tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19131993946997174102024-02-19T05:59:05.828-05:00The Uttmost from Utton BayCheck here for the latest news on one of the hottest designs to hit the rag trade in a decade.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-27321290381826291232017-09-04T15:31:00.002-04:002017-09-04T15:34:39.325-04:00<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Dr5ovAKs5ek" width="560"></iframe><br />
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A great big brownie smile! I took an online course about design and this is my project: encouraging 3rd and 4th graders to send their classmates in flood ravaged Texas a cheerful brownie treat and a note of support. Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-62687995080546173652016-02-05T12:07:00.003-05:002016-02-05T12:10:09.981-05:00Tanzania goes wild for Utton Bay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VmtAAsB2XfEje9U5fdRAh8SPdbj0NgU-UEQflaviqWD7BqI_fVGzfgClHrpkd9fftljbisUS8n_-iM6TgxAPu2zbsnI4CtGF0IBF7diOHEg-MJQvH17evQqU6p1sIx7_b-_tUvZ0MSk/s1600/GirlsofTanzania.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VmtAAsB2XfEje9U5fdRAh8SPdbj0NgU-UEQflaviqWD7BqI_fVGzfgClHrpkd9fftljbisUS8n_-iM6TgxAPu2zbsnI4CtGF0IBF7diOHEg-MJQvH17evQqU6p1sIx7_b-_tUvZ0MSk/s320/GirlsofTanzania.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Twice a year, Cynthia from my dance class fills two suitcases to the 50-pound-brim for her trip to Tanzania. She offered to bring a summery surfeit of Uttons, declaring her girls are always cold, no matter how sweltering the heat. Here is a splendid portrait of the The Girls Foundation of Tanzania that does my heart good.</div>
Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-65078730198423449392013-10-01T12:26:00.000-04:002013-10-01T13:41:56.295-04:00<h4>
It seems so long now...</h4>
since we've reported our home-grown adventures and findings, but it's the back•to•school season and <i>perche non</i> resume? On this incomparable first of October, we'll be working in plenty of favorite tunes, beginning with this seasonal<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5g5rSvmTPU">sentimental fave</a>. Alas, it's not the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4mEuuVIcAA&list=TL443UxypfUw_7cR3dI-niOmdDCoy5QL9e">original</a> recording, but I do believe this is the original artist, and in a blessedly modest setting: her apartment, perchance?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2QthaPf1gpoF2ihAtXmLNuAuRusNCUbJAVfCzfv-ssHjWWlyY7T-nGoac8pJXQtHk_d9mrhqECjRcwijhdUrpOMYWQRB_Iqiq1oyuP6Kd6LQYlCQUdWawYL1CONZMi2uT-2X31NWsHo/s1600/greenleaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2QthaPf1gpoF2ihAtXmLNuAuRusNCUbJAVfCzfv-ssHjWWlyY7T-nGoac8pJXQtHk_d9mrhqECjRcwijhdUrpOMYWQRB_Iqiq1oyuP6Kd6LQYlCQUdWawYL1CONZMi2uT-2X31NWsHo/s1600/greenleaves.jpg" /></a></div>
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I love the fall, time of new beginnings. How about you?</div>
Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-89826776084321316742012-01-01T16:22:00.005-05:002012-01-01T16:40:48.827-05:00Back! (for a moment)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5HdKhUs0ZBbXaDPLStQagvRBqFMYd6oOm2k6HNeO_arfZliju7tiUxHE4IplY8BfQFQ2g9ymoW7MO1-kNCfyL2Z6hQy4hWbWveiZAialoExg-s-cYpEGEeVP-lgobPxJiMFf57WiMY0/s1600/dentaltanning.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5HdKhUs0ZBbXaDPLStQagvRBqFMYd6oOm2k6HNeO_arfZliju7tiUxHE4IplY8BfQFQ2g9ymoW7MO1-kNCfyL2Z6hQy4hWbWveiZAialoExg-s-cYpEGEeVP-lgobPxJiMFf57WiMY0/s200/dentaltanning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692777128713870018" border="0" /></a>Steadfast readers may recall our "dental signage" series of blog posts past and the jollity derived from unfortunate juxtapositions of dental office exterior signs with neighboring establishments. A recent trip to lovely Medford, MA, provided this example, too good to pass up.<br />No need to reach for your reading glasses. Simply click the pic to see the business next door in full sun.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-69883892271195731592010-08-09T08:42:00.007-04:002010-08-10T09:32:46.934-04:00Que Seraph Seraph<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWN-K6I7I8skw5H5ISJ_OEoQPmPQVc4FIRu8KgX_CdWKg7IJSCfzbVLygMfIRPwK6YRD-J8zoLH6FJjuARy1_eWnzQNYo6oDXy1wWHl4BG2cipaCjpgdalE1k5dA1DphBwuqWDvdQeQg/s1600/rolls.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWN-K6I7I8skw5H5ISJ_OEoQPmPQVc4FIRu8KgX_CdWKg7IJSCfzbVLygMfIRPwK6YRD-J8zoLH6FJjuARy1_eWnzQNYo6oDXy1wWHl4BG2cipaCjpgdalE1k5dA1DphBwuqWDvdQeQg/s320/rolls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503389745635305682" border="0" /></a>Last week a 2002 Rolls Royce Silver Seraph bearing a FOR SALE sign suddenly appeared on the lawn of one of the execu-estates here in Lexy. Who this drive-by display was meant to appeal to is unknown. I mean, who owns a Rolls Royce besides oil sheiks and Thurston Howell III? Hmm, does it come with a driver?<br /><br />Due to complaints from peevish readers, we have added an additional photo to this blog <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjo9U73ks2fSG8N7oRZfsNB8gkO_ifV35HEy4Z3w5E1_3jqYDPXCnxGKTuJCRiXAaYIgb8STfI88N4cGGSO9Ici2QXBxqVgKYfCrbizH55sD7SKfiqye1vy8f_AZRaWnB5l_ZZxAZfdY/s1600/rack.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjo9U73ks2fSG8N7oRZfsNB8gkO_ifV35HEy4Z3w5E1_3jqYDPXCnxGKTuJCRiXAaYIgb8STfI88N4cGGSO9Ici2QXBxqVgKYfCrbizH55sD7SKfiqye1vy8f_AZRaWnB5l_ZZxAZfdY/s200/rack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503771706031022594" border="0" /></a>entry. It features, among other things, the bike rack outside the West Side YMCA on 63rd Street that was responsible for the tripping, falling, wrist-breaking incident earlier this year. Note that this is also the same bad-luck YMCA where <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_David_Chapman">Mark David Chapman</a> stayed in 1980.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-33238256010964532552010-08-01T18:00:00.009-04:002010-08-01T19:03:17.589-04:00Camm-o-Glam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Za-otzUsglcvBen3ReOBLqedGWqaKBEBbgXkMQBeGsFRYradKPgp2IdPRkv8X2mo4BuvIqU6IMpEjBoZRaOgYl3zVLDgg7kMQfZRi1nQ79mGfLjwUJ1MAzj8O74W5HkPDKDobzYaMzw/s1600/cammo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Za-otzUsglcvBen3ReOBLqedGWqaKBEBbgXkMQBeGsFRYradKPgp2IdPRkv8X2mo4BuvIqU6IMpEjBoZRaOgYl3zVLDgg7kMQfZRi1nQ79mGfLjwUJ1MAzj8O74W5HkPDKDobzYaMzw/s320/cammo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500564856541082258" border="0" /></a>After the 100th email complaining that <span style="font-style: italic;">"Patti's not in the pix!"</span> I arranged a rush photo session featuring my newest fashion item: camouflage pattern cargo pants. Made to render combat troops invisible among the weeds, jungle cammo is still very popular in certain hippie-fied sections of Cambridge, and I am told it's mandatory at gun clubs in the suburbs. Not that the we're trying to hide from anything. Just the opposite. We like the rough n' ready air it gives us. Especially when fighting for parking spaces [me first at the health club + (W)hol(e)y Foods]. As those who know me know: I'm rough 'n' tough; don't take no stuff.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-21803314244338647682010-07-31T17:45:00.011-04:002010-08-14T19:48:07.056-04:00Travels With Raleigh<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjrowdXBaGaj1W6-uWxC7XQ9QpRRuPzwoSIoSLOceYkoD9hanPahnSKdOONerKuuGaxuHfunKuvhU5HKP2Po0lxTM8m3XkeMKR1f9vhwqml2RA5JX3uip3LLqr8aBb5XQbenT8o43eEo/s1600/raleigh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjrowdXBaGaj1W6-uWxC7XQ9QpRRuPzwoSIoSLOceYkoD9hanPahnSKdOONerKuuGaxuHfunKuvhU5HKP2Po0lxTM8m3XkeMKR1f9vhwqml2RA5JX3uip3LLqr8aBb5XQbenT8o43eEo/s400/raleigh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502472052609556082" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjueUC-TTkGYT2aEj1Kk3JW-wPZokMmA4BsYn-NShqm7-O6eO98euU_xCaATSIRAfNF9sgObi9Ezh2ZCfTkQIL16BS-j65bIIjy_YNCWq1BQr42l2-LDWtUNZA4Fu2OUH2-fwcLEOlesqo/s1600/saddlebag.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjueUC-TTkGYT2aEj1Kk3JW-wPZokMmA4BsYn-NShqm7-O6eO98euU_xCaATSIRAfNF9sgObi9Ezh2ZCfTkQIL16BS-j65bIIjy_YNCWq1BQr42l2-LDWtUNZA4Fu2OUH2-fwcLEOlesqo/s200/saddlebag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505416456968330930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjRuNvinMWIc-UL7n26XLdCQYYl0XYflDASoCl60JDxhCIbfP37r46MLK9ykJ5Fv9LNPHnN45KLJPM8eWlgWG6UNllFOPLkiaqQLL5Ha35YZe-jsYoN47RgomhXICYlHkMfMpzaWn7XI/s1600/green.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjRuNvinMWIc-UL7n26XLdCQYYl0XYflDASoCl60JDxhCIbfP37r46MLK9ykJ5Fv9LNPHnN45KLJPM8eWlgWG6UNllFOPLkiaqQLL5Ha35YZe-jsYoN47RgomhXICYlHkMfMpzaWn7XI/s200/green.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500190635620213778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDgwZ4yPV_wuyKhCwhMEmfj_H23YVm1TSi0eXD-gK7x-asQSCZNJQoH_SgzJf2pqblniLaCUl_CMwRJNHZ_iuynBakw0d4K-ZOf3nvJrS_T3xml9QzrES4QktQkSG1H-UizMj6fEX61I/s1600/village.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDgwZ4yPV_wuyKhCwhMEmfj_H23YVm1TSi0eXD-gK7x-asQSCZNJQoH_SgzJf2pqblniLaCUl_CMwRJNHZ_iuynBakw0d4K-ZOf3nvJrS_T3xml9QzrES4QktQkSG1H-UizMj6fEX61I/s200/village.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500190853550079778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_AQF8DgHvu9yqt7eHI6lo0In4T8TSvjCkggPScHyE346LnEbqRsa1WP2ybJ3A3x_ZHvrB5Ikjto8REYD_ajnxSKYv3Ad_KDGe2q8XQFae_4U6NJMUBlcumS5jtRvwLE1DZedUjZ2uFg/s1600/path.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_AQF8DgHvu9yqt7eHI6lo0In4T8TSvjCkggPScHyE346LnEbqRsa1WP2ybJ3A3x_ZHvrB5Ikjto8REYD_ajnxSKYv3Ad_KDGe2q8XQFae_4U6NJMUBlcumS5jtRvwLE1DZedUjZ2uFg/s200/path.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500190068900596914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQliAbQoUgTmHlMsbBB9JolOuN-k-RSUfDZnb4WG9OdrXZycxM7iS63aC0dfuWfNxcnTrGm2OxEviMnpYxX7IxkLbY1OhbsnEc46FtOB0SLYw20ax0-iFISWm15lgmEvQLh4RbdkF_2rQ/s1600/brook.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQliAbQoUgTmHlMsbBB9JolOuN-k-RSUfDZnb4WG9OdrXZycxM7iS63aC0dfuWfNxcnTrGm2OxEviMnpYxX7IxkLbY1OhbsnEc46FtOB0SLYw20ax0-iFISWm15lgmEvQLh4RbdkF_2rQ/s200/brook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500191346719193074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4xPoIRKvdfjMlfztadXfXRPhEONX8sbfeQyAaN0Ivomoqhvd8CePoKD7vyhbW7hAhf2E079cB2HmF7E7Orf7A9X1ZqXVqTLl0W6SEt7zihxD6qcvQBqaX9qUeMmjgt4eWVRzAEF11jI/s1600/bridge.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4xPoIRKvdfjMlfztadXfXRPhEONX8sbfeQyAaN0Ivomoqhvd8CePoKD7vyhbW7hAhf2E079cB2HmF7E7Orf7A9X1ZqXVqTLl0W6SEt7zihxD6qcvQBqaX9qUeMmjgt4eWVRzAEF11jI/s200/bridge.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500191080419780738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4yE81j2fxgqcBFFh2ysFEEzDQC8I4wMedyG3ttnwvmxft2IgP4zB_hKgSGcLGbehZWOlOxKmmcSrPNTvipGMrSlCCwNextIrDpQB4nwXX1yPT9VxJNgRwZpXwqPqCa6EquucgieVmZ0/s1600/4621063668_d83d8083a1_z.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4yE81j2fxgqcBFFh2ysFEEzDQC8I4wMedyG3ttnwvmxft2IgP4zB_hKgSGcLGbehZWOlOxKmmcSrPNTvipGMrSlCCwNextIrDpQB4nwXX1yPT9VxJNgRwZpXwqPqCa6EquucgieVmZ0/s320/4621063668_d83d8083a1_z.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500952279656865698" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Submitted by guest blogger <span style="font-weight: bold;">JoeY</span></span><br /></div>Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-89353906765936120032010-07-24T15:52:00.001-04:002010-07-24T15:53:52.944-04:00Late July<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyD6N9VsAOJEPd-Yvgy-Fa0nyOOLY7VpwTP4xHYRgtx-ISmkZOglVQ539Qh5rbwiR3m79srCoh9PMu4McFf8uCaX7Fc1pKbzHt3aBGSYe5qjQ1cyWB7QgR3lekClMJe2ysbWqfjoZbAD4/s1600/pond.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyD6N9VsAOJEPd-Yvgy-Fa0nyOOLY7VpwTP4xHYRgtx-ISmkZOglVQ539Qh5rbwiR3m79srCoh9PMu4McFf8uCaX7Fc1pKbzHt3aBGSYe5qjQ1cyWB7QgR3lekClMJe2ysbWqfjoZbAD4/s200/pond.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497563155180388082" border="0" /></a>Pond.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxrlrnp0hyphenhyphenQ6SDH5Mh1w32ZcVGXQ0r_fThPOlzK1bDAnT1p8ISIM9sMOva5iJnKd-4tZsNlKhL14TZiUbnYg5LKt6aE90jR0MPpgi2UREnYBTCbLbMdy2va1a1n-sAxs8pYClvFU8BGk/s1600/swim.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxrlrnp0hyphenhyphenQ6SDH5Mh1w32ZcVGXQ0r_fThPOlzK1bDAnT1p8ISIM9sMOva5iJnKd-4tZsNlKhL14TZiUbnYg5LKt6aE90jR0MPpgi2UREnYBTCbLbMdy2va1a1n-sAxs8pYClvFU8BGk/s200/swim.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497563278013476306" border="0" /></a><br />Swim.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-50062436742737140222010-07-05T10:19:00.010-04:002010-07-05T10:33:51.643-04:00Hot or Not<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHJPbwHD_VWaRdEFSGsa4LGAsNj5cvfYNjCi0N8X9Hno3OHRPmwpoPUnsWjDXE3drUAdOBdvR__zOvMluk8kw0UCuElf1N7jkE3PEysnRy7HyIstXCX1_umqSfMVxRQBfoi-RDk4ZTQ0/s1600/hoopinasworld.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHJPbwHD_VWaRdEFSGsa4LGAsNj5cvfYNjCi0N8X9Hno3OHRPmwpoPUnsWjDXE3drUAdOBdvR__zOvMluk8kw0UCuElf1N7jkE3PEysnRy7HyIstXCX1_umqSfMVxRQBfoi-RDk4ZTQ0/s200/hoopinasworld.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490426803872822898" border="0" /></a>Attended a 4th of July evening celebration held on a hill in Arlington that promised a commanding view of Boston's famed fireworks display. The big booms were scheduled to go off at 10:30PM, but after 2 1/2 hours spent crowded on all sides by The Public, I decided to bail out in favor of the relative serenity of seeing said pyrotechnic display on TV.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl-jqDydxBPIEcMgOtMwZ7qCaTzWZB-QV5mBXte1or5vYxr4634r3eufRJ71jpboRamreXBGvTImfycH5RuIiT3ScnurF__TWeGiW2k18Ru31EuQ2Sq3HjDLhaonKqjuLMaAvGptohxU/s1600/tire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl-jqDydxBPIEcMgOtMwZ7qCaTzWZB-QV5mBXte1or5vYxr4634r3eufRJ71jpboRamreXBGvTImfycH5RuIiT3ScnurF__TWeGiW2k18Ru31EuQ2Sq3HjDLhaonKqjuLMaAvGptohxU/s200/tire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490426902653366082" border="0" /></a>When it's 95 in the shade, there's nothing better than a refreshing visit to a Secret Swimming Hole in an undisclosed location. I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">tired</span> of this heat!Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-53494536838882428182010-07-03T16:08:00.010-04:002010-07-03T17:58:22.349-04:00Summer days in Cambridge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qYGyZr9xuCRXyzXLzPAF_IdDQqBESKeAT4wmsSXcML_wyIm5HCJo0L25IUKhnfvOVibVrHlvXGtCoY1S7P63ddj3sE81cjo4Wui_ixtnAfTbc_JOi8EjlwEk-nRhsQ41MqlZD0u7RR4/s1600/bbq.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qYGyZr9xuCRXyzXLzPAF_IdDQqBESKeAT4wmsSXcML_wyIm5HCJo0L25IUKhnfvOVibVrHlvXGtCoY1S7P63ddj3sE81cjo4Wui_ixtnAfTbc_JOi8EjlwEk-nRhsQ41MqlZD0u7RR4/s200/bbq.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489774383199914146" border="0" /></a>It was <a href="http://www.formaggiokitchen.com/SaturdayBBQ">Formaggio Kitchen's BBQ Weekend</a>, a must-attend for vegetarians like me who make exceptions for pulled pork, pulled beef brisket, pulled lamb, pulled spicy chicken, Niman Ranch dogs on brioche bun, grilled and smoked using a variety of woods and smothered in savory onions. Glaringly absent was the usual block-long queue of salivating BBQ enthusiasts lining the Huron Avenue sidewalk. Was it the July 4th holiday that kept them away, or perhaps the rumor that I'd be there to buy out the store?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLjrv8j1zWBjQAeaJdtVmR-7YbzHoj3Zm46yDLqIttfmuLDiniq4XBlSlNcbu-sEq3XB-II236dvIhnEDMWYegkX1GDO4eZkhcbLV34WkckwgPP4_mw2EKPrI9-zt740Md2rVyv16azM/s1600/hiddengardens.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLjrv8j1zWBjQAeaJdtVmR-7YbzHoj3Zm46yDLqIttfmuLDiniq4XBlSlNcbu-sEq3XB-II236dvIhnEDMWYegkX1GDO4eZkhcbLV34WkckwgPP4_mw2EKPrI9-zt740Md2rVyv16azM/s200/hiddengardens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489774551911063634" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.cambridgema.gov/CPL/friends/gardens.htm">The Secret Gardens of Cambridge</a> is now an every-other-yearly event I first attended some years ago, and try my best not to miss. For one jam-packed Sunday a year, I get to wander around people's backyards and hobnob with amateur gardeners who take serious delight in creating tiny urban parks where you'd least expect to find them. A true inspiration for this Chauncy gardener.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-6890236100889896982010-06-12T18:27:00.015-04:002010-06-13T11:23:43.956-04:00The Boys of Banner Hill<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc5lSDHDwWuJhxymswhRUBrddflZyGH2Zy77GfBHW6tzHvD7K7xh6oUMwmaXdPDjAEnmNcYuBVisqa-4R6ZzNUjLUSN0cvyxCAblBdyWH0oWJyNkRpzalmPF4Hk2_-Wg9LcD85fA5C3o/s1600/SDC10613.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc5lSDHDwWuJhxymswhRUBrddflZyGH2Zy77GfBHW6tzHvD7K7xh6oUMwmaXdPDjAEnmNcYuBVisqa-4R6ZzNUjLUSN0cvyxCAblBdyWH0oWJyNkRpzalmPF4Hk2_-Wg9LcD85fA5C3o/s200/SDC10613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482017490135853618" border="0" /></a>To your left: photographic proof of old friend Sandro's ability to tolerate my show-off theatrics while visiting the Gloucester estate of Dr. Jay on a moody Saturday afternoon. Fortified by a free-range Mediterranean saladio and accompanied by Global Design Director JoeY, we scaled the local Matterhorn and noted the highest point in town from the former estate of Canadian-born glue czar W.N. LePage (yes, the Mucilage King himself).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQIPCRilNjqeGok7d6cYIg3qYJL1_Foss89g5gMrHwg-RVhNqUrLSpIU2SL1VqM4hwm801oPYDfqRvnrvBTZsDZJJVMB1Yy063FKRoKb7ZnbHCv4hEhrcawJtWflsuO8pyPDjQIf82pM/s1600/swivel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQIPCRilNjqeGok7d6cYIg3qYJL1_Foss89g5gMrHwg-RVhNqUrLSpIU2SL1VqM4hwm801oPYDfqRvnrvBTZsDZJJVMB1Yy063FKRoKb7ZnbHCv4hEhrcawJtWflsuO8pyPDjQIf82pM/s200/swivel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482017691089694194" border="0" /></a>To your right: Banner Hill below decks. The good Doctor led us to the basement to reveal an honest-to-gosh naval swivel gun, found buried on the property and dating back to the Napoleonic Wars (we hope). Sailing vessels of yore employed these to guard against invasion (and not the Bose kind, either). <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-bKaEVtGn-dfrXOClXMsbF9mr8aWoeX5iexLDi8Arzok72jX5SUjPO9J9gZnTydUY8GeC1mUqF4tK1kYV1HdwqWyGt2TtlsNu42mQ7rsNShM2kNjKELWMT9DnsSAB8Rr5QvU2in0N_h8/s1600/pwm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 107px; height: 48px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-bKaEVtGn-dfrXOClXMsbF9mr8aWoeX5iexLDi8Arzok72jX5SUjPO9J9gZnTydUY8GeC1mUqF4tK1kYV1HdwqWyGt2TtlsNu42mQ7rsNShM2kNjKELWMT9DnsSAB8Rr5QvU2in0N_h8/s200/pwm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482265239929339250" border="0" /></a>Maybe the LePage clan kept it around for similar purposes. Or maybe as an ancient form of Pulse Width Modulation. Who knows?<br /><br />Just below: Sandro points out various geographic highlights of Gloucester Harbor while I dream of <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6F7xC8XuoBQ3Sb2BGB72NXFy_nQ4ZRkZBExz-iKkNDdRw1poaktrcinGKdkUDo-1CBwiSCFsCytkHncD81CABeVBL4WrYCPLEvJID5kxmJG7b9Qaj8lZyClDG8-qSN6unSx55j3wwsI/s1600/point.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6F7xC8XuoBQ3Sb2BGB72NXFy_nQ4ZRkZBExz-iKkNDdRw1poaktrcinGKdkUDo-1CBwiSCFsCytkHncD81CABeVBL4WrYCPLEvJID5kxmJG7b9Qaj8lZyClDG8-qSN6unSx55j3wwsI/s200/point.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482017876707192850" border="0" /></a>Nicoises I Have Known. It only took one flawlessly mixed wine spritzer for me to see that these fellas really know how to entertain a gal (and I mean that in the nicest way). A tour of the art-filled East and West wings capped a perfect afternoon by the sea.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-12151069918384670242010-06-07T13:12:00.003-04:002010-06-07T18:35:54.610-04:00Rue the DayThis blog's first embedded video: a clip from the "lost footage" of my association with Paris motorcycle gangs in 2009.<br /><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hjKmbwXknfA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hjKmbwXknfA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object>Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-68055337218559917452010-05-31T19:24:00.006-04:002010-06-01T13:30:36.320-04:00For Our NY Readers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTSt7xGrpo0y6l_Gg6bLXkWVBLyZ79aRLJ5jd0nzN4otQKuyocjG7q3xh-bks0wa4ymxSXXvyefdA6mysAK-g4xHXXIA7ESThHsPyyr5oNu6yE8RdzRh-VbaIA4BtKVKlyMzcz1bNHdc/s1600/computer.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTSt7xGrpo0y6l_Gg6bLXkWVBLyZ79aRLJ5jd0nzN4otQKuyocjG7q3xh-bks0wa4ymxSXXvyefdA6mysAK-g4xHXXIA7ESThHsPyyr5oNu6yE8RdzRh-VbaIA4BtKVKlyMzcz1bNHdc/s200/computer.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477579288640342098" border="0" /></a>I offer this lovely Mother and Daughter tableau rendered in hues worthy of a Flemish painter, which I have entitled simply, "Explaining the Wonders of Google."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKDn6w3B0yqkoz0yXjS7pDLVuV-0eHNMMqbxf9EsZTdVIGUMP6UISYQZ1hQdFdznC3uphMGnCSBFI8Z-ongzGijxqtSE9uddb6KhxqpR5wk80Ba4npJTDBCKLGc2Xe6WnW08eWxeZek4/s1600/meyers.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKDn6w3B0yqkoz0yXjS7pDLVuV-0eHNMMqbxf9EsZTdVIGUMP6UISYQZ1hQdFdznC3uphMGnCSBFI8Z-ongzGijxqtSE9uddb6KhxqpR5wk80Ba4npJTDBCKLGc2Xe6WnW08eWxeZek4/s200/meyers.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477579398121572930" border="0" /></a>Speaking of wonders, I also extol the virtues of Meyers Liquid Dish Soap. Biodegradable and made from lemon verbena, it's tops. I much prefer it to Big Chemical Company products. One of the few places you can get Meyers' stuff is at New York's Fairway market chain. Meyers has so many products that are packaged alike, you can easily come home with a bottle of Super Stain Remover when you only wanted dish soap. Fairway's upstairs dining room also happens to be a stellar spot for a feast of crabcakes and soft shell crab on a Saturday night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf87ZAYAc39IzsVJr-mw9c2X-A72hwqJJK7hMZYvjkbMtcudFmKr94K3kgoFbVo9tgJNszV1yBq7z6qfP3b1cED3eSKZGZkrEoRyDZSksNMNAr1Upse6ts1Ymo4_G5WJWCi2-2bxA02j4/s1600/bus.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf87ZAYAc39IzsVJr-mw9c2X-A72hwqJJK7hMZYvjkbMtcudFmKr94K3kgoFbVo9tgJNszV1yBq7z6qfP3b1cED3eSKZGZkrEoRyDZSksNMNAr1Upse6ts1Ymo4_G5WJWCi2-2bxA02j4/s200/bus.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477579749426988482" border="0" /></a>Of course, the city's transit system is our magic carpet, spiriting us to destinations like Gray's Papaya, the Fairway and beyond. A veteran rider, it's Mummy's turn to show me the ropes of how to get a seat even when the bus is crowded.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-66433185241450374662010-05-23T18:56:00.012-04:002010-05-24T17:13:48.435-04:00I Get Around<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbQJ-LTV8xZZj9_LWv5DCTb19gEA2mrPK6q0z77M-F_GB13Ag3MzzcDi2npsfgNL_JP8UtU1GAQu8TZWfCbnXJCirmEXr-Doe7YSsAbuPSaK_hr-qJrooaB4V1d_HShUJkX8Tyhh4jCM/s1600/suburbs.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbQJ-LTV8xZZj9_LWv5DCTb19gEA2mrPK6q0z77M-F_GB13Ag3MzzcDi2npsfgNL_JP8UtU1GAQu8TZWfCbnXJCirmEXr-Doe7YSsAbuPSaK_hr-qJrooaB4V1d_HShUJkX8Tyhh4jCM/s200/suburbs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474603426753024658" border="0" /></a>Every day gets closer to summer, but I think I prefer the moods of late spring. Morning or afternoon, the sun is warm, the streets are walkable, and any number of shady lanes beckon.<br /><br />You never know what you'll run into on suburban streets<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEajZAdY3HvRHYewLFxKjfDqnUFnLZ-XY4h4as2R5K5jbn9iTxNb9bh9gC0dVHKXuaUTCY_XNoGmT5X7YTbMXv5PXPs8fvxRZJlp6JuV0HoHY3kncx7Kpk0CSwgz5H0QnhDLPhysOCx4/s1600/heavy_equipment.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEajZAdY3HvRHYewLFxKjfDqnUFnLZ-XY4h4as2R5K5jbn9iTxNb9bh9gC0dVHKXuaUTCY_XNoGmT5X7YTbMXv5PXPs8fvxRZJlp6JuV0HoHY3kncx7Kpk0CSwgz5H0QnhDLPhysOCx4/s200/heavy_equipment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474603551936644354" border="0" /></a>. It could be neighbors walking their dog, a lavish new executive mansion under construction, or a piece of heavy equipment parked by the roadside (with the keys in it).Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-66209959603464448782010-05-16T16:42:00.015-04:002010-05-23T08:34:10.705-04:00Three for the Asking<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodnc6FVCEFk0SL6ulWD8qx8-HmOPsu-CMswzVQLsYuigkp4WR7Y4FhRLGYNuFuD-s5jvnJxUi-jlkWlvBB52Of1yYkItp59Egc-0E4Z8l7olqUo2lG_H2Y_MsBXRjyflu7Nlm5rZJN2k/s1600/bike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 108px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodnc6FVCEFk0SL6ulWD8qx8-HmOPsu-CMswzVQLsYuigkp4WR7Y4FhRLGYNuFuD-s5jvnJxUi-jlkWlvBB52Of1yYkItp59Egc-0E4Z8l7olqUo2lG_H2Y_MsBXRjyflu7Nlm5rZJN2k/s200/bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471971230164843762" border="0" /></a>Recently, JoeY was the recipient of a 1960 vintage Raleigh Sports bike. He feels it's a dream of understated elegance, but the ride could be less stiff and more forgiving on bumpy trails. With the help of my trusty 3/8" socket, I installed a brand new Schwinn seat, but no go. JoeY also gave a thumbs-down when the boys at Cambridge's <a href="http://wheelworks.com/">Ace Wheelworks</a> recommended a $200 leather Brooks saddle. The case remains open.<br /><br />Not so with my homegirls Helen and Emmy. A big show was held this weekend at the <a href="http://www.gymnasticacademyofboston.com/">Gymnastics Academy of Boston</a> studio they frequent, and these kids tumbled like nobody's business. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3s6NtAxvj9mz-GY8dzBq18mNL2xEgYP9obtdHFpP2EDGiusoZqAKEPZtpWQsqFlAgayNmkPgPogf6XTmcJ1SvUJF7B3RIMJY_hVCMJOjLHZKNtvxMZHJORXR-LE8WTxr3ZBYqOwQNCI/s1600/Em+HelenWin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3s6NtAxvj9mz-GY8dzBq18mNL2xEgYP9obtdHFpP2EDGiusoZqAKEPZtpWQsqFlAgayNmkPgPogf6XTmcJ1SvUJF7B3RIMJY_hVCMJOjLHZKNtvxMZHJORXR-LE8WTxr3ZBYqOwQNCI/s200/Em+HelenWin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471971343538735042" border="0" /></a>Check out the giraffe- and jungle-themed leotards, medals and big grins on this Olympian pair. Naturally, I was there to take photos and cheer them on to V•i•c•t•o•r•y.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Jc3wORcLUWbKPc_QIt0bXSM43KG2wMPCGcAOD_eH7CALSa81rMN4FJr17JeJB_kC3GuDUdg1eq4jHFiESCLMVqQOJGg-mBhYWrmHBCf73Bmhxu-m2cwixA92PNRCvEUBN669zfCGqFI/s1600/japanese.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Jc3wORcLUWbKPc_QIt0bXSM43KG2wMPCGcAOD_eH7CALSa81rMN4FJr17JeJB_kC3GuDUdg1eq4jHFiESCLMVqQOJGg-mBhYWrmHBCf73Bmhxu-m2cwixA92PNRCvEUBN669zfCGqFI/s200/japanese.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471971658488546194" border="0" /></a>The last item in our weekend news roundup is my visit to a little Japanese joint called <a href="http://www.shabuyarestaurant.com/">Shabu Ya</a> in Harvard Square. I sampled the superb scallion pancake and cavalcade of sushi, but could not take my eyes off the private booths screened off by Sicilian summer festival light fixtures and a mysterious curtain made from strands of ball bearings. Next time...Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-76110000974122693172010-05-09T19:41:00.011-04:002010-05-10T11:10:18.211-04:00Gray's Papaya at Eventide<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWu7F2H5t4Ur_ZOFMKbD_67P_WeIgWbJ3TwJWe78q8Al0P6eNv88bGmhSI1o-KioAk1DvqjgePpdaK3A9x-NIe7UcPF8uhe0bepPrB6oomxBWZa3uV4g7Duuy1FkL9ZT4Ott1gjNjlic/s1600/GraysPapaya.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWu7F2H5t4Ur_ZOFMKbD_67P_WeIgWbJ3TwJWe78q8Al0P6eNv88bGmhSI1o-KioAk1DvqjgePpdaK3A9x-NIe7UcPF8uhe0bepPrB6oomxBWZa3uV4g7Duuy1FkL9ZT4Ott1gjNjlic/s200/GraysPapaya.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469419784600457154" border="0" /></a>While in New York for Mother's Day, I had a craving for the special kind of hot dog only found at Gray's Papaya; browned and crispy as you please. It was late afternoon, and strong winds were howling in the streets. "Should we risk it?" I asked Mummy. "Don't worry," she said, "the wind always subsides at eventide." Eventide was a term used in the Middle Ages to describe dusk. Now you know where I got my way with words.<br /><br />She also taught me the fine art of eating at a counter, which involves taking up space and discouraging people trying to crowd you. No matter. I'd have used my splint to cold cock anyone who tried any funny business. The winds continued to blow as we walked up Broadway, but it was worth braving the gusty currents: the hot dogs were simply delish.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-43228535335753466792010-05-08T09:48:00.003-04:002010-05-08T09:56:40.171-04:00Springly Things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljpWJtAlqrvu6uK_WWlKpeIm8Em3tkYzm2jAtU3W8eEVVGhI3bh2WPhNuDsUc33vSD40cIRPLW2wnbebJNrlCtYsFHXPnHRS7t_3Ogj1w4wY7THOBxi-mwqiENN2_kFl6Eddm9uSK8cE/s1600/whyaduck.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljpWJtAlqrvu6uK_WWlKpeIm8Em3tkYzm2jAtU3W8eEVVGhI3bh2WPhNuDsUc33vSD40cIRPLW2wnbebJNrlCtYsFHXPnHRS7t_3Ogj1w4wY7THOBxi-mwqiENN2_kFl6Eddm9uSK8cE/s200/whyaduck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468895681723413282" border="0" /></a>Yes this is a duck, paddling around <a href="http://www.lexingtonma.org/conservation/Lands/Lowervine.html">Lower Vine Brook</a> in the Lexington woods. No, it's not me, but you could say I'm just as happy as Mr. Mallard. The next photo you see of me will be <span style="font-style: italic;">sans cast</span>, and it's a fitting season to be disporting myself thusly. Spring is here with a vengeance (or a vacuum, depending on how ambitious you are) and nature's a bloomin' all over.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-58345745443425919632010-04-27T18:09:00.009-04:002010-04-27T21:21:55.515-04:00Castaway!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bfQF6j6oZm_A6buHSruJKHbDR-gSroc_tdTHtTU1BuOQQavYVwAwIDjkriFt5bKW3ybJS6azcO4CZi78cHM0drE5qTQ2DX6vHvH8L7hG1W9Pe1_xQU84ccYbX2IevoAIsJwWp6VYGfY/s1600/castreD.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bfQF6j6oZm_A6buHSruJKHbDR-gSroc_tdTHtTU1BuOQQavYVwAwIDjkriFt5bKW3ybJS6azcO4CZi78cHM0drE5qTQ2DX6vHvH8L7hG1W9Pe1_xQU84ccYbX2IevoAIsJwWp6VYGfY/s200/castreD.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464942984196624034" border="0" /></a> Allow me to tell you about my beloved Dr. Pap. He initially informed me I'd do a 6 week stint in my cast. But he gave me an unexpected prison release 2 weeks early for good behavior. I think he's aces. You will note my self-directed photo of him in action, taken on waning camera batteries by a hapless nurse. I shamelessly told her my little girl neighbors would thrill to the sight of my cast being sawed off. Can you imagine! The vibrating buzz saw was a bit scary even though I knew it would not pierce my skin. Once the dreaded encumbrance was off, my arm was revealed. Weak and a bit forlorn, but healing well. The occupational therapist promptly fit me with a lightweight splint: very high tech, made of thermo-something plastic, and custom-molded to my personal anatomy. I'm so damned happy to be free (of cast) at last!Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-88765434068505103412010-04-26T11:39:00.003-04:002010-04-26T15:57:54.613-04:00My darlin' Sparkelene<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiql9bd3kXGsRTl4cDpmEDRB7RNxjWnqrqzdcyfZTdo8dXEMEHoNVPT6g9Le-18GaOMedrGgdqSjHwyXCWDT5ueOyGWlpNFHyjvB_dO1h-kqKsFZS_DnMkUgfi0ET5y4zVF4EwmFm_783s/s1600/sparkstone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiql9bd3kXGsRTl4cDpmEDRB7RNxjWnqrqzdcyfZTdo8dXEMEHoNVPT6g9Le-18GaOMedrGgdqSjHwyXCWDT5ueOyGWlpNFHyjvB_dO1h-kqKsFZS_DnMkUgfi0ET5y4zVF4EwmFm_783s/s200/sparkstone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464471425281102754" border="0" /></a>Sunday marked The Boss's birthday, and I am consoled that she has plenty of lively canine company in the wilds of Lincoln, where she spent many happy hours at Camp Emily.<br /><br />I feel lucky that she has a city and country resting place, thanks to my dear Global Design Director, The Richard E. Lee (in his debut as a stone chiseler), Therese + Eddie (<span style="font-size:85%;">f.a.t.s.</span>), and Aunt Moon for their steadfast friendship and animal husbandry.<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Cain't help loving that dog of mi•i•ine.</span>Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-18992567732442792392010-04-24T19:02:00.014-04:002010-04-26T15:42:58.799-04:00Heaven on Earth<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDt3iprVodeL64cv9Lb4k-Xowgm4cdMFhU9ticDdxHjCY1Zr0pH188PFTggt_EjM6MRbM87851ZTraw_FGmQkME071lS6x07iETXJ6ruDaeJJ_IZXYW6rAyhtHUX6eHKJWjx7RLDstcw/s1600/treefarm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDt3iprVodeL64cv9Lb4k-Xowgm4cdMFhU9ticDdxHjCY1Zr0pH188PFTggt_EjM6MRbM87851ZTraw_FGmQkME071lS6x07iETXJ6ruDaeJJ_IZXYW6rAyhtHUX6eHKJWjx7RLDstcw/s200/treefarm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463843370861709842" border="0" /></a>Only a few more days in this tiresome cast. Tuesday I get my case (and cast) examined and, if all goes well, they'll saw it off and replace it with a splint. I can't tell you how glad I am to be getting rid of this heavy thing. It weighs upward of eight tons. I may be exaggerating a bit, but not about the relief I'll feel.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM7cVFckHQhCIzqLxPYj6yMIl4rsG-kWPcCo2YeQ5b_IkuMn1w98CIz4gfqpSLWmIOGaXZno_ETsgg9EbjImqXBZtp2vlIA5XZXtF4mQad3ftluAj75GsqwyE25Q2DTVH6iHxso_Cgj0/s1600/harvardobserv.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM7cVFckHQhCIzqLxPYj6yMIl4rsG-kWPcCo2YeQ5b_IkuMn1w98CIz4gfqpSLWmIOGaXZno_ETsgg9EbjImqXBZtp2vlIA5XZXtF4mQad3ftluAj75GsqwyE25Q2DTVH6iHxso_Cgj0/s200/harvardobserv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463872908950455570" border="0" /></a> Anticipation of this event made me so joyous I took a jaunt through the Lexington tree farm, a piece of conservation land set aside to grow municipal greenery. I felt happy as a young sprout. So happy that I later attended a special session of <a href="http://www.cfa.harvard.edu/events/mon.html">Observatory Nights</a> where I shared my thoughts (and impressive views of the moon and Venus) with astronomers on the roof of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-79612032760461684222010-04-21T00:01:00.003-04:002010-04-21T19:40:51.367-04:00Soul Sacrifice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJwqHCw_viUD-Mmn-Kvs3aL6qDLKXLnhmsJGJvWLuXp2ZPjwJjfrHzD1nVxooO_9Yit4pcBUKYdVOz9ND2wwz5nXnPNFpeqRl0Hi7fZSFEO6kTM29vGXa47pSQi3a_CqECxduqI5558Q/s1600/soulless.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJwqHCw_viUD-Mmn-Kvs3aL6qDLKXLnhmsJGJvWLuXp2ZPjwJjfrHzD1nVxooO_9Yit4pcBUKYdVOz9ND2wwz5nXnPNFpeqRl0Hi7fZSFEO6kTM29vGXa47pSQi3a_CqECxduqI5558Q/s200/soulless.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461278126278199042" border="0" /></a>Some corporate buildings are merely a neutral backdrop for workaday life. Others assault your soul with their monotonous blandness. I have inhabited both types. The lone picnic tables discovered outside the latter seem to suggest desperate measures; a hope that by taking a break in the out of doors one can somehow regain her humanity. Yet, isn't it the architect's responsibility to feed the spirit as well as house the body? The temporary nature of corporate buildings, with their so-called 7 year roofs, belie a cruelly spartan approach to design. Methinks we sometimes sacrifice too much in the name of efficiency.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-37970234439964938692010-04-18T16:52:00.007-04:002010-04-18T22:35:58.994-04:00All Charged Up<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK1XGvQkdQ5Myi8yiTsbt1fPD8S-W7t5NlAcytzZ9jbfvHDC_WfRo9_BcRKNA-4gbPFjQbQPTadTRsVyQpqTroDsDWh_i5dHeLSKsImcBIjZ3JBZEdWfw3-LKBtnxFIAVrN2uPSwtff0/s1600/MITflea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK1XGvQkdQ5Myi8yiTsbt1fPD8S-W7t5NlAcytzZ9jbfvHDC_WfRo9_BcRKNA-4gbPFjQbQPTadTRsVyQpqTroDsDWh_i5dHeLSKsImcBIjZ3JBZEdWfw3-LKBtnxFIAVrN2uPSwtff0/s200/MITflea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461583346862364530" border="0" /></a>I got all charged up on electronics at the <a href="http://w1mx.mit.edu/flea-at-mit">MIT flea market</a> Sunday afternoon. Raw and cold as it was in the garage on Portland Street, I was on fire. There I found capacitors, both electrolytic and tantalum, offered at bargain prices; spools of RG-8X cable like you read about; plus a complete <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPl0H1OD4fZ-4nwhG9qZieWcMQxHq0Q8uaAfNaEQe_8rVxfYH3PFqgvat3MEmng3SELqoh5B4zBaKD_tjYQw-71-av5m1DlITZA_QgN-GZ5O6PPIshJpRZIIMFnvi0qRW2BYMBrEPNiE/s1600/05-04800-lg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPl0H1OD4fZ-4nwhG9qZieWcMQxHq0Q8uaAfNaEQe_8rVxfYH3PFqgvat3MEmng3SELqoh5B4zBaKD_tjYQw-71-av5m1DlITZA_QgN-GZ5O6PPIshJpRZIIMFnvi0qRW2BYMBrEPNiE/s200/05-04800-lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461671585005606226" border="0" /></a>Nazi <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enigma_machine">Enigma machine</a> with a full bore documentary explaining its mysteries. Gals, if you like 'em nerdly and you don't mind the $5 admission ticket (the price of a boilermaker), this is <span style="font-style: italic;">the</span> place to be.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-33566951351061439982010-04-15T20:33:00.004-04:002010-04-15T20:43:16.842-04:00Brave Tulips Bloom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhjoy5GKLaSTvwBupPTHSx0UbO_dX5lVFVdzGnbhQ4x5kybC6QhfvbKiEgowzgJsTYvhKE8SXKtpTe3_E1KgmuUI1LxSvKuGNcGzsWUDZ9Sc19tD5FqJ3fEBRMgTYDHGLTClrpcLz_ks/s1600/sparkygarden1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhjoy5GKLaSTvwBupPTHSx0UbO_dX5lVFVdzGnbhQ4x5kybC6QhfvbKiEgowzgJsTYvhKE8SXKtpTe3_E1KgmuUI1LxSvKuGNcGzsWUDZ9Sc19tD5FqJ3fEBRMgTYDHGLTClrpcLz_ks/s200/sparkygarden1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460527071293916978" border="0" /></a>This week saw the official <span style="font-style: italic;">Jardin de Sparquette</span> bronze (OK, brass) plaque installed on Massachusetts Avenue. It provides a fitting and some say defiant counterpoint to that ignoble Harvard edifice I have come to call <a href="http://uttonbay.blogspot.com/2010/03/big-bondura.html">The Reichstag.</a><br /><br />That the Jardin flies in the face of Harvard's monstrosity is no mistake. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s8ueaHSarx-1JnzrPk3_W5P0UB5SYGhNiriPki8GNjckD9dUwIkzZeuv7oqFaf5XBeekYx_n8HT7iwD6VYK_zwjh49aBZwcu3vkssBbiTOHvBtrcdqxhrXKvF5rcmbIJVw782vLx9bE/s1600/garden_reichstag.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s8ueaHSarx-1JnzrPk3_W5P0UB5SYGhNiriPki8GNjckD9dUwIkzZeuv7oqFaf5XBeekYx_n8HT7iwD6VYK_zwjh49aBZwcu3vkssBbiTOHvBtrcdqxhrXKvF5rcmbIJVw782vLx9bE/s200/garden_reichstag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460527173866501922" border="0" /></a>For weeks, nay months, I have been hearing similar complaints from neighbors and visitors alike regarding the despoiling nature of the gargantuan new building. And now mere yards from it, brave tulips have the audacity to bloom. Take <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>, Harvard!Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-11027464609275377752010-04-10T15:27:00.013-04:002010-04-12T15:14:29.889-04:00On the Ball<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vJeIwM-aZJNM-7KPk6QJGdo1A2FaCNy4tezON7DwBl4G-UZoXcm7W3Cne6cfRI_Xb5zlaiDFnQDDYOWSZ2QCSbHTLKtljJ7046clOJZXFMvcjlqKC-QEGw46Eo7CF9LsdtU4xBQT3-o/s1600/walkie_target.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vJeIwM-aZJNM-7KPk6QJGdo1A2FaCNy4tezON7DwBl4G-UZoXcm7W3Cne6cfRI_Xb5zlaiDFnQDDYOWSZ2QCSbHTLKtljJ7046clOJZXFMvcjlqKC-QEGw46Eo7CF9LsdtU4xBQT3-o/s200/walkie_target.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458592646997513730" border="0" /></a>Here I am outside Target in Woburn, MA, giving instructions to my accomplice "on the inside" by walkie-talkie. Note that I appear to be resting on a large red cement ball. In Barcelona, these <a href="http://img1.eyefetch.com/p/r1/171110-92d0985f-6fe2-48bf-ab5f-1045d4e18135l.jpg">balls are a design feature</a>. They're commonly placed on sidewalks and plazas to protect pedestrians from being mowed down by errant cars. But since not a single car looked inclined to jump the curb, I felt quite safe.<br /><br />I came here today to see how famed design house <a href="http://www.liberty.co.uk/">Liberty of London's</a> patterns look plastered on Target's voluminous line of wares. And what do they look like, you ask? A bit chintzy, to tell the truth. It reminded me of Melmac or Corelle ware. (It's unbreakable, that's what it i•i•is...) The stuff just exuded mass-produced gimmickry. Of course, I am wild about Target. I just think they should stick with the basics and, when they team up with known quantities, they should keep the originality <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> the quality up to snuff. Nuff said?Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1913199394699717410.post-60301014967997341452010-04-04T16:36:00.018-04:002010-04-05T12:28:00.994-04:00My Worst Cauchemar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFMdLd5vEbfs8UEo_U94IkDjDsA1PtXwbatWcpVjup5I8P8fmIOGIayMg3nROw9VdquPdOBosPqEzq5HGF5ZM0MDUCBJmwaH-gikJjmuGVGSNziDJasIksoUZVfS0dfACHW2f6GTiZwU/s1600/real_estate:art.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFMdLd5vEbfs8UEo_U94IkDjDsA1PtXwbatWcpVjup5I8P8fmIOGIayMg3nROw9VdquPdOBosPqEzq5HGF5ZM0MDUCBJmwaH-gikJjmuGVGSNziDJasIksoUZVfS0dfACHW2f6GTiZwU/s200/real_estate:art.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456384441122338962" border="0" /></a>Imagine. You dream of being a celebrated painter. Instead, you end up sharing a suburban storefront with your husband's real estate business. To me, that would be a horrifying cauchemar (nightmare), but apparently one person is actually living it by day.<br /><br />I'm not going to reveal the town this husband and wife realtor/art studio inhabits, and I deliberately blurred the signage to maintain the couple's privacy. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4Noy6G4SleB8UssTn5zuYW5hzdsyf2FeLGOvq46Ke2krpKXqbzD61_DEUktCESPswys-vSRIrsg_VBo-Up_x5lsFOACTOh_3t6Kxy1SvXIDR8WPcYPC-khCulgKzJ_5aq1exuTePwOw/s1600/lion_cat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4Noy6G4SleB8UssTn5zuYW5hzdsyf2FeLGOvq46Ke2krpKXqbzD61_DEUktCESPswys-vSRIrsg_VBo-Up_x5lsFOACTOh_3t6Kxy1SvXIDR8WPcYPC-khCulgKzJ_5aq1exuTePwOw/s200/lion_cat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456384565208418898" border="0" /></a>I have a hard time publicly ridiculing someone's personal vision. Yet I suspect there's an exception for disturbingly weird combos of real estate and art, especially when it's truly, hideously <span style="font-style: italic;">awful.</span> Anyone for teen girl fantasies incorporating pet lions and fey young men bearing roses and appetizers? <span style="font-style: italic;">Phew</span>.<br /><br />If you ask me, this kind <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33k3w5z9k_MyMXRXT0jcPoLjblgBOdmlYBZD4jdWfQf7Zx6bzCkTLzlEqNT6bfnH2MYXpcVW8KXyqdhA7Omo8WvhqC8fLKYSH3Bmnr7vTyTy3VfTidB7FaKRYqIW-mCpotWC7nISNiVw/s1600/girly_garden.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33k3w5z9k_MyMXRXT0jcPoLjblgBOdmlYBZD4jdWfQf7Zx6bzCkTLzlEqNT6bfnH2MYXpcVW8KXyqdhA7Omo8WvhqC8fLKYSH3Bmnr7vTyTy3VfTidB7FaKRYqIW-mCpotWC7nISNiVw/s200/girly_garden.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456384758954301906" border="0" /></a>of stuff should be limited to pen scratchings on the inside cover of a biology notebook and not shown in public (and never with price tags on it.) I'm sure some of you will think my cast has made me mean spirited. Maybe so. But honestly, would you want one of these creations in your living room? I think not.Boston • Paris • New Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02740334810413017758noreply@blogger.com6