It's a Cliffhanger

Here it is. The last day before we leave. By the way, that really cool drawing is on the white board in our kitchen. That is where we post all kinds of things like Bible memory and such. The kids have been keeping a daily countdown for our trip. There were so many things to do today, of course. The Lord was gracious to keep me very busy so I didn't have time to worry about flying over the ocean (my one great fear) or being sad about leaving my children for five days when little Elisabeth just started walking.

We began the day watching our little friends while their mama went to the doctor. With help I finished packing, stocked up on groceries, washed laundry, searched for missing flip flops, cut Allen's hair, and washed my own. The weather was gorgeous here-Amen- and I was even able to get in a walk. In a final revolt against all the to do's that have been haunting me, I burned my to do list.

Oh, and by the way at 7:47 P.M. I finally got my passport! Thank you to all who were praying. You will be in awe at the way God worked all the details out. All the "in betweens" are truly unbelievable, except that I was here and I know it happened for real. It is getting late and I need to get up at 2 am so I will fill you in when I return but...for all those inquiring minds...I will give you the short version now.

At this point I want to explain that 10 days ago, I gave the whole thing to God. I was completely frustrated and beginning to wonder if He wanted me to go at all. I asked Him to make it happen if I was to go and to completely stop it if I was to stay. From that point on, everything that happened was completely out of my doing except for making phone calls to get information. Every step was made by someone else...all people I have never met.

For a week our congressman's entire office staff have been hard at work trying to get my passport. Our local passport representative, myself and Congressman Bartlett's Executive Assistant (Ashley) were all promised by the National Passport Office that it was being put in next day delivery Monday morning. Guess what she lied. When we called Mildred at the National office to confirm yesterday late afternoon...she had left for the day and it was sitting on her desk! The lady who answered the phone and was on the receiving end of my stunned reaction, promised she would put it in Fed Ex next day delivery before she left for the day. I asked for the tracking number and she said she couldn't give it to me until she sent it but that I could check it on the Fed Ex website and search by my last name. (I was very skeptical by this point -but what could I do but believe her?)

My new friend, Cindy, called from the local passport office to check on progress and I shared with her the happenings of the day. She was stunned, as well, at the audacity of it all. She recommended calling the phone bank in DC and have someone check the computer records for the tracking number to determine if it was actually shipped. A call at 6:00 pm showed no tracking number was entered in the computer. The very sweet, I am not joking, lady on the other end recommended calling back later to see if it was there. I spent an hour and a half on hold later in the evening only to finally hang up just before 10 when the phone lines were closed for the night.

This morning at 8:00 AM we spent another 45 minutes on hold to talk to yet another employee at the National Passport Office who gets paid to know nothing and do nothing all day. She said there was no tracking number but "it" said that my passport was finished at 6 something last night. I told her that wasn't really much of an answer. The next few minutes were spent telling her what I thought of the business practices of her agency.

Oh, did I forget to mention that Ashley (remember the Congressman's Assistant) had a back up plan. War was on and they weren't waiting for answers anymore. She had personally spent hours on the phone only to be hung up on and transferred all over the place never to be connected to the person she wanted to talk to. She had personally spent her Saturday working on it. She had personally been lied to and pushed around as much as me and she was ready to put her plan into action. An intern was about to learn the ins and outs of the passport process.

Ruben was sent from the House of Representatives to the National Office to personally pick up my passport. He then delivered it to Barbara, one of the Mr. Bartlett's employees in the DC office who lives in our town. After the last vote of the day, she drove it to the local office where with butterflies in my stomach we met. I was shaking when at last I held the little blue book in my hands. We all cheered and the kids expressed their disappointment at not meeting Mr. Bartlett. Then for the next half hour people oohed and ahhed while passing it around the Suburban as if Jesus himself had handed it over. Now, I only had less than 12 hours left to worry about this flying stuff. And that is the SHORT version. And all God's people said, "AMEN!"

So, here we are.

The bags are packed.

My passport's arrived.

I'm off to St. Kitt's with my sweetie Pie!

Bon Voyage! C.P.

A Funny Thing Happened While I Was Waiting For the Repairman

Last Tuesday, I was expecting the washer repairman. As I was putting make up on the kids said there was someone here for me. I went to the door and noticed a Sears truck in the driveway. I thought this was odd since the repairman I was waiting on was from A&E Appliance. There were two men who barely spoke English standing on the porch. One of them said that he had a delivery from Sears.

I said, "You have the wrong house."

He looked at his clipboard and said, "Is this ---- ------- Road?"

Note that to my left, next to the front door is a big plaque with our address on it. He looked confused but not deterred from his mission.

I said, "Yes, but you have the wrong address. We aren't expecting any deliveries."

Brianna was standing behind me and she said, "Um, Mom, he's right it is for us."

It occured to me that Allen had asked me to make sure I was home on Tuesday to sign for a package he was expecting. He often has stuff for his customers shipped here.

So, now that we realized it wasn't a language barrier problem we needed to move forward. I said to the bewildered man, "Um, I am sorry but apparently you did have the right house and it is for us. It must be a suprise from my husband."

Now that we had that all clear he smiled, looking relieved that he wouldn't have to track down the recipient of his delivery. He nodded, and then asked, "Where do you want it?"

I paused for a moment trying to decide where it should go when it dawned on me that I didn't even know what "it" was! I am sure he thought I was insane by now so I had nothing to lose when I looked at him with the straightest face I could manage and said, "Ummm...what is it?"

He was not going to be moved. With an equally straight face he looked at his clipboard again and then back to me, "It's a stove."

Can I pause to cause you to think of any other place one might put a stove other than the kitchen? He might have thought I was a nut but at least I know where we keep the stoves.

To keep from busting out laughing, I instead changed topics and asked him if they would be taking the old one. He answered, "No." Then checked the clipboard. Then said, "Yes."

I led him to the kitchen where he and his buddy lifted and removed the old one. Revolting, is the only word to describe the amount of grime that had accumulated on the 30 year old floor under that stove since we moved here 7 years ago. I was over my initial shock though and moved with lightening speed to sweep and clean the floor before they returned from their truck.

Now that I had my bearings, my thoughts were racing at a million miles a minute. I'd been cooking on that old stove for so long. Cursing it's existence as I put out each meal. Begging for a new one each time canning season came. Praying for God to remove that curse each time we had company in and the oven refused to heat up properly. Now in mere moments, at my fingertips I would have a working oven and 4 level and working burners right at my fingertips and all in beautiful stainless steel. My heart was overflowing with love for Sears, Kenmore and my dear husband.

The next sentence was like a blow to my heart. "We can't plug it in."

"What do you mean you can't plug it in?" I was the baffled one with my mouth hanging open now. "It's easy. Watch and I will show you," I said helpfully. He shook his head no. "Can't you fit back there? I will do it for you."

"No," my Mexican friend said as he continued to shake his head. "It is hard wired. We can't do it." He then proceeded to hand me the phone so his manager could explain that they don't know how to do that and they will have someone return in 2 weeks to hook it up!

No peanut butter and jelly in the house and here I was stuck at home waiting for the repairman, no way to cook, 7 hungry children and my sister from Italy due that afternoon. Allen was my only way to make a connection between electricity and this divine invention and he was out of town!

God giveth and God taketh away, eh?

Don't Hide Your Sister's Unmentionables in Pa's Tool Chest

As I mentioned a few weeks ago...my washer is not working. Our repairman has been avoiding us like the plaque and needless to say...laundry is backed up even more than usual. One of the things I like about my machine is the hand wash cycle. Since there is no agitator we can wash anything in there and not worry about it being damaged. This includes our most delicate garments like hand wash only Victoria's Secret underwire bras.

Our delightful neighbor has given us the use of her machine until ours is up and running again. However, she doesn't have this great feature. We are not complaining mind you...but some things have been thrown by the wayside and forgotten about...like bras.

The night before last one of my daughters complained about the lack of clean undergarments and so at 11:00 p.m. there was a trip to the dirty laundry pile to hand wash for the next day. In order to hurry the drying process we hung the pink unmentionable on a coat hanger right above the wood stove. Yesterday morning, I told Brianna it was there but she looked and looked and swore it wasn't. As is often the case in our house, we all got busy and it was forgotten about.

Until this morning. When Allen went to stock the wood stove. He saw something hanging out of the drawer of his tool chest. What do you suppose it was? You guessed it! A hot pink bra.

A jury of nine uncovered the culprit at breakfast. Of course, you'll understand that the rest of the meal included a lot of discussion about things you don't do with your sister's undergarments.

We Don't Water the Plants With Coffee

I often take a cup of water to bed with me. In the morning if there is anything left I pour if in my potted plants. I often forget to get out the watering can and tend to the plants. It is not unusual for them to be drooping over. This little bit of water is all that stands between them and the fate many of my houseplants have suffered before them. The girls have caught on to this and when clearing the table they will water the plants with what is left in glasses.

While I was putting my makeup on the other day, Nathaniel came in to ask me a question. He was holding a coffe cup in his hand. I asked him why he was holding a cup of coffee in the bathroom. He doesn't even drink coffee. He said Pa hadn't finished his and so he watered my Palm tree with it. I wasn't sure I'd heard him right so I asked him again. Sure enough, there was nothing wrong with my hearing. He said, "I already told you. Pa didn't finish his coffee so I watered your palm tree with it."

Hmmm. Would you like sugar or cream with that?

The Verdict is Still Out

I mentioned a while ago that my passport has not arrived yet. Today it still is no where to be found despite the fact that I filed the paperwork and paid a hefty fee to expedite it on February 18th. Expediting was supposed to be a guarantee that it would be here by March 6th. Hello?? Define expedite, please.

I have been in constant contact with our helpful and oh so trusting local passport official, Cindy. She keeps saying, " That shouldn't be. Call the National office in D.C." Cindy actually said to me, "Oh, don't worry honey. They won't let you miss your trip?" She really believes that all those underworked and over paid government workers care whether or not I miss my trip because they misplaced my paper work!

So, I have spent several hours over the course of 4 very unhelpful phone calls finding out nothing. Each person has given me a completely different story without actually telling me anything. They have assured me that they would indeed refund my expedite fees. That should go a long way in bribing the passports officials to let me into St. Kitts and back into the U.S. don't you think?

The last call on Friday ended with Michael telling me to schedule an appointment to go to D .C. and track it down. I was then transferred to the automated scheduling center where I was informed they were completely booked up until March 24th. (Did I mention we leave on April first?). So, four times I listened to 15 minutes of automated beaurocaracy only to be disconnected before I could complete the process of scheduling an appointment.

My mom decided to intervene and called her friend who also happens to be our local congressman. He assured mom that his office would get on it and it would be squared away immediately. His assistant was going to call me right away to get the necessary information. No one ever called.

Dad asked me last night if they had reached me and I said no. Mom said she was going to call again today. Guess what...no word from mom or the Congressman's office. Allen sent a text to mom to get a status report who said the lady in charge was out sick today.

In the meantime I called Cindy dear who in turn called D.C. The gentleman she spoke to assured her that he was going to personally track down my application, walk it through the channels and overnight it to me. She ended the conversation saying that if it didn't come by Friday at noon, call her again. Hmmm...

So, in case you thought you missed it...don't worry-voting is still open. Go to the side bar on the right to get your vote in today. Will my passport arrive in time?

Bible 101

Last night Aedan (5) and Samuel (3) were taking their bath. They love to play make believe. Usually they are trains or they play "Mama and Pa". For those of you who aren't in the know, that translates to what we called "house" 30 years ago. We watched "The Ten Commandments" Friday night and I think they were feeling more spiritual than usual. Aedan was pretending to be God and Samuel was the Holy Spirit. Lest you think they are heathens, Jesus was played by Nathaniel, who was showering in our bathroom. So, apparently, some trouble broke out between the younger boys and Aedan was overheard shouting, "Stop splashing water on the floor HOLY SPIRIT!" A little Bible know how goes a long way, eh?

Can I Help You With Anything Else?

One of the big obstacles to our trip to St. Kitts was that I had to get a passport in a rather short bit of time. I absolutely dread dealing with government offices for any purpose and this was no exception. Not to mention that it can take up to three months to get a passport processed because of the in depth security checks that are necessary these days. I could have gone to D.C. and had it done in one day but my fear of driving in D.C. is even greater than my fear of government bureaucracy. So as soon as we found out we were going I made an appointment at the local acceptance office. Allen knocked off work half a day early to go with me. I filled in the abundance of paperwork and gathered documents.

We met the most helpful and efficient government worker named Cindy. She took my picture and checked my forms. Problem number one was that what I thought was my birth certificate all these years was merely a birth registration notice. She assured me it would be fine and gave me explicit instructions to go across town to the birth certificate office, get my actual birth certificate and come back. No big deal she said.

True to her word, it was no big deal. I walked in got my birth certificate and Elisabeth's while I was at it. I was back in Cindy's office in no time. She even got Allen's renewal all squared away and told us just what to do to file it and such and how to mail it. (You can't renew a passport locally just file for a new one.) She told me how to go on line and check to make sure it was received and checked in and such. She was so nice and so helpful. I trusted her completely when she said it would definitely be here no later than March 6th. I felt foolish for worrying about it so much. The whole process cost $340 (including the cost of two birth certificates) and took less than one hour (even with running all the way across town). I left with a new confidence in our governement and bureaucratic offices.

I was further encouraged when Allen's passport came in less than two weeks later. There is so much time before we leave and his came so fast that undoubtedly mine will be here in time. Boy was I fooled. One week passed after that and then another. March 6th has come and gone and still no passport.

Yesterday, I finally broke down and called the passport office to see what was up. I got the voice mail of my buddy, Cindy. She called me back and gave me a number and said call this number right now and ask them the status.

Well, here it is folks. The reason for my anxiety with government offices. My phone call went just like this...I swear you can't make this stuff up.

First off, I was on hold for at least 15 or 20 minutes-guess I shouldn't have called on my cell phone, huh?

A lady finally comes on the line and asks how she can help me. I told her my problem. She asked me a boat load of questions and made me promise to hand over Elisabeth as payment for bothering her by asking her to do her job.

Then she pulled up my record and said, "Your application is in progress."

I asked her, "What does that mean?"

She said, "It doesn't tell me."

I said, "Well, will it be done before April 1st when we have to leave?"

She said, "It doesn't tell me."

I said, "Is there some kind of problem?"

Bingo! She said, "It doesn't tell me."

So apparently, the only thing that she could tell me was my name, birthdate, date of travel, address and social security number-all of which I already knew!

Here's the kicker. She actually had the nerve to say, "Is there anything else I can help you with?" just like she had actually helped me at all!

So I ask you, will my passport actually get here in time? You can take the poll on the side bar to get your vote in. The lucky winner will get an all expense paid trip for 5 days and 5 nights to St. kitts with a very cute engineer. Shucks, I am feeling really generous. I will even throw in one very nice evening gown and 5 days worth of new clothes and shoes.

Lessons From the Laundromat

Sunday was 75 degrees here in Maryland. I love the spring weather and would have loved to been outdoors with the kids.

My husband and I are cultivating a habit of spending Sunday afternoon reading the Bible together. I would have loved to do that.

The whole daylight savings time things left me short on sleep and a nap would have been great too.

But no. I spent 4 hours of my Sunday afternoon at the laundromat since my beloved washer decided to give up the ghost. (More on that another time.)

I was shocked at the sheer expense of washing and drying just 7 loads of laundry. $40 in quarters. For that price it should have gone in one machine and come out washed, dried, fluffed, ironed and folded.

Another shocker was the people coming and going. We intentionally opened the phone book and picked a place in a "good" part of town. Yet, my husband had to remind me to not leave my coach bag sitting unattended. The lady at the drier next to me had some very colorful language, too. Although, I warned her before she put her quarter in that machine didn't work, so she had only herself to blame when she lost her money.

To add insult to injury a troop of girl scouts set up a table outside the door and had the nerve to stand there selling cookies. I showed great will power and didn't buy one box. In fact, I out lasted them. They closed up shop and left before my denim was dry.

$40, 4 hours, and 7 loads of laundry later I am a much wiser person. I learned quite a few lessons from the laundromat.

*My whites, that I take such pride in, aren't as white as I thought. When I was growing up it was ingrained in me by my mother and grandmother that your worth as a home maker all boils down to just one thing-how whites your whites really are. Ihave taken great pride in keeping mine sparkling white or at least knowing when to throw all the socks and underwear away and buy new ones. Standing under those flourescent lights matching and folding socks I discovered they are all yellow and gray. It was just like the revelation of looking in one of those lighted make up mirrors so popular in the 70's and 80's!

*The adorable grinch boxer shorts Sam gave Allen for Christmas aren't really all that adorable when you are folding them in front of strangers.

*Don't drink an entire diet snapple while waiting for the wash cycle. Only one word can be used when referring to the rest room -Revolting.

*Be sure it's your dryer before you start folding a strange man's under things.

*Don't take an engineer with you. They ask annoying questions like "Would the jeans dry quicker if we divide them into several machines?" and "How about if we throw these reds in with those light things so that we don't have to put money in two machines?" Oh, and everything an engineer folds looks like wadded up paper towels.

*And probably the most important thing of all is this. Tall or short. Rich or poor. Lost or Saved. Man or woman. Republican or Democrat. In the end we all have one thing in common. Eventually, we all have to wash our dirty underwear.

Four hours; Seven loads of laundry; Forty dollars; Lessons learned; Priceless?

My Beautiful Little Face

My three year old, Samuel, is allergic to peanut butter and chocolate. This is a shame since the only two foods he really likes are chocolate milk and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Among other things he has a tendency to become asthmatic. As someone who suffers from allergies and asthma I understand the importance of limiting his contact with such things.We carry his epipen with us and we are training him to discern what he is eating. I have been successful to some degree. He has no trouble at all not eating candy or other chocolate and nut containing things-just giving up his milk.

After a lot of hemming and hawing I've persuaded him that a sandwich made with jelly is just as good. When offered food by someone other than family, regardless of what they are serving, he is very quick to speak up and say, "Just jelly for me please. Peanut butter gives me a rash."

However, he still indulges in chocolate soy milk once in a while. (Here you should translate...on the rare occassion that I have been to the grocery store and stocked the fridge). I can always tell when he has had chocolate milk because he gets a red bubbly kind of rash under his nose, around his mouth and over his chin.

Well, miracles do happen. The week before last I went to the grocery store. Samuel went on a two day milk drinking frenzy. A day or two later I was giving him a hug and saw that his face was again spotted.

I looked at him and said, "Samuel, you need to stop drinking chocolate milk. Couldn't you try drinking white milk for Mama?"

He said, "Mama, I like chocolate milk."

I looked back at him and said, "Samuel, I know you like chocolate milk but look at your beautiful little face!"

In total seriousness he looked back at me and said the sweetest little voice, "Mama, I can't see my beautiful little face."

Spring has come to the hundred acre wood!

I love the spring time. I love seeing flowers poke their little heads up in the beds. I love being outdoors working, reading and playing. I love hanging laundry on the clothesline. I LOVE the seasons when I can be in the fresh air best of all. And I know spring is not far away. The signs are all there.

There is a pile of flip flops by the front door.

I painted my toe nails this morning.

The kids are playing box car children in the back yard.

Our Saturday projects have moved from sanding dry wall in the basement to pouring concrete and planting blueberries in the yard.

Peanut butter and banana sandwiches

Baths after dinner are a matter of necessity not just a way to entertain the children until bed time.

The little ones spent all afternoon having wagon rides around the yard.

Open windows

Samuel is content to sit on the parked tractor for an hour at a time watching his Pa build stuff in the yard.

The trail of dirt from the front door to the bathroom and kitchen

Sheets strung over trees in the yard to make forts, tents and houses

My kitchen window is quickly growing a collection of dried blooms from the fall and spring clover that my little guys bring to me

The sound of laughter coming in my kitchen window as kids discover they can swing higher than they could last fall

Talk of summer tomatoes and corn at dinner

The sound of wind chimes as the breeze blows

The evening shadows on the walls as I hear the cars pass our house heading home for the evening

Neighbors shouting hello out their car windows as the pass by

Afternoon walks with the baby in her buggy through our neighborhood

I hope you all are enjoying the blessings of some spring weather!

This is what happened when we put the hat on

Auntie Dawn went shopping and sent a box of adorable clothes for our little princess. My favorite was a satin floral with a matching hat and pantaloons. Elisabeth was playing happy as pie until someone walked by and put the beret on her head. It was so funny when she flung herself face down on the floor and started screaming that I couldn't resist grabbing my camera. Not a great moment in child training history but one to go down as a scrapbooking moment!

Curly Top

My house is filled with motion and sound. I don't think in an unpleasant or chaotic way...just the result of 9 people living in 2400 square foot together 24/7.

Even during the night you can hear constant movement and motion. Some of our children toss and turn a lot. Others talk in their sleep. Some even walk in their sleep.

There is always sound and movement. Sometimes I listen to it going on around me and just laugh at the sheer humor in what's being said or done...other times I laugh in a desperate attempt to not cry. Like this last weekend.

Saturday we had two little girls with us for the day. I was shocked at the change they brought to our humble abode. Wow! They never sat still, never stopped complaining, whining talking asking...you name it.

The dynamics were exhausting. Within minutes of their arrival several rooms were trashed in a way I didn't think possible. They argued and bickered. And the only food they seem to like is hot chocolate and strawberries-which are hard to come by in February in Maryland.

By the time they left my usually unshakeable husband was asking me where I had put the child training books.

We had lunch together with the same friends after worship on Sunday. All the way home my little guys were asking when the girls could come for another weekend. Their father tells me the girls, too, had the time of their life. It was so neat to have two little girls to brush and dress up for the day, but I had to spend Sunday afternoon soaking in the tub.

My head is still spinning from it. All week I've been trying to gather my thoughts into a cohesive enough thought to put together a post but each time I get a quiet moment I end up thinking again about how exhausting it all was. I thank God for good child training books so that I can enjoy the days with my little ones here at home.

And speaking of enjoying the days...I was thinking of all the little bits of things going on around here this week. I can't help comparing all that commotion with the normal calm spirit of my kids. When people come to my home for the first time I expect it will be wild, noisy, chaos with so many children under one roof. In fact it is the exact opposite. Our house is usually a rather calm and orderly place.

Aedan is our hyper fellow and even he doesn't hold a candle to our little visitors this weekend. And speaking of Aedan he is such an interesting little fellow. At 5 years old he has round little cheeks, pudgy hands and a head full of blond curls. One side of him is wild and full of energy. He used to get up in the middle of dinner just to walk around the table for no apparent reason. And you should see him break out in song and dance.

On the other hand he is the calmest kid I've ever met. I was washing dishes yesterday morning and he reached under the sink to throw something in the recyle bin and closed the door. I went back to washing dishes and we chit chatted about something for a minute or two. Then I told him to go finish his chores. And he said in the sweetest little voice you can imagine, "um excuse me mama, but could I get my fingers out first?" I looked down to see what he was talking about. I quickly realized that the whole time we'd been talking I was leaning on the cupboard door as I washed the dishes and there were his little fingers stuck in the door! The child didn't scream, whine, complain or cry. I can't help but compare his calmness with the bedlam of our little friends on Saturday.

Of course, maybe the reason he is so calm is that he was baby number five. By the time he came along things were so wild and out of control that he just got used to crazy stuff happening and so things don't faze him like they would kids from smaller families. As a matter of fact, maybe our house is crazy and we just don't realize it because we're all used to the chaos.

For example. I was cooking Christmas dinner and left Brianna (13) in the kitchen to keep an eye on things and went down the hall. You would assume a few things like 1)she would notice what was happening 5 feet from where she was sitting 2)somebody would smell the smoke 3)not much could happen in the time it takes to walk from one end of the house to the other. As I was saying, you could assume some things-but you would be wrong. From the kitchen I hear Aedan was asking if anyone knew that the stove was on fire just as if he was asking about the weather. Brianna was sitting at the island reading a magazine as if nothing was happening. Kaitlin happened along from no where and saw what was going on and at least reached into the freezer for a box of baking soda. We dumped it on the stove and everyone carried on a conversation as if nothing had happened. Wouldn't you think someone would have yelled fire or something?

So Aedan is calm and obviously more observant than his big sister.

This week in school we finished the life of Joseph and started the life of Moses. As an introduction I explained that Joseph brought the Hebrew people into Egypt and that God had chosen Moses to lead them back out into the promised land. Aedan looked up at me and said "Is that the one with milk and honey?"

Since I seem to be on the topic of Aedan, he showed me a little lesson this week. I was in the kitchen working and Allen was sitting at the kitchen table doing something. Aedan walks in and says, "Mama is God a girl or a boy?" I went on to explain that no one really knows but I think God is a boy because when he created Adam he said he would make man in his image and Adam was a boy. Then I explained that God is the head and he tells us that men should be the head of the church and the head of the family. Aedan says Ok and starts to walk away. Now Allen speaks up and says, "It's God the father." Some times the simplest answers are the hardest for us to see.