My parents came up to visit me this weekend.
Wait, let me rephrase that...My parents came up to the mountains because apples are in season and they wanted to hit the orchard. I told them that I would be mad if they came halfway to Tech and didn't even bother to stop in.
So they came for the night and brought me apples. Just over 1/2 a bushel. My future holds many apple pies, apple cake, apple sauce, apple butter, baked apples, spiced apples. I think I am going to go on a hunt for more apple recipes, just as soon as I'm done with my test this week.

Quality Control

I make a lot of pies; mostly apple. The recipe I use was passed down from my father's mother, to my mother, to me. I've learned it well. Apparently, when my father was in California visiting my grandmother, he told her all about my baking skills, how I make a pretty mean apple-pie. This is also the same time he promised that we would be going out to California for Christmas. My grandmother has said that I am going to have to bake her a pie while I'm out there so she can see how well I do. No pressure, no pressure at all.

Any suggestions?

I've realized that, as broad as my music collection is, I have very little in the way of classical music. I greatly enjoy classical music, but don't actually own any.
What would you suggest as some staples that I need to start off with?

Have you missed me?

On second thought, it's probably best not to ask questions like that as I am not sure I want to know the answer....

I know, this blog has been mostly dead for a while. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum-up. I have a very long to-do list and it seems that every time I cross one thing off, I add five more. I'm in the wierdest of states, though. There are all these things I probably should be stressed about but I'm not really. Behold the power of Peace.

The one thing that does stress me out is my room/apartment. I can't stand to have things messy; which, of course, they are right now. Not that I need all-spotless-all-the-time, but having things scattered, cluttered, and in various states of disarray infects my focus in other areas. So if I'm having trouble staying awake in class, it's because I have laundry that needs to be put away.

My parents are coming up this weekend and if they want a place to stay, I've got some work to do.

Just a thought

Is there anything more confounding than Joy? It is the undeniable mark of the Living God. Christ says that we will be known as His by the love we have for one another, but there is something to this Joy. It is the afterglow of the glory of God, a direct result of time spent in His presence.

I've cried some these past couple of weeks--over uncertainty regarding my grandmother, over the overwhelming thought of this coming semester--but even when my cheeks were wet with tears, I could not help but smile. Smiling through the tears is not putting on a brave face, pulling myself up and "getting through" the rough bits. For me, it is the response of surrendering, putting absolute faith and trust in God's will. I cannot, in light of God's grace and mercy, abandon myself to sorrow, hopelessness, or self-pity. His joy allows room for nothing else.

Prayer request.

As some of you may already know, my grandmother (Father's side) was recently diagnosed with colon cancer. She had had rectal cancer before (years ago) and this cancer was caught early because of her history. She has been in chemo for one week now and by the end of this first round she was so weak that she fell and broke her hip. She underwent surgery on Friday and has been home since.

Today, however, it seems she has taken a turn for the worse. She was complaining that she wasn't feeling well and so my uncle took her into the hospital where she was placed in intensive care. The doctors think her lowered blood pressure may be due to a loosened bloodclot and, due to her age and weakened state only give her a 50/50 chance of living through the night.

The real hardship in the situation is not the possibility of her death (she is older and in poor health). The hardship is that she lives in California and neither my parents nor I have seen her in the past 12 years. My father was planning on going out this coming weekend to visit (after hearing her recent cancer diagnosis). Furthermore, I do not know where she stands with Christ. She talks about prayer and God, but it seems to me as more of a "Churched" background than a real knowledge or relationship. I do not know her heart, she may be a fervent believer....

I suppose the real difficulty with a loved one fighting for life is when you don't know if you will see them again in this life or the next.

Please pray for my grandmother, her health, that she will make it through the night. Pray for my father, as I know he blames himself for not having seen her in so long.

Update: She made it through the night and her condition was downgraded from critical to stable. The doctors still aren't sure what was wrong and she isn't out of the woods yet...

Blogs are busting out all over
All throughout the Appalacian Hills

Ok, so that would have worked better had I ever actually seen Carousel.
Point is lots of my friends have logged in to the blogging cult-ure. Go check out Matt and Mark, welcome them, before they're wise to us.

Traffic has been slow, really slow around here. Not that I need people to read, but it doesn't feel all that great when the visitor counter is stuck on 0. People used to visit me once. TSO popped in a few times...

New goal: rebuild my base.

I think that means I have to start putting up substance now

Well, that was weird....

I am happy where I am in my life right now: perfectly content with my single-ness, and not looking for anyone more than Christ to fill my time. Having said that....

I was bored the other day (Or, more accurately, I was avoiding work the other day) and I stumbled across one of those "meet-your-match" websites. Just for kicks (to waste even more time) I decided to fill out a survey just to see what their profile said about me and whether I agreed with it or not. I forgot, however, to erase/close whatever account was started when I finished.

So today I get an email about a potential match. Not only does this person live near me, I know him. In fact, we are actually good friends.

My account is now closed and I think I've got some 'splaining to do....

jiggity-jig

Home again. And by that I mean beautiful Blacksburg, VA. Believe it or not I moved back three weeks ago.

{Pray, then, why hadst thou neglected us?}

For the past two weeks I have actually been without connection to the outer world. I ventured where no sane person ought, where no cell-phone signal is found. Thankfully I am not exactly sane. I was at Mountain Lake Biological Station with the rest of my Field Techniques class. Yes, it is technically owned by those we do not speak of but none were to be seen during our stay. (Methinks lost in fear and trembling.)

Ah, MLBS, where tree-riding is a highly competitive sport, mice can be listed as arboreal species, and 80% of the class (including the instructor) holds a dear cold brew in their hands during lecture. I had a blast. We did everything: small mammal trapping, salamander surveys, mist netting (birds and bats), bird banding, remote camera sampling, tranquilizer gun practice, rocket netting, bear snare setting....And then I had to come back down to boring old school.

Actually, school this year will be anything but boring. I've four rather challenging courses plus an undergraduate research project in remote camera sampling (I've fallen in love with it). So time management will be key this semester. Wait, let me rephrase: Good, productive time management will be key this semester. I've never really had a problem managing my time...My management goals have just been slightly skewed.

Classes are starting back up and I'm not sure how solid a start I have. Already I am neglecting work to write to you.{Hey Mikey, she likes us!}

On Journaling

This is what happens to my writing when I am not entrenched in technical and scientific babble all day long.

For me, there is a method in the starting and keeping of a journal, indeed, almost a ritual. Careful thought and planning is observed before ever pen touches paper. In seeing out even the smallest details, I find that I can focus all the more on the therapy at hand. My thoughts are on the perfect expression of whichever of the numberless ideas I have decided to concentrate on rather than consumed with the amount of room left on the page or ink left in the pen.

The journal itself is, of course, the keystone of the process. I, myself, have three at the moment; signs of an addiction, perhaps, but a page for every thought and a thought for every page. There is my study journal: sturdy, neatly organized, complementary sized so as to be easily carried alongside my Bible to studies, conferences, and sermons as well as personal devotion times. It's pages are thus far filed with notes, comments and questions as well as an occasional prayer scribbled in the margins.

Then, I have an actual prayer journal; also sized to be carried with my Bible. It is leather-bound, compact, secure. It started as an ordinary journal at a time when I was lost in uncertainty, determined to flush out my identity on a regimen of reflection and self-evaluation. (Perhaps that is why it resembles a traveler's journal.) It was shelved for a while and I realized that my identity was in Christ all along. So it was born anew as the journal that helps me bring focus and intent to my prayers. It is also a constant review and reminder of what God has done in my life.

There is my newest journal. Small, discrete, portable, it is a ready receptacle for any inspirations or ideas that may come during the day or, as the case may have it, at night. It is, as I've said, small, and I shouldn't doubt if I've managed to exhaust its pages in some short-time. It is meant, more than anything, to whet my rhetorical appetite to what it once was. Perhaps I will again toy with the poetry and prose I delighted in.

Through my journaling I've come to a philosophy on, of all things, pens. Crucial to the journaling experience is the proper writing utensil. While I prefer a quill and ink bottle, they are not the most portable of choices. Nor are they the most convenient for simply "jotting something down." While a pencil offers that beautiful scratch as it moves over the paper, it does not bring the challenge and permanence granted by a pen. Preferring to write in script I have found it difficult to find a pen that will provide the same scratch as most write too smoothly nowadays. There is something to that sound of pen on paper, almost as though you are hearing the ideas sharpen, solidify. Thoughts are moved from the abstract to the concrete with a few whispered scratches.

I feel a pen should rank well in the areas of style, form and function; as well as availability and reliability. A pen on its last drop of ink can leave you stranded mid-revelation and then all the world will be denied your inspiring message. Or, at least, you may forget quite how you meant to put it and it will lose its verve leaving you forever disappointed and frustrated.

A unique pen, while inspiring, will be hard to replace. I like consistency in my pages It's one of the few places I can actually have control and I like to take full advantage of the situation. Given the unfathomable variations in black ink alone, I like a pen that isn't one in a million. Preferably one that can be re-stocked with an easy errand.

A pen should write well. I have too often been frustrated and distracted by a pen that would not fill in the bottom of a loop, or faded in and out, or leaked extra ink and bled onto my every other thought.

A pen should fit well in your hand. It should be balanced to flow well with your stroke and flare and allow for prolonged sessions.

And, finally, a pen should suit the personality of the writer. I prefer something simple and clean. I especially avoid having advertisements for drugs, hospitals banks and the like competing for my attention while I am searching out that one perfect word or phrase.

Happy Hunting Grounds

We had to have our dog put down on Monday. Her 12 years of life ended after a sudden onset of seizures. She was an old dog and we knew she wouldn't be with us much longer. I was rather prepared for it.

I think, for me, the most upsetting part of her death was the seizures. I hated the thought of her suffering more than that of losing her altogether.

Another thing that's been bothering me is how well I have been taking things. And getting used to there not being a head peeking around the corner whenever you are in the kitchen.

There is something amazing about God's joy. In prayer, I found that I wasn't praying for help through trouble or grief, but thanking God for the time Sophie was able to bless our family.

Peachy Keen

Well, I'm in the middle of getting things ready for the fall semester. There is shopping to be done and a schedule or two to be evaluated, moving preparations as well as an attempt to transfer to the Target up in Christiansburg so that I can keep the income through the school year. I remember summers in grade school seemed to get shorter each year. I would watch the roads for the bus drivers learning their new routes as the tell-tale sign that school was indeed closing in upon us once more. (Not to deny that I did, and do still, love school.) Now I am preparing for school before August has even peeked over the horizon.

Curse you mature responsibility!

I've gone from debating the superiority of green and blue freezer-pops to questioning whether to add another class this fall (bringing my credit-load to 17) so that I can add another non-required class this spring. I think I shall actually. The class in question is an "Intro to Shakespeare" course although Shakespeare and I have already met and are, in truth, quite intimate friends. It will, however, fulfill a creativity requirement and give me an excuse to indulge once again in King Lear...not that I've ever needed an excuse before.

Dear me, I had meant this to be about peaches. If you ever find yourself in the Blue Ridge area of Virginia, especially during peach, apple, or any other fruitful season, I highly suggest an excursion to the Saunders Brothers Orchard no matter how far a side-trip it may be. We took a day trip up there today to load up on peaches. Absolutely gorgeous. We've managed to come home with 4 pecks (48 lbs) worth as well as an assortment of jams, jellies and other delights. My parents stumbled across the orchard last fall and we've been hooked on their Peach Salsa, Apple-Raisin Butter and FROG Jam (comprising Figs, Raspberries, Oranges, and Grapes). I've added to my collection of tasty treats Mayhaw Jelly, Sweet Potato and Honey Butter, Corncob Jelly, and Blackberry Cider. I purchased with the plan of saving them and taking everything up to school with me in a couple of weeks but I don't know if I can hold out all that long.

Holy Locomotive, Batman!

Actually, this has nothing to do with trains, or Batman for that matter. But you, being the uber-intelligent person you are already knew that. Sheesh, I can't fool you for a second. I just realized that it's been a month...no more than that....since I last posted anything. My posting always slows when I go home, I don't like being tucked away in a cave...that an there are people around. I hate the feeling that someone is looking over my shoulder when I type. Enough excuses.

I figured it might be nice to catch all two of you up on what's been going on around the coop since May. For starters, I'm home for the summer (and by that I mean the house where my parent's live that I used to live in before I went off to join the Hokie cheering section). Coming home is always an adventure: returning to my room to see what mess might be left for me to pick up. Finding a place for the stuff I brought home with me, acquainting myself with any new animals (this time is was hermit crabs)....And, of course there is always the first Sunday back. I have to prep myself for Sunday mornings. The percentage of people at church that I actually know keeps shrinking, so among all the new people there are to meet, I also have to run through the same questions over and over with all the people I do know: "how long are you back?" "How is school going?" "How much longer do you have?" and the like.

I got a job for the summer, I start tomorrow. I'm working at Target. I also got a vehicle, one of my other goals for the summer. To be specific, I got a truck. A little '96 Ford, just big enough to be called a truck, but it's manual so that counts for some cool points. I'm working on a name for it, I'm thinking George might be a good fit, but I haven't really defined it's personality as of yet. I love my truck. I really do. I may have to go for a drive today.

No Joke

Multiple Choice question from my Habitat Ecology Final:

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
a)2 cords
b)Who's asking?
c)Who cares?
d)4 cubic chains
e)It depends

Yes, there is a correct answer to that.
And yes, my prof. is a huge Gary Larson fan.

Checking in.

Just to let you know, I am still alive. School has gotten the better of me recently.

To keep you busy while I'm tied up:

I've been thinking recently of the differences between humility and modesty.
Discuss.

What a match!

Happy 23rd Wedding Anniversary to my parents. 

Feliz cumpleanos a mi.

Yes, it is, once again, my birthday today. I'm 21, completely legal. Although my celebrations are slightly different from the vast majority of ex-minors....

Instead of buying myself my first beer (which, when I do, will be a Guinness)I decided to spoil myself by ordering a little light reading. Don't all girls want writings of a 12th century monk for the big 21?

Ah well, if anybody is feeling in the birthday spirit and wants to gift me with one of the other things on my wish list, go right ahead. I'm really hoping for those Chant cds....

Lessons from the book of Ruth

Mom's don't meddle, they act in God's plan.

Sometimes you've got to get your hands dirty.

Excellence is meeting, and surpassing, the required characteristics.

Men can be almost as crafty as women.

If you had sack of grain, a cloak, and a sandal....I'd marry you.

Often we just can't see where we fit in to God's plan and all we can do is obey.

Character: now that's hot!

If business deals today resulted in you having to get a new pair of shoes, Fortune 500 would be a women's magazine.

My Redeemer Lives

When I am reading through the Bible, I often stumble across certain words or phrases that stick out to me for no apparent reason. A lot of the time, these are words that we use without really thinking about why or what they mean, yet they are part of our Christian vocabulary and we rarely stop to question them. I like to stop and dig in, words are chosen for a purpose and I want to know what that purpose is. So this past week, when it was my night to share with the group, I took them on a little adventure, the same expedition I share with you now.

I've been reading through Ruth with one of the girls in my Bible study, and a word that kept popping out at me was "redeemer" and since then I've been chewing over the connection between Boaz as Ruth's redeemer, and Christ as ours. What was it about Ruth that needed to be redeemed? She was a widow. Whenever widows are mentioned in the Word, they are grouped with the poor, the needy. In 1 Kings 17:22 we meet the widow who has nothing but a little flour and some oil that she is set to use to prepare a last meal for her and her son. In 2 Kings 4, the widow is being pursued by creditors and has nothings but a jar of oil. In Luke 21, the widow who offers 2 small copper coins is said to have offered more than any of the others for she gave all she had. So widows were poor. Loss of a husband meant loss of income. A widow could not provide for herself, she was helpless, desperate.

In Genesis 38 we find the story of Tamar. Her first husband died so she married his brother in hopes that he might continue the line. (The story takes a turn for the worse soon after, but the practice is all I need to reference.)

This is the practice we see in Ruth. Ruth and Naomi have both become widows, they have no income. Ruth goes to the field to glean from the harvest with the rest of the poor. Boaz is able to provide for Ruth. He marries her to "redeem" her, to restore her and "raise up the name of the deceased." So how does that apply to us?

Boaz could redeem Ruth because he was a relative, even called a "closest relative" (Ruth 2:20) which can also be translated "redeemer." We have been adopted into God's family and are even called fellow heirs with Christ (Romans 8:15-17).

Our original relationship, the one we were intended to share with God, died in Adam's sin. We are widows. We are spiritually bankrupt and have no means of providing for ourselves. But Christ, Christ was sent into this world to reconcile--bring back into close relationship--all things. He was sent to redeem us, to restore our inheritance in God's kingdom, to bring glory to the name of the Father.

One of the great ideas behind this whole "redeemer" thing, is that redeemers had a choice. In Ruth 4, the closer relative had a choice as to whether he wanted to redeem Ruth or not, he chose not to. But Christ came with that sole purpose. It was His choice.

Like I said, this is just something I've been chewing on for a few days...

Happy Pi Day.

Yes, I am a nerd. No, it's not the same "Pi" in my title.

Some sites for you to visit.

Is your birthday in Pi? Mine is, position 1134202.

Read a history of Pi.

And then take the quiz.

Or check out Pi to 1,000,000 places.

The time has come

My little friends,
to talk of other things.
Of shores and trips and packing bags
Of week-long break and Spring!
And why I'm off to Florida
And whether we'll get to swing.
Calloo-Callay
No work, hurray!
We're cabbages and kings!

Yes sir. I am off to Stuart, Florida for this the week of Spring Break. It's one of the Nav trips we run every year and we'll be staying at a church and working on homes for Habitat for Humanity.

I will be missing my babies up in Chester, but I am really looking forward to this week.

Do you enjoy the distortion?

So I'm an Earthsuit fan. (Apparently they are no longer "Earthsuit" but that doesn't really matter.) It's really hard to describe or classify them. Although it made sense, for some reason, when I learned they were from New Orleans.

One of my particular favorites of theirs is Sky Flashings:

Who keeps the balance in suspended skies
Supporting Earth with inward thrust
Let the audience refocus eyes
On all sky flashings in front of us

Who's seen in the midst of unsealing skies
It's revelation that all can see
And yet our hearts remain hushed inside
Mindless of fantasia we enjoy for free.

It takes a miracle, kaleidoscope superior
Spinning vortex, bleeding shades of night to day
Sovereign pictures center stage
Genius of the cosmic craze
Days and nights keep on and on
God abroad in blended song
In our sky flashings

Who can deny this pure design
Emanating views never seen
Revealing art to mortal minds
Entranced in our phantasmic dreams

Disappearing Act

I know you are probably wondering what's happened to me the past couple of weeks. I could say that I decided to give up posting for Lent, but that's evidently not the case. Nor have I given up on the whole blog thing and just decided to let my page slowly wear away into the mysterious expanse of the internet. The simple truth is, I've been absolutely swamped. I've barely been able to keep my head above water these past couple of weeks, and really don't have time between now and Spring Break (1.5 weeks away) either. I'm just refusing to do work tonight. Or anything more than reading at any rate.

I've been thinking recently of how distant I've become in so many of my relationships. I remember growing up, how every time we moved I would swear it was the time that I was going to keep up correspondence with those friends I was leaving behind. If I ever did, it slowly lessoned. Each letter was more delayed than the last. And then they just stopped completely. I've been noticing with friendships I have now. It has taken a lot of determination to keep involved with some people. As hard as it is sometimes here in town, it's been even more so with people who live in other cities, and other states.

Lets run through the list. I haven't seen most of my maternal relatives for 12 years. My maternal grandparents came up to visit occasionally, but the last time they came was probably 4 or 5 years ago. My paternal grandfather came up to visit a couple of summers ago, but I haven't seen my paternal grandmother or my uncles for, again, 12 years. I think they (my grandmother and at least one of my uncles) are planning to come up sometime this spring, which is tremendously exciting.

I do keep in touch with my parents. I didn't get to call home too much last year, but this year I've been calling at least once a week, often more. I think it's because I fear drifting away so much. I don't want to have the relationship with them that my parents have with their families. My dad hears from his family maybe 3 times a year, total. Birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas.

One of the things that really bugs me is what has become of my brother and me. We spent years in the same house and couldn't really stand each other. But now, I haven't seen him in 3 years, and I rarely get to speak with him. When I do hear what is going on with him, it's usually relayed through my parents.

I've been fighting. I've been writing letters. I've been determined to know how people in my family are doing. Is this just how it is? We fall to the point of the obligatory holiday phone call? You know, all this technology is supposed to be making communication easier...I don't think we are using it to its full potential.



And on a side note: A little too ironic: Blogger spell check doesn't recognize "blog" as a proper word. Neither does it recognize Blogger. You think they'd fix that.

Some things should just stay dead

Supposedly, if you hang on to something long enough it will come back into style. With all the retro/vintage fashion waves that have been about recently I've been excited to see many 40s and 50s inspired looks. I've even liked some of the 60s fabrics and sometimes the 70s funk that has shown up.
The one thing I dread. The thing that sparks convulsive twitching as I see it creeping back into our closets is the return of the 80s. Maybe it's because I lived through part of the decade and don't want to admit that I'm old enough for something I've worn to be "back in style." Maybe it's because it's the only "retro" decade that I've actually seen in person and could actually witness how bad things were at the time. Whatever it is, I'm fighting.
So I just about died yesterday when I saw a girl on campus in a black off-the-shoulder shirt, a white skirt, and black Spandex shorts underneath. She even had black sneakers to complete the outfit. If her hair wasn't so normal, I swear she could have passed for Cyndi Lauper. Except she wasn't looking for fun. Oh no, she was spotted well before lunch time. This was day-wear.

Heard in passing:

Guy 1: So did you have a good time?
Guy 2: According to reports, I had a blast.

I've never seen the appeal of drinking yourself out of consciousness.

Just thought I'd share.

So I've been doing some "spring semester" cleaning and ran across some things I had written long ago and just about forgot I had. This one I wrote in high school:

I'm so tired of waiting
Waiting to hear Your word
Waiting to feel Your pow'r
Waiting to see you move

Where's Your perfect timing?
Wouldn't now be good?
Clearly life's not following my plan.

Still I'm clinging to all Your promises
'Cause I've read all about the hope You give
Lord, remind me of Your faithfulness
Let Your grace be enough.
Not by my will, Lord
So let Thy will be done.

Where is all this going?
Where would You have me go?
What would You have me do?
Who would You have me know?

Still, I stand in waiting.
Here I am, send me.
Lord, I long to follow where you lead.

So I'm clinging to all Your promises
'Cause I know all about the hope You give.
Keep reminding me of You faithfulness
And Your grace is more than enough.
Not by my will, Lord.
So let Thy will be done.

In case you couldn't tell, those are supposed to be song lyrics. I never thought the tune itself was very good, but that is another story.

The point, I think, is that I still get impatient about the future. It's not that I want to see the whole map (control-freak that I am), but sometimes knowing where the next turn is would be grand. I guess that is what trusting God, having faith is all about. All I know is the final destination and it's all up to God when I get there and what roads I take on the way. Forget being a co-pilot, I'm sitting in the back more or less along for the ride. Shoot, crank the music and let's stop off at some of those green pastures every now and again and I'm good to go.

Right, that metaphor is far from perfect. I know it doesn't really address work done along the way, like offering pedestrians a ride and such. But it says what I want it to say. And - gosh darn it - it's my metaphor and I'll leave it incomplete if I want to.

Where was I? Oh yeah, God's perfect planning. I was singing a song the other night (Abba Father by Shaun Groves) and part of it is:

In my weakness, You protect me.
When my heart strays, You correct me.

and I was reminded of how much God has protected/corrected me and how often I don't really see all that He has done/is doing until I see it in retrospect.

[I was going to insert here, as an example, a long story about this guy I knew in high school and how God kept me from what would have been a messy and impossible relationship, but I felt cheesy and annoying when I was writing it (not that it has really stopped me before) so I decided to spare you. You don't know how grateful you should be. Really. I mean, chocolates and thank-you bouquets might be in order...]

What is winter with no snow?

Yep, it snowed here in Blacksburg today. And actually stuck a little bit. That means today was a good day.

And to start the semester off properly, a run-down of my course-load:
Genetics: Not much to say on this one. Except my teacher is Turkish.
Habitat Ecology: A study of habitat classifications. Most likely going to be my best class this semester.
Statistics: No comment.
Population Dynamics and Estimation: All math. It should be interesting though.
Habitat Evaluation: One big group project. All semester long.
Wildlife Field Techniques: This class meets 4 times this semester. And then I have a 10 day field work in August.

It's going to be quite the semester.

Back in the 'Burg

Contrary to popular belief, I have not disappeared from the face of the earth. I'm back at school (have been for 30 hours perhaps) and will resume normal posting schedules shortly.