_blurred.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Derrrr.</div><br /><div></div><div>I don’t know how well you can see this, but the photo is actually sort of horrifying. I look like one of the Manson Family gals, freshly brainwashed and ready to KILL. Because I love Charlie, and he is Jesus.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpwi46gevxBpQk7yEvWqNkomYgApwMlWRJjagcoTwIO8Xxcur22xsVLO_vxL8bByYt0RM8y3AYNiAuqGV0IZ3niBzyCFTu7QAsj6lbkHlBL9taTkvJJf4PC3teCyPPPX2ZsirzA/s1600-h/MansonGirl.jpg"></a></div><br /><div>P.S. I don't hate college girls. They just weren't my favorite among God's creatures today.</div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-71708648694269986102009-08-13T12:02:00.003-05:002009-08-13T12:13:05.304-05:00Leftovers never had it so good.<div>Night before last, we dined on B.S.T. (bacon, sprouts, tomato) sandwiches, just like they used to have on the Deli menu at New Pioneer Co-op. The other wonderful twist besides substituting sunflower sprouts for the lettuce? A slice of feta cheese on top to up the flavor ante.</div><br /><div></div><div>Might I suggest--if you should ever try this clever and delicious take on the humble (but wonderful) B.L.T., go ahead and fry up a whole pound of bacon, because you're gonna want to try this salad for your desktop lunch later in the week:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROvaoW73hjnYjR0FQkE6ozPT6LBTdiRFT0yVTIC85yem0yunLBMLtc-qYKLXmdIVmj_FfCmZDESyOG83Pcu5yWSNUe2C3y_BH1GDAHGTNAImmsMts8903FIyao8a34eGc70_TQQ/s1600-h/bst+salad+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369496652350425202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROvaoW73hjnYjR0FQkE6ozPT6LBTdiRFT0yVTIC85yem0yunLBMLtc-qYKLXmdIVmj_FfCmZDESyOG83Pcu5yWSNUe2C3y_BH1GDAHGTNAImmsMts8903FIyao8a34eGc70_TQQ/s400/bst+salad+2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>I chopped up a couple of slices of the leftover cooked bacon, crumbled some of the leftover feta, and chopped a few leftover tomato slices, then tossed all of these and a handful (okay, two hands full) of leftover sunflower sprouts on top of a bed of baby romaine lettuce, and drizzled with Annie's Goddess dressing, and <em>voila!</em></div><div> </div><div>Lunch is served.</div><div> </div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-58564528604453251122009-08-12T10:33:00.005-05:002009-08-12T10:45:23.903-05:00two birds with one blog post<div><div><div><div><div>Just so you know, I have been incredibly productive this summer--churning out reams of elegant prose (at work), installing new exterior lights on my house, planting and marveling at a king's crop of Jack-Be-Little pumpkins, waiting for the weather to get hot enough to make my tomatoes turn red, spending all kinds of quality time with the kids (and with Facebook), getting Arlo ready for Kindergarten, and planning a dreamy trip to Vermont (Mara and I leave one week from tomorrow).</div><br /><div>In the mean time, certain things have not been getting much attention, one of which is the blog and one of which is my knitting. With this post today, I hereby officially throw my hat back into the ring--both as a blogger and as a knitter.</div><br /><div></div><div>Behold:</div><br /><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj1XPnuXcF_beoHkItfluOhJa01V-FgGUFN7jGP79Ziq8GGeITy-TXgL41GvVK9JW5aqm4WFoHQd_wlwHlh5laHAYbXxy2_aswmTc2XFb1uvsD3O2Bq3xzqpDiaZ7c_37Mybr7g/s1600-h/Aug+12+09+029.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369102112765871250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj1XPnuXcF_beoHkItfluOhJa01V-FgGUFN7jGP79Ziq8GGeITy-TXgL41GvVK9JW5aqm4WFoHQd_wlwHlh5laHAYbXxy2_aswmTc2XFb1uvsD3O2Bq3xzqpDiaZ7c_37Mybr7g/s320/Aug+12+09+029.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF2ZNEQ3REbifs3fsgsYokedbwoj5WyG02Hirk-C38fvNPLp60F9HMmLMnoIzcvYHeCGA1X3wqdzvT7xJKUiPuHJxwnqTrgv_pQ0ChXKd8nTp5hT8cCIslqU6VPn4EBLL2k6U4w/s1600-h/Aug+12+09+028.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369102999620400514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF2ZNEQ3REbifs3fsgsYokedbwoj5WyG02Hirk-C38fvNPLp60F9HMmLMnoIzcvYHeCGA1X3wqdzvT7xJKUiPuHJxwnqTrgv_pQ0ChXKd8nTp5hT8cCIslqU6VPn4EBLL2k6U4w/s320/Aug+12+09+028.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48wbDp9Z6C3bX40uOomCHeEsI3P98lFkjnVLqQNDMpDDUc0VBpm7UJ6qSsA2IatPcOfo9i_ZDYAllhqT-ILBQDSiBgB3hBq0uK83Rm51VFvkl1uQ5uy6J4GrVql7EwD7Sr0aWkg/s1600-h/Aug+12+09+025.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369102102491574386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48wbDp9Z6C3bX40uOomCHeEsI3P98lFkjnVLqQNDMpDDUc0VBpm7UJ6qSsA2IatPcOfo9i_ZDYAllhqT-ILBQDSiBgB3hBq0uK83Rm51VFvkl1uQ5uy6J4GrVql7EwD7Sr0aWkg/s320/Aug+12+09+025.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxm7cM3Ex6QREAI5kuJV31wRNNabaS_kirDYd-APywN7jRYE8zIPIAIyIQWJ8MdBrEHTK4yTnzXNa6iF_yuglRNEVPT0I5KX4jj_zhoNJ1rIVpe6DNmvB_tLr74iEv_VyzMff-YA/s1600-h/Aug+12+09+028.JPG"></a></div></div></div></div></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-4630597817078382632009-07-12T21:26:00.001-05:002009-07-12T21:30:43.223-05:00Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged...I think I know now why I sometimes see people grocery shopping with their two-year-olds at 11:00 at night. Perhaps some of them have children like mine, who engages in a 45-minute screamathon at bedtime every night. And maybe, some nights, they'd just rather have the kid fall asleep in the car on the way home. Yeah, I get that now.Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-86269376624092848872009-07-02T23:28:00.002-05:002009-07-02T23:34:13.293-05:00Hungry children, apparently<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8Bd4RJT5F12isf2ngwuZ63GKuznK4If2ZPkc1gGb_t8CMvxjXWSr6bZSQR7woHgDQbi3A7V1KUSsicokmyl3ydKG4QTi0OM9iQKOvj46EuEOdkafXkw9RBxWYoKhWaG3ZRxCAg/s1600-h/july+2+09+009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354087079245971186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8Bd4RJT5F12isf2ngwuZ63GKuznK4If2ZPkc1gGb_t8CMvxjXWSr6bZSQR7woHgDQbi3A7V1KUSsicokmyl3ydKG4QTi0OM9iQKOvj46EuEOdkafXkw9RBxWYoKhWaG3ZRxCAg/s320/july+2+09+009.JPG" border="0" /></a>This is what happens to a cantaloupe wedge in our house, if you leave it laying around after supper.Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-25159423658319607082009-06-30T11:01:00.003-05:002009-06-30T12:21:42.017-05:00Thanks, Crappy Economy!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmnDTcH2N0gSmOjOlleslG8cV6-PjlQ3zDD1ISfbYnBwl-wGPoHcejWtivy9HXULSOZUJSLuINHsQoERydnSJAsGCHMtt23jnaI-yXTL2RRtIRfoa6NOdFw7KWm_tcLoNXkaxDA/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353153515165736866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmnDTcH2N0gSmOjOlleslG8cV6-PjlQ3zDD1ISfbYnBwl-wGPoHcejWtivy9HXULSOZUJSLuINHsQoERydnSJAsGCHMtt23jnaI-yXTL2RRtIRfoa6NOdFw7KWm_tcLoNXkaxDA/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a>I just got back to my desk after my annual performance review with my supervisor. According to my evaluation (and I have it in writing), I consistently exceed expectations and I deserve a raise and a promotion--but I won't get one this year.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Thanks, crappy economy!</div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-47040890385467571242009-06-27T08:14:00.002-05:002009-06-27T08:17:27.202-05:00For my daughterTwinkle, twinkle, skinny thighs,<br />How I marvel at your size!<br />You are small, sweet, and tiny.<br />Oh, how I love your little hiney!Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-24272172204698940432009-06-26T09:41:00.002-05:002009-06-26T09:45:08.680-05:00Friday funny<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rRyWY14KU_oHe-2Zw1rrriwpGXrWOZ0uC7Jkt971UXPQdwrbPlWgImbEjDJRTDFYVEFsSue_vMI3ImBTeVTdqCcvAdAxnNDBirHjXB6514I2hPKsJ9M84KRQU6yvfmKeyFiUmw/s1600-h/blogging.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351646624730837986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rRyWY14KU_oHe-2Zw1rrriwpGXrWOZ0uC7Jkt971UXPQdwrbPlWgImbEjDJRTDFYVEFsSue_vMI3ImBTeVTdqCcvAdAxnNDBirHjXB6514I2hPKsJ9M84KRQU6yvfmKeyFiUmw/s400/blogging.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I identify lately with the "people with so little to say" designation above... but without the implied "so much time on their hands" that makes drivel-blogging so rampant. I have missed the blog, and the comments, and the conversations that precipitate from good posts--and I'll be back to it soon, I promise. For now, just know that I am thinking of you.<br /><div></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-49768153368522343202009-05-28T11:12:00.001-05:002009-05-28T11:12:25.303-05:00Lost Generation<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/42E2fAWM6rA' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/42E2fAWM6rA'/></object></p></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-80397554153439256132009-05-27T23:21:00.005-05:002009-05-27T23:28:50.026-05:00Simple pleasures, late spring edition1) One of the vendors at the farmers' market tonight had a sign up advertising "Buttcrunch Lettuce."<br /><br />2) Feeding the kids fresh local strawberries in the car on the way home from the market. They Could. Not. Wait. I tore the green tops off with my teeth and spat them out on the floor as I handed the luscious berries behind me, eyes still on the road. Each berry elicited a "thank you" from the backseat, along with a "please" requesting another.<br /><br />3) At dinner, Mae said, "Mmmmmmmm, asparagus!" (It sounded like "Spare Gus.")Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-44854081914319292522009-05-22T16:17:00.003-05:002009-05-22T16:28:33.266-05:00Giving of Myself<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTuToNVlLO9DHKfzZRbdEHOPluzQa3uKmtuv8vV5LRHvcb5eQKlHk0zx-AAYfRql7jExb5lTF_F3XSK_k4Nk7FArEgqqOplXUGH8a5xXqY1i3UTEf98OH1lxbIoDPoolOgnZ_alQ/s1600-h/present.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338761432926784578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 96px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTuToNVlLO9DHKfzZRbdEHOPluzQa3uKmtuv8vV5LRHvcb5eQKlHk0zx-AAYfRql7jExb5lTF_F3XSK_k4Nk7FArEgqqOplXUGH8a5xXqY1i3UTEf98OH1lxbIoDPoolOgnZ_alQ/s320/present.jpg" border="0" /></a>For many years, bone marrow donation has been on my personal "To Do" list. Now that I'm done having babies and breastfeeding (barring any unforeseen seismic shifts in Ted's and my thinking on the topic), I feel like I'm entering a stage in my life (and in the lives of my other family members) when I could actually follow through with that dream. <div> </div><div>Last night, though, a conversation with a friend got me thinking about becoming an egg donor. I've been so blessed with easy conception, textbook-normal pregnancies, and two healthy (not to mention incredibly attractive, if you ask me) babies. It breaks my heart to know that so many couples lack what has come so easily to me, and I'm pretty sure I have hundreds of thousands of healthy oocytes in my ovaries, just going to waste--positively <em>languishing</em> behind the iron curtain that is my IUD.</div><div> </div><div>I wonder if I could do both, say, in the next five years? Am I crazy?</div><div> </div><div>Ten minutes of research revealed that you have to be 34 or younger to donate eggs, and I turn 33 next Sunday. I guess a little soul-searching is in order for the holiday weekend...</div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-67643792176713288212009-05-18T16:59:00.001-05:002009-05-18T16:59:49.186-05:00HBTD, Part II<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="260" height="195" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c90a3ce693&photo_id=3543236423&flickr_show_info_box=true"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c90a3ce693&photo_id=3543236423&flickr_show_info_box=true" height="195" width="260"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iowah/3543236423/">MVI_5697</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/iowah/">knights_writes</a></span></div>I was told that the video I uploaded via Picasa (below) didn't want to come out and play... so here. Let's see if the flickr version will load.<br clear="all" />Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-75678917022966471882009-05-18T14:34:00.000-05:002009-05-18T14:34:34.987-05:00Happy Birthday to Ted<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsYGQGeIHG-51gRzK3L-qO-EFo6AMLm6XuPwCaGwEJmI-t93OtZScoyMoQgzMNNKiYlflAFH5FGjBgxs4ArvhtrWUXctsoVpzOFE1V-jQnHsYSpbqQOkJR9eNOskSstijVRd2Fw/s1600-h/MVI_5697.jpg"><img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsYGQGeIHG-51gRzK3L-qO-EFo6AMLm6XuPwCaGwEJmI-t93OtZScoyMoQgzMNNKiYlflAFH5FGjBgxs4ArvhtrWUXctsoVpzOFE1V-jQnHsYSpbqQOkJR9eNOskSstijVRd2Fw/s400/MVI_5697.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here's a video of Arlo helping his papa make Rhubarb Delight (rhubarb harvested from our garden) on Friday night, in honor of Ted's birthday. <br /><br />The best present Ted got on Friday was a new job!<br /><br />He put in his two weeks' notice at Quality Care and will begin working at <a href="http://www.forevergreengrows.com/">Forever Green </a>nursery & garden center on June 1st. His new position (as nursery manager, in a retail and customer-service environment) will put Ted in a work habitat that's more to his liking, and put his considerable plant knowledge and educational leanings to more appropriate use than what he has been able to do at Quality Care.<br /><br />Ted will continue to teach horticulture at Kirkwood, part-time, and is really excited about a new chance to really show his stuff--and to hopefully do some meaningful work in a place where he is appreciated! Here's to new beginnings...<div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-11891946872019291662009-05-11T12:51:00.004-05:002009-05-11T12:59:09.369-05:00For Better Or For Worse: Mother's Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOU9ulp4XktKSvvxr9HGDb59zcIcwe1hY1cJcP49IErmKnim0gpoeuccCExzuA2uA3HkkvEL5Y4gkZLVXzoRIFtaN5Cwo4ZmZtRFb8ko1Y2bhluBZsWSZqfbOxQNb-WR2IESpWTQ/s1600-h/090510efg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334625732599226130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOU9ulp4XktKSvvxr9HGDb59zcIcwe1hY1cJcP49IErmKnim0gpoeuccCExzuA2uA3HkkvEL5Y4gkZLVXzoRIFtaN5Cwo4ZmZtRFb8ko1Y2bhluBZsWSZqfbOxQNb-WR2IESpWTQ/s400/090510efg.jpg" border="0" /></a>Slap a beard on the dad here, and you might as well be watching the scene unfold in my house yesterday morning. Right down to the aqua-blue bathrobe, and the fact that my baby girl just this weekend mastered use of the word "YEAH!" (see first panel). Hope everyone had a wonderful Mother's Day--I know I did!Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-81799458584254507742009-05-11T10:38:00.002-05:002009-05-11T10:48:02.489-05:00My blog has been awfully bike-y lately for someone who rarely bikes.<div>I'm celebrating "Bike to Work Week" as a spectator--but at least I am riding my scooter instead of driving the car. Limiting factors include my asthma's peak season (tree pollen allergy) and the fact that my bike is a heavy old one-speed beast that requires too much exertion for my wheezy self. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5FVpn0yDRI0Z1XQFRlggOFgmPm_YY9IhHKMnK5yKW111RtpF9L0YbTI3ZRS_AVg3orQb8cj3k2h4_x2muaUVegS7cBjlAqwb6So72wtG7fIuAmWnN6Q7yHVdP-siufCjACL5CA/s1600-h/huffy_good_vibes_blue.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334592400797195154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5FVpn0yDRI0Z1XQFRlggOFgmPm_YY9IhHKMnK5yKW111RtpF9L0YbTI3ZRS_AVg3orQb8cj3k2h4_x2muaUVegS7cBjlAqwb6So72wtG7fIuAmWnN6Q7yHVdP-siufCjACL5CA/s320/huffy_good_vibes_blue.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>This is not a photo of my actual bike--but this is the exact make, model, and color that I own. The bike was given to me by a college roommate's grandma, who had kept it in storage for several years. I love the bike, but I am rarely able to ride the bike, on account of my fragile condition.</div><div> </div><div>I am Biking to Work in spirit, though. Promise. Now, where did I put my inhaler?</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5FVpn0yDRI0Z1XQFRlggOFgmPm_YY9IhHKMnK5yKW111RtpF9L0YbTI3ZRS_AVg3orQb8cj3k2h4_x2muaUVegS7cBjlAqwb6So72wtG7fIuAmWnN6Q7yHVdP-siufCjACL5CA/s1600-h/huffy_good_vibes_blue.jpg"></a> </div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32966398.post-73818921673313469672009-05-06T15:04:00.005-05:002009-05-06T15:20:27.940-05:00Score! Chinese Laundry flats, from Revival<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm6cK2YCbWj6fti9Ewdc__xh5-jyKOd8p-yC-oCjz4l1d41nvQOQJWUYMoKNTaiENM4j7W4BNPT5jRKtrJSf1ogpUKGic2PseXFc-QjJTVUGjsN-pqXHOlgLicMSjnNVwINmJxQ/s1600-h/IMG_5639.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332805427355988882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm6cK2YCbWj6fti9Ewdc__xh5-jyKOd8p-yC-oCjz4l1d41nvQOQJWUYMoKNTaiENM4j7W4BNPT5jRKtrJSf1ogpUKGic2PseXFc-QjJTVUGjsN-pqXHOlgLicMSjnNVwINmJxQ/s320/IMG_5639.JPG" border="0" /></a>Check these out! Today I scored these brand-new flats at Revival, the hippest consignment store in town. The shoes, made by <a href="http://http//www.chineselaundry.com/indShoe.asp?type=f&store=b&id=3812&sess=0506091010398401767">CL by Chinese Laundry</a>, have never been worn, and are a perfect fit. A quick search online reveals that the style is called "Unique," the color is olive (an iridescent green-and-black), and I paid about a third of the retail price for them. SCORE.<br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceECcnNbVwyX_tQo3x9P8MsWHlenKVdl9sAQ1IL9Gazzby3IvqRbcC_fmoiH14gPANTHMtQcDWbMeaiL4HBj54gEUyYSfBqmNE0hr1cnfU7Jy-guWqIucedeDwQf72Ywg_mXPpw/s1600-h/IMG_5638.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332805240046145682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceECcnNbVwyX_tQo3x9P8MsWHlenKVdl9sAQ1IL9Gazzby3IvqRbcC_fmoiH14gPANTHMtQcDWbMeaiL4HBj54gEUyYSfBqmNE0hr1cnfU7Jy-guWqIucedeDwQf72Ywg_mXPpw/s320/IMG_5638.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHENGwo9xSG_sV6wZHmQV_-GH6xgZImCeA75WmCPq108QeymWu6BcvrEZeX9hoEJPv0JTYqydpVLSWqxiP5Zp6OI55L8hbgtqXUcqDlaKEAwpAXoYszXWHbuJklUU6kj-mBBH6Lg/s1600-h/IMG_5639.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Scooteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02251794738838222027noreply@blogger.com3