On the 19th of April a new Lori Lamb came to town. This Lori is focused on good health, healthy eating, exercise, positivety and progress. Let me back up a bit, and I'll share the story that's lead me to this new Lori.
In September of 2011 I'd gotten pretty darned sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'd been fighting with arthritis in my lower back and hips for a couple of years, compounded by ongoing issues with plantar fascitis. The anti-inflammatory drugs I'd been taking had caused my blood pressure to increase to dangerous levels, so I was yanked off those meds, which were replaced with medication to manage my high blood pressure. Now, you're probably asking yourself; "what about your pain"? Yeah, I asked myself the same question, and then I asked my doctors. Their answer; lose weight.
Well hell, it's not as if that was the first time I'd heard that answer, but suddenly it was reverberating in my head and I couldn't shut it out! So over the next three weeks or so, between the ice packs and the heat wraps and the "sorry, I can't do X because I'm in too much pain" I started to finally listen to the doctors words. If I didn't lose weight, I was doomed to a lifetime of pain and missing out on really living. I'd already done that for a couple of years, and darn it, I just didn't want any more of that!
When I woke up the morning of September 25th 2011, I knew in my heart what I had to do, and I powered up my laptop and got busy researching weight loss surgeries. Years before I'd contemplated having the Lap Band procedure, but ultimately decided it just wasn't for me. That left only the Gastric Bypass as far as I knew. But then I saw something I hadn't ever seen before; Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy (aka the Gastric Sleeve).
Relatively new the the United States, but performed for several years and with great success in Europe, the Sleeve sounded less invasive than the Bypass, but reportedly had a solid success rate with good patient follow-through. I knew that either way I went, this was a lifestyle change ... not just another diet. But it was clear to me that it was time I made a major change to my life, or face a life filled with pain, and that just wasn't an option any longer.
Over the next few days I did my due diligence, and the more I dug around the web for information, the more interested in the Gastric Sleeve I became. And then I came upon the Bridges Center for Surgical Weight Loss and their connection to St Luke's Medical Center here in Phoenix. I knew St Luke's had a good reputation, but I didn't know anything about Bridges or their staff, but hey, you can find anything on the web, and this was no different.
The following week I had a date with Bridges Center for an evening of information about their surgical weight loss procedures. I was ready to make the lifestyle change I needed to ensure a life ahead of me, and I was excited! Still, as excited as I was, I chose to keep it all to myself. I was finally doing something for myself, and I wanted to keep it to myself.
Going to that informational evening was probably the best gift I'd ever given myself. That evening made everything crystal clear for me, and in my mind, cemented the deal; I was going to have a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy come hell or high water!
The following morning I phoned my insurance provider to find out what I needed to do to get their blessing and confirm the procedure would be a covered benefit. As a side note, it's important for me to make clear that even if my insurance carrier would've denied me this benefit, I would have found a way to pay for this life saving surgery. It was THAT important to me.
Let me be clear about me and the word "no"; I rarely if ever accept "no" as the final answer ... from anyone. I was once determined to get my husband a ride in an F-16 out at Luke Air Force Base and for six months my contact at Luke kept telling me "no, can't do it". And I just kept saying; "ask again, a no is just a maybe that hasn't found its yes yet"! After 8 months of persistance, I got the F-16 ride green-lighted and presented my sweet husband with the best birthday gift ever. My Luke contact later told me it would've been easier to get an audience with the Pope than wrangle an F-16 ride. Hmmm ... an audience with the Pope? Let me ponder that.
But as God's blessings would have it, my insurer was only too happy to give me a thumbs up. Of course, they also gave me a lengthy list of hoops I'd have to jump through before I could be scheduled for surgery, but I knew I was up to the task. The next step was to see my primary care provider for a 6-month doctor supervised weight loss program. Again, God was in my corner because my doctor was able to fit me in (no pun intended) two days later. When I finally shared my plans with my husband, he was every bit as supportive as I'd known he would be. I would even go so far as to say he was proud of me for coming to this decision for my own reasons.
The next 6 months were a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, food diaries, weigh-ins and tests. At the time, it seemed to pretty much monopolize my days, but looking back, it wasn't so bad. I just kept my goal in mind and got on with it. I learned a lot about the procedure I was about to undergo, and I learned a good bit about myself. I also took off 28 pounds in that 6 months, something I chalk up solely to keeping a food diary and embracing the whole lifestyle change choice.
On the morning of April 19th 2012 I walked into St Luke's Medical Center at 7:30 in the morning and said a quick but final goodbye to thirty years of struggling with being overweight. My husband tells me that the first words out of my mouth upon seeing my surgeon, Dr Daniel Fang, were; "let's get this show on the road Dan" ... but I have absolutely no recollection of that, and I'm sticking to that story.
My surgery went well. I'd made up my mind before going in that morning that I wanted to be up and walking around as soon as my doctor would allow it. In fact, I'd even made my husband promise to kick my ass - if need be - to get me up and keep me moving. I knew that the more I walked, and was able to get some nutrition in, the sooner my doctor would let me go home, and I was determined to spend no more than a single night in the hospital. Like I said before, I don't do "no" very well. So when my nurse said I didn't really need to walk the entire floor again, I ignored her and kept on moving. The following morning Dr Fang was so pleased with my progress that he signed my release papers, and I was out the door by lunch time.
It's now been 2 months, 1 week and 1 day since my surgery, and I feel great! More importantly, I've taken off 41 pounds since having the VSG, and 69.7 pounds since I began my journey towards a life of good health. I've made a lot of changes in my life, and I've had a lot of new experiences. And shopping for clothes is one hell of a lot more fun!
Choosing to change my lifestyle has been the best decision of my life. I may be 54, but there's a lot of life in this old girl, and by George ... she's gonna live it healthy! If you or someone you love and care about is struggling with being seriously overweight, and has a history of diet failures (as I did), please encourage them to do their own research into the weight loss surgery opportunities that exist today. If they're in the Phoenix area, send 'em on over to this website; www.bridgesaz.com ... neither of you will ever regret it!
Living healthy ~ Lori
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Here's the thing about prices
I'm sometimes asked what I charge (for the t-shirts, baby creepers and bibs I make) and why I charge what I charge. As is the case with any business, I'm in business to make money. I make money by charging a price that covers the cost of goods used to produce what I'm selling, such as the t-shirt (creeper, bib, etc), the ink, bags, and tags, plus the cost of actual production and a little bit for my time and effort. Of course I have to be reasonable, but I can't operate at a loss or my business won't stay in business. No business survives much less thrives by "giving it away".
Some prices are negotiable, such as when I buy t-shirts in a large enough volume that my vendor passes along savings to me, which I can then pass on to my customer. But since that's not always the case, some customers have a hard time understanding why they can buy a t-shirt from one printer for $6.00 where I might charge $16.00
To understand the difference in price, you also need to understand the difference in production - was the shirt done by screen printing or digital direct-to-garment printing? What is the content and weight of the shirt? Is it tagged or tagless, mens, women's or unisex? Organic cotton or a cotton/poly blend? And then of course, there's where the shirt is made. If it's made in China, Vietman, India or Bangladash to name a few, it's very likely going carry a significantly lower price from a shirt made in America. And just who is making your shirt? A large print shop that produces banners, signs, packaging, hats, t-shirts, tote bags in volume? Or an independent business owner that's considerably smaller in size and sales than one of the large chain printers.
So many factors go into determining the price tag on the items you buy, that there's not always a simple answer to "why do you charge more than printer XYZ"?
Aside from all the items above, there is also this; QUALITY. To me, quality is about the commitment of care and concern I put into every piece I make. I'm a big believer in autographing my work with excellence. I think this quote by William A. Foster pretty accurately sums it up; “Quality is never an accident; it is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, intelligent direction and skillful execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives.”
As a small business, I believe that I cannot and should not be all things to all people. I frequently turn business away because of this belief. But that also means that the business I do, is the best business I do, and I'm proud to do it.
When you give or wear an item of decorated apparel from La Petite Pilot or my new line INKRAGEOUS, you have the satisfaction of knowing it was made with my personal commitment to quality and care. And there's nothing cheap about that.
Lori
"There is hardly anything in the world that some man cannot make a little worse and sell a little cheaper, and the people who consider price only are this man's lawful prey." ~ John Ruskin
Some prices are negotiable, such as when I buy t-shirts in a large enough volume that my vendor passes along savings to me, which I can then pass on to my customer. But since that's not always the case, some customers have a hard time understanding why they can buy a t-shirt from one printer for $6.00 where I might charge $16.00
To understand the difference in price, you also need to understand the difference in production - was the shirt done by screen printing or digital direct-to-garment printing? What is the content and weight of the shirt? Is it tagged or tagless, mens, women's or unisex? Organic cotton or a cotton/poly blend? And then of course, there's where the shirt is made. If it's made in China, Vietman, India or Bangladash to name a few, it's very likely going carry a significantly lower price from a shirt made in America. And just who is making your shirt? A large print shop that produces banners, signs, packaging, hats, t-shirts, tote bags in volume? Or an independent business owner that's considerably smaller in size and sales than one of the large chain printers.
So many factors go into determining the price tag on the items you buy, that there's not always a simple answer to "why do you charge more than printer XYZ"?
Aside from all the items above, there is also this; QUALITY. To me, quality is about the commitment of care and concern I put into every piece I make. I'm a big believer in autographing my work with excellence. I think this quote by William A. Foster pretty accurately sums it up; “Quality is never an accident; it is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, intelligent direction and skillful execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives.”
As a small business, I believe that I cannot and should not be all things to all people. I frequently turn business away because of this belief. But that also means that the business I do, is the best business I do, and I'm proud to do it.
When you give or wear an item of decorated apparel from La Petite Pilot or my new line INKRAGEOUS, you have the satisfaction of knowing it was made with my personal commitment to quality and care. And there's nothing cheap about that.
Lori
"There is hardly anything in the world that some man cannot make a little worse and sell a little cheaper, and the people who consider price only are this man's lawful prey." ~ John Ruskin
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Beautiful things
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.” - Helen Keller
Helen Keller may not have had the gift of sight, but she certainly had the gift of insight. Her sense of what was beautiful came from her heart and soul. How many of us can say that?
A blush pink Arizona sunset, a Jacaranda tree in bloom, a string of black pearls, a field of daisy's blowing in a warm summer breeze. All beautiful to someone. Even Andy Warhol's take on the Campbell's soup can was beautiful to Warhol collectors, and to those who don't fancy his work, maybe it's just a painting of a can. After all, beauty's in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?
As for me, a certain airplane painted for Continental Airlines in honor of the Millennium by the pop culture icon/artist Peter Max was, and in my memory remains, beautiful. I first saw a photo of this Boeing 777 jet just over nine years ago when my now-husband showed me a picture of her, then gifted me with a miniature version. I was in love. With the airplane, not quite yet the man. And even though the plane's been stripped of its colorful paintjob (a necessity for some required inspection), a model of the plane autographed by Peter Max sits proudly in our livingroom, reminding me of the beautiful colorful bird she will always be to me.
Last weekend I got to experience beauty of another sort when I met our twin infant granddaughters; Olivia Marie and Ava Danielle. Born near the end of August, the girls are absolutely adorable with their dark eyes and downy soft dark hair. Looking down at my new granddaughters sleeping in my arms, I was overwhelmed at their simple beauty and the joy I felt in just watching them sleep.
I see beauty in a book, an old photo, a handcrafted piece of old lace, a lovingly decorated cake, a basket full of veggies plucked fresh from my own garden, the lithe body of one of my three cats. There's the beauty of a wrinkled face that's witnessed nearly 90 years of life, and the gold wedding band placed on her hand with love, and worn thin with time. Beauty doesn't have to be complex, it doesn't necessarily come with a hefty pricetag, and it needn't be bought. It can be as simple as a bowl of fresh lemons on the kitchen counter, or the smile of someone you love.
I have to admit that some days I'm far too wrapped up in life's challenges (and the occasional gray cloud or two) to see the beauty that's so obviously there. But I've decided to make more of an effort to take notice of what's beautiful in my life, and I invite you to do the same. Life's short, far too short to miss such gifts.
Below are some of my favorite "beauties".
Helen Keller may not have had the gift of sight, but she certainly had the gift of insight. Her sense of what was beautiful came from her heart and soul. How many of us can say that?
A blush pink Arizona sunset, a Jacaranda tree in bloom, a string of black pearls, a field of daisy's blowing in a warm summer breeze. All beautiful to someone. Even Andy Warhol's take on the Campbell's soup can was beautiful to Warhol collectors, and to those who don't fancy his work, maybe it's just a painting of a can. After all, beauty's in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?
As for me, a certain airplane painted for Continental Airlines in honor of the Millennium by the pop culture icon/artist Peter Max was, and in my memory remains, beautiful. I first saw a photo of this Boeing 777 jet just over nine years ago when my now-husband showed me a picture of her, then gifted me with a miniature version. I was in love. With the airplane, not quite yet the man. And even though the plane's been stripped of its colorful paintjob (a necessity for some required inspection), a model of the plane autographed by Peter Max sits proudly in our livingroom, reminding me of the beautiful colorful bird she will always be to me.
Last weekend I got to experience beauty of another sort when I met our twin infant granddaughters; Olivia Marie and Ava Danielle. Born near the end of August, the girls are absolutely adorable with their dark eyes and downy soft dark hair. Looking down at my new granddaughters sleeping in my arms, I was overwhelmed at their simple beauty and the joy I felt in just watching them sleep.
I see beauty in a book, an old photo, a handcrafted piece of old lace, a lovingly decorated cake, a basket full of veggies plucked fresh from my own garden, the lithe body of one of my three cats. There's the beauty of a wrinkled face that's witnessed nearly 90 years of life, and the gold wedding band placed on her hand with love, and worn thin with time. Beauty doesn't have to be complex, it doesn't necessarily come with a hefty pricetag, and it needn't be bought. It can be as simple as a bowl of fresh lemons on the kitchen counter, or the smile of someone you love.
I have to admit that some days I'm far too wrapped up in life's challenges (and the occasional gray cloud or two) to see the beauty that's so obviously there. But I've decided to make more of an effort to take notice of what's beautiful in my life, and I invite you to do the same. Life's short, far too short to miss such gifts.
Below are some of my favorite "beauties".
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering and honoring
What I'm about to write might seem out of place in this blog, but I hope readers will indulge me and read on. Today is September 11, 2011. In just over 8 hours, many Americans will observe a moment of silence, as we remember the day 10 years ago that changed our lives and our nation's landscape forever.
For me, September 11, 2001 started out as just another day. I was on my way to work in my office on the perimeter of the Scottsdale Airport. I had the radio on in my car, and usual, I was frustrated with morning commute traffic. Instead of stopping at the local Starbucks, which I did nearly every morning on my way to work, for some unknown reason, I pulled into a neighborhood sandwich & coffee shop. As I walked in, the girl behind the counter commented that a plane had just flown into the World Trade Center in New York City. I remember thinking, and I believe I even said; "it's probably foggy in New York, and some guy in a little plane got lost". The shop had no tv, and I honestly didn't think any more of it. I just figured some private pilot got lost or confused, and hit the skyscraper. No big deal, right?
Less than 5 minutes later I walked into my office. The hallway was still dark, but I could hear voices. Loud voices sounding worried and rushed. Instead of going into my own office, I turned the corner into the call center area in time to watch the second airplane hit the WTC, almost as if in slow motion. Could I be seeing what I thought I'd just seen? Could a jet really hit the World Trade Center? And why? The sky looked clear. I didn't see any fog. How does a jet hit a skyscraper on a clear and cloudless morning?
And suddenly our phones went crazy. In September 2001 I worked as the director of training and development for a software company that designed, implemented and maintained crew lodging and transportation software for airline crews. Our largest customer was a US based freight company, for whom we assisted hundreds of crewmembers each day. Because we held hotel rooms world wide, and because aviation in the US came to a complete standstill, it seemed that everyone was calling us looking for help accommodating their crewmembers who'd been stranded. The callers were polite but obviously anxious and they needed help quickly.
I don't know how many calls we took that day. I don't remember who we called to come in and help us field the calls. I don't remember what time I left my office late that night. I don't remember who I spoke with that day, or even that week. I do remember someone ordering pizza's to be delivered for lunch. I also remember feeling ice cold that day and for many days after. And living in Phoenix Arizona, September's aren't cold. But I was. From the inside out, I just felt cold.
The following Summer I met a commercial airline pilot that I would eventually fall in love with and marry. He's a great pilot, a professional, someone whose skill and judgement I trust implicitly. I've often told him that he somehow becomes part of his airplane when he's in the cockpit. I can't explain that, it's just a feeling I get when I see him flying, whether it's the Boeing 777 he fly's for Continental or our little Cessna 150.
I can't say that I never worry about Keith on his trips. In our early years, when I'd drop him off at the airport for a trip to Tel Aviv Israel, I'd have to stop to get through a panic attack brought about by my fears for his safety there. Even now, whether it's a hurricane on the east coast or a frigid winter in Beijing, I worry about my husband. But weather and city safety are small potatos compared with the worries I and other pilots' wives have about the possibility of a repeat of the events of September 11, 2001.
Today my husband is in Hong Kong. He'll leave there late tonight, returning home tomorrow evening. And from the time he boards his plane, until I hear his voice shortly after landing in Newark, New Jersey - I will track his flight online and hope and pray for his safety, just as I do for every single flight he takes.
I pray that we never again experience the sort of violation our nation experienced that September day 10 years ago. I pray that no spouse, parent, child or sibling has to again lose a loved one at the hands of religious fanatics. I hope that we as a nation never take our safety and security so lightly that we become complacent and again fall victim to madmen.
More than anything, I pray that time somehow eases the pain of that September day and that we as a nation can someday watch September 11th pass as just another date on the calendar. But today won't be that day. Today we will remember, and mourn again the loss of so many innocent lives, and perhaps, our greater innocence in general.
God Bless America
For me, September 11, 2001 started out as just another day. I was on my way to work in my office on the perimeter of the Scottsdale Airport. I had the radio on in my car, and usual, I was frustrated with morning commute traffic. Instead of stopping at the local Starbucks, which I did nearly every morning on my way to work, for some unknown reason, I pulled into a neighborhood sandwich & coffee shop. As I walked in, the girl behind the counter commented that a plane had just flown into the World Trade Center in New York City. I remember thinking, and I believe I even said; "it's probably foggy in New York, and some guy in a little plane got lost". The shop had no tv, and I honestly didn't think any more of it. I just figured some private pilot got lost or confused, and hit the skyscraper. No big deal, right?
Less than 5 minutes later I walked into my office. The hallway was still dark, but I could hear voices. Loud voices sounding worried and rushed. Instead of going into my own office, I turned the corner into the call center area in time to watch the second airplane hit the WTC, almost as if in slow motion. Could I be seeing what I thought I'd just seen? Could a jet really hit the World Trade Center? And why? The sky looked clear. I didn't see any fog. How does a jet hit a skyscraper on a clear and cloudless morning?
And suddenly our phones went crazy. In September 2001 I worked as the director of training and development for a software company that designed, implemented and maintained crew lodging and transportation software for airline crews. Our largest customer was a US based freight company, for whom we assisted hundreds of crewmembers each day. Because we held hotel rooms world wide, and because aviation in the US came to a complete standstill, it seemed that everyone was calling us looking for help accommodating their crewmembers who'd been stranded. The callers were polite but obviously anxious and they needed help quickly.
I don't know how many calls we took that day. I don't remember who we called to come in and help us field the calls. I don't remember what time I left my office late that night. I don't remember who I spoke with that day, or even that week. I do remember someone ordering pizza's to be delivered for lunch. I also remember feeling ice cold that day and for many days after. And living in Phoenix Arizona, September's aren't cold. But I was. From the inside out, I just felt cold.
The following Summer I met a commercial airline pilot that I would eventually fall in love with and marry. He's a great pilot, a professional, someone whose skill and judgement I trust implicitly. I've often told him that he somehow becomes part of his airplane when he's in the cockpit. I can't explain that, it's just a feeling I get when I see him flying, whether it's the Boeing 777 he fly's for Continental or our little Cessna 150.
I can't say that I never worry about Keith on his trips. In our early years, when I'd drop him off at the airport for a trip to Tel Aviv Israel, I'd have to stop to get through a panic attack brought about by my fears for his safety there. Even now, whether it's a hurricane on the east coast or a frigid winter in Beijing, I worry about my husband. But weather and city safety are small potatos compared with the worries I and other pilots' wives have about the possibility of a repeat of the events of September 11, 2001.
Today my husband is in Hong Kong. He'll leave there late tonight, returning home tomorrow evening. And from the time he boards his plane, until I hear his voice shortly after landing in Newark, New Jersey - I will track his flight online and hope and pray for his safety, just as I do for every single flight he takes.
I pray that we never again experience the sort of violation our nation experienced that September day 10 years ago. I pray that no spouse, parent, child or sibling has to again lose a loved one at the hands of religious fanatics. I hope that we as a nation never take our safety and security so lightly that we become complacent and again fall victim to madmen.
More than anything, I pray that time somehow eases the pain of that September day and that we as a nation can someday watch September 11th pass as just another date on the calendar. But today won't be that day. Today we will remember, and mourn again the loss of so many innocent lives, and perhaps, our greater innocence in general.
God Bless America
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Branching Out
When I first began making t-shirts and baby onesies, I honestly thought it would be temporary. I truly believed I'd maybe have one or two orders, and be done. It really didn't occur to me that there would be repeat buyers or a demand for more items. It's not that I didn't think my work was good, but I thought to myself; "how many airplane t-shirts could one person want?" It took awhile for it to get through my thick skull that people who like aviation and especially those who fly planes LOVE, LOVE, LOVE wearing t-shirts with airplanes on them. ALL KINDS OF AIRPLANES!
Four years and thousands of t-shirts and baby onesies later, I'm still surprised when people request other airplanes or gliders or helicopters, things I haven't yet printed. Of course the answer is always an enthusiastic "yes", and I immediately get to work creating their vision (with my own spin).
It's clear to me now that what keeps my business fresh and exciting for me is the enjoyment I derive from the creative side of it. I can happily sit with my laptop for hours on end creating new designs both for customers, and just for my own satisfaction.
It's this enjoyment of the creative aspect of my business that's lead me to branch out and introduce a whole new design line.
Welcome to INKRAGEOUS
Inkrageous is all about t-shirts with a little class, a little sass, a little bad ass. Inkrageous designs are sometimes sarcastic, sometimes flirtatious, always fun and colorful. And while most of the designs are for women to wear, I think men will get a kick out of them too. Well, I hope so anyway.
Though my La Petite Pilot line is sold mostly through airport pilot shops (and private orders), Inkrageous designs will be available in my soon-to-be opened Etsy store (Inkrageous) and of course, through this blog (just send me a message/comment with your email address).
It's funny to think I spent more than 30 years in corporate America and I was never as contented or happy as I've been working for myself the past four years. That old adage really is true; "do what you love, and the money will follow." Who knew? I hope you'll enjoy looking through some of my new designs. I welcome all feedback and comments.
Life is Good ... make it outrageous with something from Inkrageous!
Lori
Four years and thousands of t-shirts and baby onesies later, I'm still surprised when people request other airplanes or gliders or helicopters, things I haven't yet printed. Of course the answer is always an enthusiastic "yes", and I immediately get to work creating their vision (with my own spin).
It's clear to me now that what keeps my business fresh and exciting for me is the enjoyment I derive from the creative side of it. I can happily sit with my laptop for hours on end creating new designs both for customers, and just for my own satisfaction.
It's this enjoyment of the creative aspect of my business that's lead me to branch out and introduce a whole new design line.
Welcome to INKRAGEOUS
Inkrageous is all about t-shirts with a little class, a little sass, a little bad ass. Inkrageous designs are sometimes sarcastic, sometimes flirtatious, always fun and colorful. And while most of the designs are for women to wear, I think men will get a kick out of them too. Well, I hope so anyway.
Though my La Petite Pilot line is sold mostly through airport pilot shops (and private orders), Inkrageous designs will be available in my soon-to-be opened Etsy store (Inkrageous) and of course, through this blog (just send me a message/comment with your email address).
It's funny to think I spent more than 30 years in corporate America and I was never as contented or happy as I've been working for myself the past four years. That old adage really is true; "do what you love, and the money will follow." Who knew? I hope you'll enjoy looking through some of my new designs. I welcome all feedback and comments.
Life is Good ... make it outrageous with something from Inkrageous!
Lori
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