Sunday warmup

In the morning, while fixing breakfast, I listen to Aishah Rascoe (who has to be one of NPR's best!) interview Ilyasah Shabazz, one of the middle daughters of Malcolm X (he had six of them). So much to learn about this man, his life, his evolution, and the image that he left for others to exploit after his death! The interview gave me a new perspective on him. A daughter's perspective, as it were. I was just 11 when he was assassinated and so all I knew was what I learned after. The complexities had faded. Time erases nuance.

I then read an article about Senator Chris Murphy (from Connecticut). I'll gift that one for you here. Why? No, silly reader -- not because his mother is of Polish descent (and has a maiden name remarkably similar to mine), and not because his sister shares the name of one of my daughters! Rather -- because reading it gives you hope. It reminds you that there are smart people in Congress who seek to understand the current crisis and address it with the tools we now have available to us. Pay attention to this guy. If we have elections in 2028 (and it is an "if"), I would expect Murphy to be among the front runners on the Democratic ticket.

Why all this reading early on? Well, Ed did the run to the barn to feed the animals this morning. As a favor, yes, but mostly so that I would hurry up with my morning rituals, so that we could head out to do our (perhaps last) cross country skiing.

Breakfast, still leisurely, followed soon on the heels of morning chores.

And by 10, we were in our local park.

That's exceptionally early for us. Why rush out like this? Because the temps are rising and the snow is melting and there wasn't that much of it in the first place. 

Is this our last ski outing for the year? It could be. Best commemorate it!

(a selfie that didn't quite align well!)

(proof that I was there... in my pink sweatpants)

It is a good outing. Indeed, a great one. We didn't quite get a robust skiing season this year, but we had this -- a few days in February that weren't drab or bleak or centered on the living room couch. We are grateful!

 

And the afternoon, which is in fact split between the couch and chores, quickly morphs into the evening. Dinner with the young family!

(crackers, cheese, olives: take your pick! Snowdrop always goes for the olives. The boys? cheese on very long crackers!)

 

 

 

 

Dinner.

 

 

After everyone was fed and the kitchen was tidied and toys were put away, Ed and I watched a new video from our old farmer favorite (Just a Few Acres). The farmer, who lives in upstate New York, noted that winter was half over. Half over?? No way! I'd say we're heading into spring. Sure, early spring, which does last a long time up north. The ground is hard as a rock and there will be a spotty snow cover for a while. But when you have temps inching up -- for me, that's a sign of early spring. Not just the second half of winter!

One last week of February, coming up!

with love...

Saturday warm-up

Oh there is nothing like a good night's sleep and a day of sunshine to make you almost forget the horrors of this world. Almost, but not quite.

I feed the animals...

Then drive to the bakery for a supply of croissants...

And of course, the news is on. Stories about people who have lost their work. Overnight. With suddenly nothing. No word on unemployment compensation, health insurance. Just a big silence. 

I read later several comments on this. From good employers who had had to fire people in their companies. They wrote how tough it was -- they couldn't sleep for days knowing that they were imposing hardship on families. And there, the termination was warranted. Not random, helter skelter, based not on efficiencies but on someone's idea of a good time. "Let's have some fun!"-- cries the perpetrator (Thursday, Musk). While people suffer.

By the time I sit down to breakfast I'm jolted out of my state of blissful peace. 

Still, I eat breakfast with Ed, and Dance, and those two help me let go a little of the tension. 

 

And the croissant is excellent! It took many, many years before croissants sold in bakeries here could be ranked as superb. And I say this having baked croissants for L'Etoile for several years. (I thought they were just okay.) These days, I have no complaints. The fact is, several of our bakeries make fine croissants. Madison Sourdough just happens to have ones Ed and I regard as top of the line.

 

 

 

Later in the morning, Ed went to give blood again (free t-shirt!) and I did my usual guaranteed relaxation: a rework of a trip. This one isn't until the summer, but it was great fun re-imagining it.  It's as if I already took the one that was on the books, then scrapped, and now I was ready for something new! 

And in the afternoon Ed and I pack our cross country skis into the car and head out to our local park. And it is beautiful. 

The forest is quiet. Not a soul in sight. The wind on the prairie is gusty, but here, in the woods, the trees shelter us. I suppose they've seen it all: people have done some pretty insane, destructive things before. And they will do it again. But the trees will stand tall despite the tumult. In the forest, I can always lose myself in their quiet, their sympathetic nod. Their protective branches.

Home again. I make chicken soup, with egg noodles. Seems a good option for tonight. Now if Ed would only find light fare on the TV, we'd be set! Eh, we're set anyway. We are among the lucky. Unemployed by choice. Old, but content.

with love...

Friday in favor of moderation

So much sunshine! Take one look at the weather: there's a real push toward spring.

 

 

 

We are feeling boisterous. Breakfast chatter is about fixing some things (cat door to sheep shed, for example). Hard to believe that in two months I'll be outlining my planting agenda for the day. 

But boisterous doesn't equate with fast. For example, our breakfast? Slow...

Do I sound like a broken record when I say (yet again!) that sometimes slow is good and speed is destructive?

I read in the press interviews with those who voted for the leadership we have now in this country and I am surprised how many are favorably impressed with how fast this administration is forcing through its agenda. 

Is that good? 

I am reminded of Sandpiper's visits to the farmhouse on Sundays. He can undo any structure the other two may have built or set up in the course of the week, with lightening speed. And he's just three years old. Amazing how easy it is to shoot a cannon ball at something that was erected with patience and care. Quick to wreck, without thought or analysis. This is a good thing?? I don't understand. What have you gained from it now and more importantly, how will this affect your future?  Do you even know? Don't you wonder if someone is maybe pulling the wool over your eyes with all this talk of fraud and waste without evidence of either? Blindsiding you just a bit? Quickly, with speed, before you can understand what's really happening? 

 

We go cross country skiing. It's windy but beautiful outside! We're not fast on the trails. But not slow either. Moderate!

 

And I pick up the kids, bring them home...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

... feed them, give them play space, read, then pack into the car so that the girl can get to her lessons on time. We've taken to pausing then at Barrique's. Sparrow and I, and eventually my daughter, and still later the lesson girl. It's a great way to let go of the week and ease into the weekend. What are your plans? -- she asks. What are yours -- I want to know.

I drive home. To Ed, to the farmhouse. To our peaceful quiet. 

with love...

 

skiing

I have a friend who has two kids and a handful of grandkids. Some live in Wisconsin, the rest in Hawaii. The whole family likes to ski and so once a year they meet up at some midpoint destination (Utah for example) for a few days of skiing. I asked her recently -- how are the grandkids at skiing? She said -- well, the Wisconsin kids are great. The Hawaii one? What can I say, he lives in Hawaii and skis only once a year.

I thought immediately that Snowdrop is heading in that direction. Twice now I've taken her skiing, with a year's break in between. Oh, she's making progress alright. At a snail's pace.

For those of you who don't know Wisconsin's topography -- we do have hills of a reasonable (if perhaps modest) size. And we have skiing facilities. Limited, but running the range, from green to black trails. What Snowdrop and her family do not have is time. And motivation: since her parents do not ski, it's not a family activity, and so the idea of skiing gets pushed to the side. You might ask -- why doesn't at least her mom ski -- after all, that's my daughter we're talking about. Well, I did take her skiing a few times, and she went with groups of friends as well, but it's an expensive sport and my then husband was not a winter sports guy, so it never caught on.

After Snowdrop's days with Matthieu in Saint Martin de Belleville, I decided I need to take on this project at home: get the girl on skis at least a couple of times here, in Wisconsin.

Then came the weather issues. That we have no snow is not necessarily an impediment. Snow making machines are standard on ski slopes. But honestly, it's been too cold! And I have just one day in the week when she is with me without Sparrow (who believe me, is not a champion of winter sports). To say nothing of her other evening activities -- ballet, violin, Shakespeare. Where's the free time exactly? All good intentions slipped away.

Until today.

I don't care that it's still, well, kind of cold. (High of 21F/-6C) She has a clean day. No activities. Sparrow is not with us today. It's now or never.

 

The day begins slowly. I'm thinking about, reading about people and cats. Let's first consider the easier of the two: cats.

When I head out to feed the animals, I see that the chickens are out of their barn shelter. They're not happy with the cold, but I suppose the slight upswing in temps is a good motivator to start roaming. Even though it can be a painful trek through the snow and icy paths.

The cats are more adept at navigating winter terrain. And they do navigate it: they're all out this morning. And they're primed for confrontation. Tuxie, the sweetest little girl from the sheep shed, is nearly always a target: she has been chased and clobbered by nearly all of them. Why? This gentle spirit deserves a cuddle not a clobber.

I talk abou the cat squabbles over breakfast.

Ed shrugs. It's cat dynamics: one minute they chase each other and get into a brawl, the next they're rubbing cheeks. 

I've never seen Tuxie chase anyone. She's always the one who is bullied by the rest! Lately she has been trying to come to the farmhouse porch, closer to where we hang out -- always to be snarled at and chased out by the others.

Ed is nonplussed. It's just cats.

I know it's just cats! It's an aspect of cat behavior I dont happen to like. And because every negative comparison comes down to a reference to Hitler, I add -- it's just people behind the Nazi party, but I don't have to like or even tolerate the fact that there are Nazi supporters in this world.

Which of course brings me to Elon Musk, who does support the far right party in Germany. And don't tell me they are not Nazis -- if you do, I'll ask you to listen to this very smart and at the same time very funny 8 minute video, with a gifted link from me -- here. 

Did you watch it? I of course belong to that post war generation that grappled with how to talk about World War II and the Holocaust. It's interesting that in the video clip, we learn that Germany took on the burden of its past in a round the clock fashion. 24/7. I honestly did not feel that presence of its recent history the few times I visited Berlin. (I even wrote about this on Ocean.) I thought it had moved on much more than my own country had. The slogan oft repeated in the video -- "Never Again" -- was in fact plastered all over my classroom walls. In Polish. It was the only classroom decoration. We did not put aside our memories of the war, albeit we were selective in the way we remembered it. We left out details.

Can you see how it rattles a postwar Polish born person, to see Musk giving a Nazi salute, or to hear Vance admonishing the German nation for hesitating to give fascists a seat at the table? To hear that Russian aggression on Ukrainian soil was somehow the fault of the Ukrainians? Where were you two in the 1940s and 1950s anyway? Oh, I see. Not born yet. Birthdays in the 1970s and 1980s. You naive, insensitive fools. (And that's being kind.)

 

The sun is out. I pack up some foods to nourish a hungry Snowdrop and I drive over to pick her up after school. From there, we are off to Tyrol Basin. Just 29 minutes from her school!

This is a hill for Madisonians who want to keep up their ski habit. I signed Snowdrop up for a lesson and by 3:30-ish, she is on the slopes.

(one long magic carpet...)

 

 (down an empty slope)

 

I suppose I could have skied as well, but it really is a bit nippy out there and a ride up on a chair lift is not my idea of fun right now. Even though it is completely empty. I'd have the hills virtually to myself. Still, I'm not committed to going back to the sport. It's risky. I'm not sure it's worth it. I dont need a second busted knee, or a broken rib from a hellishly out of control snowboarder. So I wait inside. 

 

(dusk on the slopes)

 

(done and happy!)

 

 

I ask her on the drive home how her lesson here compares to the ones in France. (From my own observations, it looked like her instructor today pushed her less, though definitely paying attention to technique. Both French guys were all about having her do more, shrugging off her hesitation.)

She tells me all were fine, but Matthieu from Saint Martin de Belleville, was her favorite. So funny and playful! We had snowball fights! 

We drive home after sunset. The landscape west of Madison is gently hilly and the snow cover from last week's snowfalls looks absolutely lovely in the fading light. Even Snowdrop is enchanted!

 

At home I come back to my now defrosted fish. The cats lick their chomps in delighted anticipation. They're on their best behavior. Manipulative felines! Ah well, you were all feral once. I suppose it stays with you, even when you're in a warm house, with comfy cushions and dishes piled with salmon skins!

with love...

 

what we have

Just a few days ago, that post title may have read "what we have lost." Maybe I would have added, for clarity "what we have lost in America." Today? I have a wealth of headings that come to mind: the one that I gave you, with perhaps this addition, for clarity: "what we have in America." Or "the other side." No, not "the other side of the ocean" (remember when that was the name of this blog?) but "the other side of America." Or, looking at it from another angle, I could have revived the well known saying "if it bleeds it leads."

You've been reading a lot I'm sure, in the press and in the comments of a frustrated public. About Congress's limp response to Musk/Trump bulldozing of America. How ostensibly the Democrats are wallowing in their election debacle, seemingly at a loss as to how to react. And, of course, the news feeds have been full of stories about Musk/Trump arrogance, plundering, destroying, gleefully taking control of a country that was once considered a shining example of democratic governance. So of course, you're left with the feeling that we no longer are who we once were, or at least wanted to be. I've written about it here: it's easy to feel ashamed, on the world stage for sure, at home -- even more so. How could we let this happen?

But this morning I'm thinking about that other side. And in support of this perspective, let me reintroduce you to Andy Borowitz -- an author, a humorist -- someone who happens to write from that "other side," and whose newsletter cheers me up and makes me laugh every single morning (I highly recommend subscribing to him -- you can pay, or you can read him for free -- just look for the Borowitz Report). Today he writes about the greatness of that other side. Politicians who are far more savvy and smart than, um, ones who are charging ahead with a wrecking ball. [You doubt this? Consider names such as Jamie Raskin, AOC, Katie Porter, Adam Kinzinger, Liz Warren, Beto O'Rourke, Pete Buttigieg, JB Pritzker, Gretchen Whitmer, Letita James, Raphael Warnock, David Hogg, Chris Murphy, Stacy Abrams, oh I could keep adding! Which political party should be trembling right now -- the one with mostly grumpy old white men who can't stand up to an autocrat, along with their side kick -- screaming Marjorie Taylor Greene, or the one with these sharp as a whistle new generation politicians on the other side?]

No matter what your politics, you have to recognize this truly American strength: our form of governance allows for strong leaders to emerge across the spectrum. We really are a nation of states. And it's too easy to forget that there is a lot of Democrat talent out there -- brilliant talent, that's not hiding in the bushes. Again, don't read this as a propaganda piece -- I'm not pushing an ideology here, but simply pointing out that we do have very smart, very strong people working in support of a constitutional democracy. The headlines don't remind us of it. So I will.

You gotta love a guy like Jamie Raskin (Maryland Congressman), who is quoted as saying --  Given that I was marching at age three, you know I’m not letting any coup-plotting, election-denying, insurrection-supplying autocrat, kleptocrat, plutocrat or theocrat, or any techno-feudalist Silicon Valley broligarch aspiring dictator, turn me around now. I am going to honor and participate every day in this urgent national fight for strong constitutional democracy, personal freedom and social progress. 

It makes me proud.

And, too, it makes me smile.

 

As does the weather: we are starting the climb up. Still in freezing territory. It's going to be a slow climb. But it is a climb!

 

The morning goes quickly. Breakfast, with Ed, during which we discuss how little we know about the future (this is perhaps a positive: it is not a given that we will topple under the weight of what is happening).

Dance participates: she reminds us that tulips are awesome!

And I spend the rest of the morning Zooming with Bee. She makes me appreciate what it means to be a European, let alone Polish right now. You have to feel their pain as our leadership is charmed by Putin. Putin! How utterly stupid can you be!

 

In the afternoon I pick up the kids...

... and yes, if it's Wednesday it must be ice cream day. The weather notwithstanding.

 

All goes well until it's time to fix dinner. The fish didn't defrost, so I reach for eggs, scramble them up, with mushrooms, and a salad, and I call it a meal. What can I say -- you can't be on top of everything in your day. Some things must slide. Though I have to say -- our hens lay fantastically wonderful eggs!

with love...

time to change

Funny how you can love new things, yet hate to change old habits. That's my thought for this morning. Here's what lead me to it:

I get up very early and it is very cold. As in very many degrees below freezing. Perhaps the coldest day of the year. Nonetheless, the wind chills did not hit the magic mark of -30F (-34C), so schools remained open. Still, when I go out to feed the animals at sunrise, I feel the sharp needles of freezing air hit my face. Yep, cold.

And yet, the cardinal is up on the crab, singing away.

I am in a hurry: I have an 8am PT appointment. I'm back with my post knee replacement surgery super hero -- David (the therapist). David guided me through the exercises nearly two years ago and as a result of his expert help, I can now bend that darn knee almost fully (he remains impressed by this!). When my doc said I needed therapy for my other, non-replaced knee, I did not sign up for just anyone -- I wanted David. I had to wait four months for an appointment, but it was worth it! The guy is a walking bank of knowledge on the human body.

But this is not why I am just tickled to pieces by today's visit: sure, I get my knee exercises set up, sure I will do them to postpone any surgical work on my second knee. But while there, I ask him as well if he ever worked with people who have what I have -- occipital neuralgia. (It's when your head nerves are inflamed so you have all sorts of unwelcome head issues.) And he has! Well now, forget the knee (for the moment)! How do I get rid of this incredibly annoying and persistent problem? David tells me -- try the lazy way first: just change your reading/writing habits.

He takes a ball -- the size of a soccer ball -- and has me hold it. It's weighted at ten pounds. That's close to the weight of your head. Heavy, right? You lean it forward and you're putting a lot of pressure on your neck and head muscles, which in turn pinch your nerves. Hence the occipital neuralgia.

It took my hero PT guy to explain how to better position myself for a life without weird head sensations. I felt buoyed! I felt jubilant! Suddenly an unsolvable problem appears to have a fantastically simple  solution! 

Until I come home and try changing my habits. 

It should be simple, really. All I have to do is not bend my head forward (which I do to read and write on my laptop). So, lift the computer, maybe get a separate keyboard for it. Just don't look down.  Easy peasy, right?

Oh god is it hard! It's as if my whole body is yearning for that laptop to be ... on my lap! I want it there, not up high (so that I can keep my head on top of my spine where it belongs). Why couldn't we have evolved to conform to life's new demands (of a lap top on your lap!)? 

I tell Ed that the problem is with sitting on a couch and leaning forward. He considers this. In the evening he suggests rearranging the furniture so that the second lesser couch is against a wall. That way I can prop up a pillow to support my head. The cats hate this new furniture arrangement (they do not like change). The kids wont like it much either (they do not like change) when they see it tomorrow. But I'm giving it a go. It is worth it. (And if you dont want to pinch your nerves or aggravate them, heed David's warning -- keep that head straight, eyes forward, none of this leaning down on your neck!

 

Breakfast is very late. After my PT, I had to wash the car. Normal people do not do this when it is so very cold, but that's exactly why I was at the car wash -- there were no lines. 

And I picked up some treats at Tati's coffee shop and Ed and I have a lovely breakfast that still fits within the parameters of a morning meal. But just barely.

In the afternoon I go off to pick up the kids. Sparrow tells me -- I didn't recognize your car! It's usually so dirty! Hey, blame the salty roads, little guy!

Yes, it's cold. They seem not to notice it. Kids...

We read. Sparrow abandons his pretense of indifference and joins Snowdrop and me on the couch. Snowdrop, as usual, cannot stand not knowing the ending. She peeks. I remind her I don't want to know! She tells me anyway.

Is there anything as great as reading books together with kids? On a freezing day?

And in the evening I once again bring out the leftovers. Chicken, sliced into a salad. And, as I said -- we move around furniture. And pillows for support. Easy fixes... Dont you just wish there were always easy fixes out there for life's intractable problems...

with love...

blast

We wake up to -5F (-21C), only we read that it feels like -14F (-26C) because of the wind. 

I do not rush to get out of bed, let alone go outside to feed the animals.

Instead, we stay upstairs and read, Ed lost in his next machine design, me -- well, picking up the threads of current news stories.

Morning thoughts? I can't help but think that history will look back at this period and it will not look kindly on us. Bad enough that we allowed this (nay, voted for it, so we asked for this!) to take place in our own country, wrecking, destroying, gloating, but it seems we are also awfully good at exporting our smug belligerent attitude of a bullying out of control emperor run amuck, hell bent on spitting fire on (former) friends and ravaged by war, disaster and disease people with whom we share this planet. History will judge us harshly. 

It's a gorgeous day.... to stay inside.

Still, those animals....

I head out.

(This is what I would call a stare-down: Tuxie is afraid of getting near the chicken. The chicken is afraid of getting near anyone. Who will prevail??)

(It even looks cold!)

 

Breakfast -- we should hunker down with oatmeal, but the granola is so good!

And then I do more reading. Yes, about politics, but, too, travel -- these two carry me through the day when I have free time. (Taxes will have to wait -- I haven't the stomach for them today.) And I do have time because the kids are off from school with supervision elsewhere. And it's good reading. Yes, I am properly horrified by the bullying venom coming out of the billionaire's mouth and the hateful speech is generates on his favorite platform, but I will not allow myself to get riled up about it. Making people angry -- that's his agenda, not mine. Instead, I try to stay focused on the facts -- what's being done and with what consequences for whom. Right now, all I can do is stay informed and think about a few what ifs, but not too many. One day at a time.

That's politics for you. My second reading theme is in fact a superb counter to the dismal news. I read about food and travel. And I have a link for you if you are at all planning trips for yourself, for your family! Here it is: 50 tips on better travel. I'm not sure I agree with all of them, but I do find them all to be good food for thought. The author has had (he says) 53 years of travel experience. I've had more (meaning I'm older!) and yet it's never enough. You're always learning what fits your mode, your mindset, what triggers the best reflection and reaction. And lets not forget this -- what makes you happy! [Sometimes I watch tour groups straining to hear the bored words of a guide as they push their way through crowded star attractions and I think -- who in that group is happy? Or, I listen to the rundown of the famous places that must be checked off in cities that do indeed have very many famous places and it strikes me as so insane. Are you having fun yet??]

Italians have a name for a way to get to enjoyment: Slow Food, Slow Travel. I think both need no explanation.

 (at home, my December amaryllis plant decided to spring another bud and deliver more flowers!)

 

 

(looking out the kitchen window: lots of deer passing through)

 

 

In the late afternoon I shuffle Snowdrop from her Shakespeare play rehearsal to her dance class. After the drop off, I find myself close to the grocery store and so I do my shopping for the week. There is something special about filling your cart in the evening hours. The store isn't empty, but it is somehow peaceful. Perhaps after a long day people are not in a hurry. And of course, every last item looks delicious, because you're hungry. 

At home, I reheat leftovers -- a Monday tradition here, at the farmhouse. We add a quilt to the couch, not because the house is cold, but because it is so freezing out there that you feel chilled just thinking about it! I wonder if schools will close tomorrow -- the morning temp is to be -13F (-25C) and that's before factoring in the winds. But you know, further north it will be even colder and hey, after this week, we are moving ever so closer to spring.

Did I ever tell you how much I love spring?

with love...

Sunday

It's cold, but it will be colder, and besides, there we do get some sunshine! And don't forget about the snow! We've got it!

I had two tasks for this day. Both require gobs of time and neither is likely to be finished, but I had to start in on one of them. I chose the one that's a tiny bit more fun: putting together a photo book. (The other? begin unraveling the tax stuff.)

I use Blurb and Book Wright for photo books. It's not intuitive, unless you use both frequently and I don't use them frequently. Getting started is always frustrating and getting to the end is even more frustrating because it always takes longer than you think it should. I oftentimes wont even edit the final product, I am that tired of it. Still, I have a chunk of hours and I cannot devote yet another day to trip reshuffling (although I would like to!). 

First, though, the animals. I tell them that they will have to put up with the winds and the cold for just a couple more days. I truly think we're nearing the end of wintry cold weather. 

But, they stare at me incomprehensibly and demand their food. Fine, go for it.

On Sundays, I try to tidy things around odd corners of the house. And this is the day I water the plants -- here and in the sheep shed. My orchids, which I over-winter there are splendid as always and they bloom for months on end.

Here, the over-wintered plants are variously healthy. Some are crying out for more sunshine. Others are happy to take what they have. (The tulip bulbs are past their bloom, but I like them even in their spent state. So does Dance.)

And now it's breakfast time with Ed and my flowers. They're a little rough around the edges (sort of like Ed!), but I don't mind. 

And I lose myself in the photo book project. 

We almost do not go out this afternoon, but oh, am I glad that in the end we gave ourselves a push to take our skis to our local park. Yes, it's cold, but the sunshine is just splendid. I cannot tell you how many times I tell Ed that this luxury of having a county park nearby is just beyond awesome. 

Back at the farmhouse, I put away my laptop and head for the kitchen. Sunday dinner is back on the calendar. For these guys:

And this is how a whole day passes without too many glances at the news out there. Yes, I felt the gloom with the radio on at meal prep time. Yes, I read opinions about the spineless Congress protecting their skin but ceding their power. About the budget of cuts, and of benefits for those who are doing the cuts. Yes, my blood boiled for just a little. But I let it all simmer and drift away today. It's Sunday: time to regroup and get strength for the week ahead! Right?

Right.

with love...