I'm FREE!!!

So this morning I officially bid a fond farewell to the time capsule, and oh is it a glorious thing! The past week or so has been particularly exasperating, preparing me quite well for my departure. Goodness I can hardly record how many times I had to grit my teeth and remind myself of the dwindling countdown just to keep from becoming guilty of geriatricide. But I am done, packed, out, and ready for a new stage in life!!!!!! More details to come...

my side of the tale...

What a day…
So I had some up and down emotions, because I found the school where I am to begin my student teaching, and it is literally right down the block from Grandma and Grandpa. Which makes me second guess my decision to move out and ponder if God is trying to tell me something. But then I hung out with my new room mates a little bit, and it was so tremendously refreshing. I continue to be so ecstatic and grateful, and I truly do think it will probably be healthy for me to move away.
Then tonight, heehee, this is a fun story. I came home kind of late and greeted Grandpa, but I think Grandma was in the bedroom. So I went up and was putting my things away, when I hear her screeching out and asking him if I’d come home. Then she was asking him something else about me, and of course he didn’t hear. So she repeated her mumbling query and he still couldn’t understand, and I heard her muttering and grumbling about him. By this time I was down the stairs and right behind her, and finally got fed up. I literally shouted “I’M RIGHT HERE WHAT DO YOU WANT WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ASK?!?” And I think she just about crapped her pants. She made some excuse about not knowing if I was home or something, and said that I scared her. But I think I got the point of frustration across, and it was actually quite gratifying. And the look on Grandpa’s face was just priceless. He had this little grin that would have made any suffering worth it. I’ll be sad to leave him alone to her again…but still good?

Upcoming escape...

Oh, poor little Grandpa…
I heard him muttering and grumbling about Grandma some more today, and it just makes me so tickled when he does that. I mean, it’s very sad, but goodness knows he deserves to grouch. The poor guy just tries to be the sacrificing servant that he is, and all he gets is whining from “I don’t know what I want for breakfast…you can’t expect me to be hungry right when I get up in the morning. Soon you’ll be wanting me to eat when I’m still in bed” in the morning to “don’t you want some ice cream” (which means “you’d better get me some ice cream—now) at night, and whatever the Lord has blessed me to escape from in between. Not to mention her recent cold has left her hacking and moaning and groaning. Grandpa gets sick, and he just suffers in silence and gets shakier and swaying. Grandma gets the tiniest bug and it’s “hack! Horck! Haaccchk! Mooan, groooaaan, snarrfle snuff.” I had half a thought today that nobody would blame him if he just bumped her off, but he’s just too nice for that I suppose.
In other news, this all reminds me how glad I am that I’m moving. Of course I feel sad because Grandpa will lose his only little ally (I’ll have to come visit frequently, I am sure) and I’ll lose free groceries and the Food Network, and have more of a commute for student teaching. But being home made me think how delightful it will be to be away from them entirely. And now I have an uplifting hope every time I have to use her shower, as I’m gingerly lifting the shower seat out and then carefully using the claw to pick out the brown stained washcloths strewn about, before stepping onto the germ-infested rubber cloth and brushing the spiders off of the tub wall so I can “clean” myself. Or when I impale my toe on forsaken toothpicks and pills. Or when I come home to stares and interrogations and random comments. I have grown somewhat accustomed to these things by now, but it will nonetheless be an absolute thrill and joy and blessing from the heavens above to escape them. I just keep thinking back to Allie first describing the apartment, and then to my initial visits there. One time I spent the night and we sat around the table chatting and sipping tea, and then I slept on the couch, and I was just so content and at peace with those nice friends and clean space. And I cannot believe that it will be my home. I’ll get my own little gate opener thing, perhaps, and I can bake Allie’s favorite cookies right there in our kitchen, and I can truly come and go as I please. I know there will be plenty of challenges to deal with, still, and the monetary cost will be much greater. And I’ll still need to communicate, and practice responsibility, and clean (well, that’s not a problem) and share space. But oh, I’ll be with wonderful girls! And I’m going to teach in fifth grade! And I won’t be stared at all the time. So I think I am quite pleased :)

Exciting News update!!!!!

Wooooooohoooooooo!!!!!!! Hip hip hurray and oh happy happy day! :) :) :)
So I returned from another cross country meet to the usual routine: Grandma critiquing my laundry load and asking random senseless questions and telling me about the grocery shopping of the day. She really wasn’t all that bad. In fact I got quite a little crack-up as she started telling me about an eighty-year-old lady at her church. She was describing how every time you saw this woman she’d tell the same stories, and how she wore diapers and wouldn’t wear pants and sometimes you could see her slip peeking out from her dress. And this is coming from the woman whose unbuttoned blouse exposes the blessing of a bra which is the only barrier between the world’s view and the sagging octogenarian breasts beneath, as she finishes recounting anecdotes of my youth which I have heard about a dozen times a week….ah, Grandma…but I have new hope, because….
I’m escaping!!! It’s so amazing I find it hard to believe, but I think I have decided. I had my misgivings because, after all, Grandpa sure appreciates me and it’s nice to have a rent-free place with food and laundry and space and coziness. But after weighing those costs against my sanity, relationships, and responsibility-accumulation, I think ultimately leaving won’t be so bad. So here’s the deal:
A dear, wonderful friend who I have known since the sixth grade and been a joy and guide to me throughout my Biola experience, and is finishing her student teaching right now, has been living in a cozy little apartment in La Habra this semester with three other young ladies. However, long story short one of the girls is leaving, which means an open spot will need to be filled. I’ve been to the apartment several times and it’s really great, and I know a bit about the logistics of how things run there (though there will be plenty to arrange still). But I have been invited to join the remaining three, all of which majored in teaching at Biola and the one I’ll be in a room with is going to be student teaching at the same time I am. She also happens to be one of the most genuine, caring, amazing people I’ve ever known. So I get to live with girls—my own age—that don’t hate me and abuse me! With no bloody toenails all over the bathroom floor or grouchy glares perpetually eyeing me or toothpicks on the ground to impale my toes on…oh I am pretty darn thrilled here. I haven’t told her the news, yet, but the more I think about it the more excited I get. It really makes things endurable these days. More details will come I’m sure, but for now I’m heading outta here! Thank you, Allison!!!! :)

She's going a little batty...

So my return to the geriatric ward was actually not too horrible. Grandma (and of course Grandpa!) seem to have genuinely missed having me around and appreciated me. I even had some rather nice chatting time with Grandma and weaseled a little more information out of her about both of her weddings! Since details about Clarence are pretty sparce I was quite thrilled. She mentioned that they should have been married in 1941 and he was almost out of the service, but got called back up after Pearl Harbor. And I guess they had known each other a long time because she worked with his mother. And his army friends took them out for fried chicken dinner...
Grandma was halfway decent, which is always a little worrisome! I showed her the pictures from the wedding and she kept asking if Mom was Daniel, who was David, why was Leslie there...admittedly the pictures were small, but she was getting a little out of it. She also asked if I was baking cookies. When I was sitting next to her.And if I was taking classes at Biola...Hmmm...but hey, she still remembers everyone's birthday and what state Marilyn did for her fifth grade report and what she ate for dinner sixty years ago...so either certain brain faculties become particularly accute, or she's still alright. Or both. Who knows. I press on :)

Still surviving

The fever breaks…after a couple of days getting more and more riled up and fed up with Grandma’s glares and grumps (I even gave her a couple nasty looks), I think I have once again risen out of the ashes and hardened up again. Oh how healthy this must be for my emotional welfare, Heehee. Monday and Tuesday were more of the usual comments… “if we’d known you would be home early, we could have waited to eat.” (I know, actually, that is why I deliberately delayed…not that I get any peace- “what are you eating???”) And then for about the one hundred and seventy-seventh time “it’s too bad you couldn’t live at the school. They really ought to let you stay there.” I told her that I know it’s a shame, I wish it were different too, I do feel kicked out, but that’s just the way it is because of the number of students they have. And then of course she assures me that they’re happy to have me around, glad they could come in. Oh, and what am I doing right now? Why? Not that she’s being nosy…but she does an awfully tremendous job of being nosy when she’s trying not to. Oh brother. And then she keeps picking on Grandpa, how whatever he does just isn’t good enough. I was getting increasingly angry, and was more than happy to hide away at school Wednesday. I came home and to my delight she was off to another church meeting, which is quite a rich blessing from above and a time to sneak in some laundry and baking. But all too soon she was back again, sniffing the granola and apple crisp that I had been working on. “smells like cookies…did one of them get cooked too long? Oh, a glass pan, that needs less cooking time you know. You don’t cook it as long.” And that is when I gave her quite a glower. And I can certainly glower when I’ve got a mind to. It was to prevent me from screaming and whacking her. I told her I know a thing or two about baking, but I don’t think she believes it. Then I had my reward and revenge when I scuttled up to my lair to work and heard her down below sampling the dessert with a grunt of “good.” Hahaha…then she just couldn’t stop saying how angry she was that the debate eclipsed Jeopardy and it didn’t come on later. “I’m mad at them.” And then she had to once again lament that if they’d known I’d be living here, I could have picked the color of the room. I assured her (for the two hundred eighty-eighth time) that I like white quite nicely, and I have adorned things with posters. I also let her know that I was quite set on blankets and things, which is always a terrible concern. And I once again breathed deeply to keep from explosion.
Then today I once more let it go a bit more. It helps that she’s practically falling asleep from their doctors’ visit, but at least she isn’t quite as interrogating and staring. She did question my dinner again, naturally. I asked where they had gone with Keith and Caroline. “Polly’s. But mine wasn’t any good. It was late for me to eat.” So that reminded me that she’s just good old grumbling curmudgeon of a relative, and I can just escape as often as possible and laugh when that is not an option.
The trouble came today when I got an email asking me where I’ll be living next semester for my student teaching placement. Oh dear. I don’t know where I am going to live. I have been surviving this one day at a time but trying to comfort myself with the notion that it won’t last forever…but I can’t avoid figuring it out too long. Where will I be? What will I do? Alas and alack, I suppose eventually I must face it…
And then in the midst of it all comes Grandpa..."what would I do without you?" he asked after I took out the trash barrels at her grumbling urges. And my heart just warms :)

Poor Grandpa...

So my latest endeavor is standing up for the dear old man who I enjoy living with, against the forces of the not so sweet woman who continually attempts to tear him down and turn others against him...her recent efforts seem to be aimed at convincing me he's no good. Like the other day when he was in the shower and she said he should have just waited and stayed in bed because then I could've used the bathroom. I told her he had a right to shower and I was happy to use the other one (well, it's not such a pleasant experience using her shower but I try to avoid looking at my surroundings and fight the feeling that I'm really just getting dirtier)...
Or last night when I was having my dinner ("what are you eating?" she always demands...and I usually drop my fork with a clatter to hide my irritation, then calmly respond with a near-smartass remark like "food" or "dinner"), and she said it wasn't much variety and she could have cooked it better. I always praise Grandpa's cooking and say he does a fine job. This morning she claimed he "thinks I need to eat," to which I responded that of course I do, everyone does. And I'm happy to have his service. So I press on, enduring her glares and refuting the nasty comments, in order to bring the world joy and entertainment through the words of this blog :) Thanks for listening! And for all who can truly understand ;)

New Verdict: late night meetings not healthy…

Well, the above conclusion was drawn after watching the woman in full form tonight. I came home to that rare but joyous dream of Grandma freedom, it being board meeting night. There was Grandpa, happily munching away on my cookies and telling me it was his second or third dessert of the night (oh, grandpa J), and commenting on how he could watch whatever he wanted on TV. Oh, it was nice. And then she came home. Let me tell you, I don’t know what it is but she is loopy! I mean she is acting quite literally drunk, to be perfectly descript. Not quite the bumbling goofy that David and Daniel get, but at least not belligerent. First she does her heaving and sighing and I didn’t dare ask how the meeting went (made that mistake last time). Then she called me Karen and asked me about three times in a row if I had eaten dinner. And what did I have. And did I eat it here. And then she asked if my friends liked my cookies, which is interesting because I didn’t make any cookies. So I iterated this fact, but she still didn’t quite believe it. Then she said my friends must have been disappointed, but I informed her that I hadn’t been hanging out with friends this evening, I actually had class…to which she said that of course she didn’t mean to be nosy. But she does an excellent job of it without meaning to, I must say…and then somehow or other she upset the table and the phone went flying off the couch and landed with a clatter. At which point she sang out “there go the peanuts!” So now it’s just getting kind of funny. I let her know the peanuts were safe, a detail I was quite delighted with myself as I wouldn’t have particularly enjoyed gathering the whole jar up from the already nut-strewn and ant-infested carpet…
And that is the part of the story where Kristin runs away to her lair and gets excited because it is time to start watching special features on the amazing new Sleeping Beauty fiftieth anniversary two-disc platinum edition Disney DVD!!! Hurray Amazon.com!!! Hmm…fiftieth anniversary. But I remember my Daddy saying that Sleeping Beauty was the first movie he watched in a theater. And he can’t be that old…heeheehee. Love you, the stories will just keep coming!

another fun filled evening :)

Damn it, I just need to vent…admittedly she is really getting better in many ways. And I think I’m growing on her. She says cute little things like “there’s our girl” or “we missed you” or “this is your home.” But she is just so utterly grating sometimes. Well, all the time, but now and then the little things just get to me all the more. It’s just a little stressful to be under constant scrutiny, to know that eyes are always upon you when you’re around, and always going through your stuff when you aren’t. Fortunately my upstairs lair is still safe. No prowling there. But my little snack supply is sure to be investigated and if I get something new I “must have bought half the store.” Speaking of snacks, it is rather irritating to try to eat when you know she’ll watch and comment on every bite. I noticed I practically live off nuts and raisins lately because that’s what I can munch furtively or while driving. I mean, they feed me and Grandpa loves to do so, and I can always count on getting plenty. I just have to be prepared to either defend my real choice, give in to theirs, or escape altogether…tonight I was having some delightful Yoplait yogurt, and there she is, staring. Granted, I could have tried to avoid the situation and stick in my loft, but I like to attempt social demeanor. At any rate, she watches me and then comments, “yogurt. Hm.” “yep, I like it.” I cheerily replied. “Sour milk. We used to feed that to the pigs. I smelled the process.” At this point I remarked that at least I wouldn’t have to worry about her eating it, then continued to enjoy my bacteria (and then left the room). But if I want to actually do any real thinking or working, I can’t try to do the social thing, because she’ll be there staring over my shoulder and interjecting stories and comments every half minute. I mean, I’m sure it’s very sweet of her to offer these memories or mentions, but they quite frustrate the flow of concentration. And she still hasn’t quite been convinced that I am capable of doing things. She told me to lock the door before going to bed and I readily agreed, but when it didn’t happen instantly she told Grandpa I hadn’t done it yet and neither had I closed the garage (his usual job), so he’d better do it…good grief. Oh well. Just another day in the time capsule J Oh dear, she comes squeaking back again…

Supermarket sweep!

So actually and fortunately, there is not too terribly much to report lately...but perhaps that is simply because I haven't been around all that much. I generally go to school early morning for work or to observations-- which Grandma eagerly wants me to be mistaken for a high schooler at. Every single time I mention it, her response is the same. "did they take you for one of the kids yet?" "I keep saying they'll think she's a student there." "I'll bet they think you just go there." Despite how many times I try to explain that much to even my surprise I've been dressing and acting mature enough that teachers and people know me and I haven't been asked for a hall pass or anything, she gets such a kick out of thinking I am so young. Oh well...
But today I decided to try and rescue my Auntie from driving all the way out and back to shop, and finally talked Grandma into letting me take her to the grocery store (only took a month and a half for her to give in!) And then she kept acting like it was her great idea all along, saying how nice it would be that Marilyn wouldn't have to come out, if we forget something I can pick it up. Not that I haven't been saying this for weeks. Whatever. It was actually not too bad, though. I was a bit nervous that I'd be having tales of adventure and woe. But we managed to get in the car and figure out the seatbelt (eventually). The scooter cart at Stater Bros was a bit frightening. I got it out (that was fun!) to the car and got her in it (the grabbing by the pants seat trick works wonderfully! It was awesome!), but she was having quite a tough time maneuvering at first. She almost hit a couple of cars, then scooted around and tried to go in the exit so she had to back up and almost rolled off back into the parking lot. We finally got into the store and only had a few near collisions with people and things. But we did a pretty good job on the groceries, moved through efficiently enough, and didn't even spend too much which always makes her happy. She kept insisting we'd need another cart to take it to the car but we managed. And now she doesn't have to go out at night, which she kept complaining about...and maybe dear Auntie will get a weekend...and I'll go bake for grandpa and everyone will be a winner. And that is how I earn my keep :) :)

Cookie conundrums

September 24
Oh, that silly silly Grandma…she has been acting quite interestingly lately. I mean, I think it is her sort of way of expressing affection perhaps, but it is quite an intriguing and irritating brand of it. Maybe she is enjoying babying and mothering me, but it manifests itself in constant harping. I don’t know how many times she says “Oh yes, you’re a big girl, you know how to take care of yourself.” Yet every other minute she is proving that she doubts this very much, telling me what a long day I had, asking if I’ve washed myself, congratulating me on eating breakfast, commending me for taking my vitamins. I mean she seems happy enough about it, calling me “hon” or “that’s my girl.” It just gets old fast. Like six weeks ago. Six weeks, look at that. I have survived one and a half months with them!
And I think she’s also quite jealous of Grandpa. Last night I was starting to make Allie her favorite cookies and Grandma came in to tell me I didn’t have to, that it was getting late and I didn’t need to make anything. So I told her I’d stop if she wanted me to, but then she comes back with, “well, I don’t mean to be bossy, I just don’t want you to think you have to…” for someone who doesn’t mean to be bossy, she does it quite well, I must say. When I explained that I enjoy baking and was doing a simple recipe, she yielded. But only after telling me some of my cookies have been burning. And that I shouldn’t use the top oven. And then she proceeded to hobble in every five minutes to comment on my process. Finally, at the end, she came to inspect. Now let me add that this was a recipe I made a week ago for Allison, leaving just a few extras which were gobbled up quite quickly and left Grandma asking every day if I was making more. So this time I made a double batch. This turned out to be a very wise move. She eyed them greedily as soon as they were cooling on the counter. Then she reached out a shaky gnarled claw and snatched up a cookie, rapidly shoving it into her orifice and sprinkling the ground with crumbs in the process. She growled voraciously and grabbed another, then another and another. Apparently these were satisfactory. I commented how it was good that I made extras, and she said, “oh, that’s all I need…” Then took another. She was quite concerned today about whether I would be taking all of them, and made sure I promised to leave plenty for them. Goodness gracious.
So I suppose I’ll try to look at it as her way of care and attention. I must say I prefer Grandpa’s methods, but whatever. I’ll live either way…

A glass half full :)

September 22, 2008
A Happier Note…

So I am doing my best to focus on the positive side of things, despite the extant moments of Grandma comments that drive the inside head voice to profane “what the hell…” (i.e. when she asked if I was going for a run because I pulled a sweater over my head, hmm). But tonight I feel quite pleasant. For one thing, right now I have “Two and a Half Men” on. In my upstairs lair! For the first time in my life there is a television in my room and I can watch whatever I want. I tried plugging in the bunny ears last night and when I turned it on, it just magically worked and had glorious reception! It was quite the excitement. So that is a joy in my life.
And then there is Grandpa. I enjoy his little grin and his flat-out cuteness. Tonight I came home and as I walked by the first door I spied him munching one of my snickerdoodles. Then I let him fix me up some supper and he helped me zap up some fish and baked potato. I accepted the offer for cottage cheese and canned peaches, too. Daddy warned me that would be a specialty of the house, and it’s one of the things I’m learning to love. Actually, I can’t stand it but I also can’t bear to turn him down when he’s acting the part of garcon. I genuinely do like sliced peaches. And I’ve discovered I appreciate cottage cheese, as well. Just not the two in conjunction. But as long as I keep them separate somehow I’m happy to oblige the sweet old man. Then while I was setting it all up he reached in for some more cookies, muttering “oh I’ll have one or two more of these…hey I might as well have three and finish off this layer here…” And then he went off to eat them and Grandma was probably jealous. But it makes me smile. Good old Grandpa. And good old Aunties who let me escape every once in awhile. Much love…

Apples and ants...

September 17, 2008

Well, thanks to the marvelous blessing of Auntie Marilyn’s splendid little thumb drive, here I sit in the glorious privacy of my upstairs lair typing away, impervious to the glares of the woman beneath. Heehee, truly it isn’t as bad as the dramatized accounts told here make it out to be. But it’s fun to have a little outlet. The latest conclusion: there is no way I can possibly be right. It’s just the fact of the matter. You just don’t disagree. Like this morning, when she made out a random grocery list of about three items which weren’t even needed…and she told me we already had apples. I calmly and kindly attempted to point out that, in fact, there were no apples in the refrigerator. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I looked. There aren’t any.” Squeak, squeak, squeak. Lo and behold, no apples. By the way, I heard today that the apple costs have gone up due to fuel costs! Because they are transported. But that’s off topic…Actually, she mentioned to Linda that she still thinks of me as a little kid since she “never got to see me grow up.” That sure explains a lot. “Did you take your shower? Take your vitamins. You know how to do laundry?” At any rate, the other thing I have started up a bit is trying to make it slightly evident (but not too much) that I do in fact hear the things she gripes when she yells at Grandpa. “What’s she doing in the kitchen? What’s she doing? WHAT IS SHE DOING OUT THERE?!” “You know Grandma, you could ask me, I’m just fixing my lunch for tomorrow…” Oh my…and then there’s the ants. That’s probably one of the most frustrating things. Because I just don’t really care for the little buggers, but no one else seems to mind them. Grandma’s response is sometimes “well, they don’t eat much…” Uh, I’m not so much concerned for the welfare of the ants as the fact that I can’t sit at the dinner table because they are swarming around the food goobers left on Grandma’s placemat. Or I get ready to stretch on the floor and they are forming a trail around a rogue peanut. Whatever…
But nothing overly significant or out of the ordinary to report. Interrogation, glaring, whining…it’s old hat in life out here! But then I see Grandpa’s little smile and it sweetens the pill…
I’m trying to figure out something about making these blog thingies more commentable, but I don’t know exactly…any tips, let me know! Thanks :) I love you
Kristin

Venti Venting...hurray for blogs :)

September 14, 2008

Goodness gracious, what a wonderful idea this blogging business is going to be, I think. Not a day has passed since Davey suggested it and I still don’t even know how to get it started, but already my head is so brimming with junk that I’ve just got to get it out! I am normally not much of a journal person, much less in a form that deals with technology, but I have a feeling this could be a positive form to vent my endless stories. That way all of the ornery comments and cussing that I do in the “inside the head” voice can escape in a gentle hissing flow of steam rather than growing pent up and eventually exploding.
And in fact the adventures began just as soon as I got home from Auntie Marilyn’s last night. I tiptoed in just as silently as I could, but sure enough, “creak. Creak. Creak.” Out she rolls, with comments that I was actually home and that Marilyn should have said I was getting ready to leave, not on my way. She then got all flustered about the back light not going on, and when I tried to let her know that a light was on but I’d turned it off, she simply insisted that there was a light not working and I couldn’t possibly be right. So to show me she creaked out through the kitchen and then expressed her surprise that the light was turned off. Oh brother. She still didn’t believe that’s what I’d been talking about, though. Whatever.
Then today I decided to discover a new method of coping: stubbornness. Now this is a practice not normally in my personality, but certain things can drive it out of me. Or certain people. People like Wilma Schmidt. This morning was rather a minor case, but acting insistent felt quite liberating. It was breakfast time and when Grandpa offered me a ham omelet I decided I just wanted to have cereal and a banana. I know he loves to make me things and so I do normally let him cook for me, but I truly was just in more of a cereal mood than a pig and chicken embryo mood, so he said I could have what I wanted. Of course, Grandma decided an omelet sounded good and spoke up that she’d have one. I relayed the message to him after she angrily shouted it out, and he cutely muttered that he could never understand her because she mumbles so much. Heehee, I was happy to be an outlet for his frustrations and tried to encourage him, though this was tricky since I have to yell for him to hear and she’ll pick up on the slightest thing. At any rate, though, I happily had my cereal, and for whatever reason she just fixated on this omelet thing. She was just obsessed, I don’t get it. She kept on commenting as she slurped and dribbled away, remarking on how good it was and how glad she was that she had it. She told me I “sure missed out.” I finally just told her I was happy for her, that I was in a boring breakfast mood, to which she heartily agreed. But ha. I had my cereal, and nobody stopped me. I was rather triumphant.
Then I got to go work all day, so that was nice. Of course I get home and fix my dinner, and there she is. Staring. Just staring. I smiled rather exaggeratedly back at her. And she stared. I sat as far away as possible. And she stared. Then she asked if I’d ever had a hair cut. Goodness. Oh well, this is quite fun to let it out. And hopefully others can be entertained, enlightened, and encouraged. I love you all J Till next time.