Cash, those shoes look very cute and comfy; I know some toddlers with similar shoes and they seem very happy with 'em.

I must confess that these totally kill me dead.

I must confess that these totally kill me dead.

This is what's bad about having a kid--you have to actually TRY on the wee shoes. The store we went to didn't have THOSE, else I'd have bought them.

Might get them for the next pair. He'll need new ones like, what? Next month?

We just got some like these for Aidan ( [link] ) and he really loves them.

I remember those shoes! They are very cute. And look dead sexy with his little jacket.

Deena, those are so cute. So are Owen's, Cashmere. My kids desperately need sandals for the summer. We have a famous footwear outlet in the next town over. I have to remember to get myself there, before the summer stock is gone.

I think I still need to get to Stride Rite to have a real pair of shoes in addition to the sandals. Since it's been so cold here he may actually need sneakers or oxfords or some other little walking shoe.

Oh, and as we came out of the store there was SNOW--granted, just a few flakes and it was a brief shower, but there was actual white stuff in the air. IN. MAY.

Congratulations to Sparky's DH!

JZ, you just completely solved my 'what to get Ishkabibble', baby shower cunumdrum. Ish's soon to be first time daddy (I just went to a reincarnaiton place there, excuse me) has grown-up boots with those exact flames. He had a pair of custom leather biker pants made to match. I. Cannot. Wait! to get a picture of the two of them decked out in their flames.

Thanks for the link!

We had flakes tonight too. So weird. I'm hoping the shoes Aidan is outgrowing outlast this freakish weather so he can wear his sandals until fall, assuming his feet cooperate. I'd like to get new shoes for Greg and me, and there's budget juggling involved.

Hijacking the thread to start regaling you with tales of the move.

Tuesday morning, the nice people from Atlas Van Lines came and took away all my stuff. This was mildly distressing, even though I was reasonably certain that I would get my stuff back at some point in the not-too-distant future. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, probably a little more thoroughly than necessary, but I didn't want to leave the new owner with the kind of pit that I received. I would tell you about the supposedly matte-finish ivory colored microwave control panel that turned out to be, in fact, glossy white, but it would be too distressing. Or I could mention the 'compost heap' that turned out to be years of unremoved debris lurking in the basement stairwell. This guy is getting a clean house. If he's allergic to the smell of Pine Sol, then too bad.

Since I had no stuff, no cat, and an Aero-bed of dodgy quality, I took my friend up on her offer of a place to spend the night. The two nights I stayed there were uneventful, if a little nerve-wracking; her eldest cat has developed a tendency to pee in unwelcome places, including on people who are sleeping. Oh, her dog (a pit bull/rat terrier mix) insisted on sleeping with me for some reason, much to everyone's consternation. His owners missed having their baby in bed with them, and I missed being able to move my legs in my sleep.

Wednesday was settlement. I got a very large check. This very large check is now in the possession of the bank holding the mortgage on my new house. Still, it was kind of fun to have that much money in my possession for just a little while. Also, the buyer's realtor commented several times on how clean my house looked and smelled on the walk-through. I will admit to feeling a bit smug.

Thursday was the drive out. My dad was kind enough to keep me company on the drive out and share the driving duties. I learned a few things about my dad on the trip out, namely that that if he can't pin down his exact location on a map, he can get a little bit agitated. I'm thinking his experiences in Vietnam (river patrol, Cambodian border) might have a little something to do with this. On I-70, somewhere around Frederick, MD, we had the following conversation.

DAD: We're taking 70 all the way out, right?

ME: No way. Pennsylvania has too many tolls, too much construction, and the Allegheny Tunnel. Remember how I freak out in caves? We're not going through Pennsylvania.

DAD: So how are we getting there? Do you have a map?

ME: Don't need one.

At this point, I pull an index card out from under my sun visor.

CARD: 70W-->68W-->79S(Mtown)-->64W(Chstn)-->HOME

ME: Easy as pie!

Dad fretted through most of West Virginia, but he did finally admit that the scenery was prettier than the endless Jersey walls we'd see in Pennsylvania.

You may note that I have not mentioned the cat. He rode contentedly in his carrier or on my lap throughout the trip.

As in the past, Dad and I talk best if we have something specific to talk about, and CDs provided a lot of that material. One thing we listened to was Chuck Brodsky's "Baseball Ballads," which are wonderful, wonderful things. The one about Doc Gibbs' no-hitter was a thing of beauty, as was the one about the deceased Phillies announcer (Whitey something or other). The latter song actually made me a bit teary-eyed, reminding me that Jack Buck was one of only three celebrities whose death made me cry (Dr. Seuss and Mr. Rogers were the other two). We also listened to Townes Van Zandt's posthumous album. Nice, but the arrangement of "Pancho and Lefty" was jarringly upbeat.

We also listened to the audiobook of Sarah Vowell's "Assassination Vacation." Damn, but that was good. The similarities between the McKinley era (especially the shenanigans in the Philippines) and today's circus are downright eerie. Other things that struck me is that James Garfield seems like he was a genuinely nice guy, and he would have made an interesting president if he hadn't gotten shot. Also, (continued...)