the good you do comes back to you
Showing posts with label xmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label xmas. Show all posts
20140109
20120226
roasted!
I am fond of coffee. This is well known, likely to you also, Dear Reader, to the point that I often have to defend myself from charges of being a coffee snob, which I am not because I cannot afford to be: I am a caffeine junky, and, at risk of withdrawal will even seek my fix in soft drinks.
But I love coffee, and have, in deference to my dependency, been careful not to cultivate any highfalutin tastes while developing a broad appreciation for the elixir of the bean. (I will, however, try to avoid burnt coffee, and that which has been made/stored in/dispensed from equipment that is dirty enough to taste.)
Beyond that, I exercise less taste-directed discrimination in my selection of commercial coffee purveyors than antipathy to aspects of ambiance, convenience and personal relation. Thus, I avoid that monolith; I avoid the long lines of uptight office-suits at that monolith's cervine competitor; and go to the little independently-operated bakery franchise because the coffee's fine and the staff are pleasant and -- personally -- personable.
I do choose to make my own coffee well, grinding whole beans each time I brew to maximize available aromatic oils, but don't stress too much about whose vacuum-sealed brick of roasted beans I buy or where I get it (generally, still, avoiding that monolith), understanding that, as a junky, I have little practical ability to influence how long ago that vacuum-sealed brick was roasted. In the end I am happier to have a steady supply of reasonably-good coffee than a small and work-intensive supply of excellent coffee.
Some time ago, I remarked to my sister that a friend of a friend had been reported to roast her own green coffee beans in a skillet as part of her balanced and lovingly-prepared Ethiopian breakfast, and I thought that, while somewhat high maintenance, that sounded interesting, but I didn't have the first idea where to find fresh green coffee beans.
It was round about xmas, and, hearing this, sis got a calculating gleam in her eye, and said, "Oh, yes?" kind of knowingly. And I foolishly suggested that it would be hard to find a satisfactory, low maintenance supply (I am more than averagely chary about conducting commercial activities via the Internet, and don't believe -- or object to the tone of -- most of what I read), even in the unlikely event I should get around to learning the art with a skillet of my own, which she took as a challenge, apparently animated by fervent faith in the ramifying variety of Internet endeavors to efficiently supply any demand.
But I love coffee, and have, in deference to my dependency, been careful not to cultivate any highfalutin tastes while developing a broad appreciation for the elixir of the bean. (I will, however, try to avoid burnt coffee, and that which has been made/stored in/dispensed from equipment that is dirty enough to taste.)
Beyond that, I exercise less taste-directed discrimination in my selection of commercial coffee purveyors than antipathy to aspects of ambiance, convenience and personal relation. Thus, I avoid that monolith; I avoid the long lines of uptight office-suits at that monolith's cervine competitor; and go to the little independently-operated bakery franchise because the coffee's fine and the staff are pleasant and -- personally -- personable.
I do choose to make my own coffee well, grinding whole beans each time I brew to maximize available aromatic oils, but don't stress too much about whose vacuum-sealed brick of roasted beans I buy or where I get it (generally, still, avoiding that monolith), understanding that, as a junky, I have little practical ability to influence how long ago that vacuum-sealed brick was roasted. In the end I am happier to have a steady supply of reasonably-good coffee than a small and work-intensive supply of excellent coffee.
Some time ago, I remarked to my sister that a friend of a friend had been reported to roast her own green coffee beans in a skillet as part of her balanced and lovingly-prepared Ethiopian breakfast, and I thought that, while somewhat high maintenance, that sounded interesting, but I didn't have the first idea where to find fresh green coffee beans.
It was round about xmas, and, hearing this, sis got a calculating gleam in her eye, and said, "Oh, yes?" kind of knowingly. And I foolishly suggested that it would be hard to find a satisfactory, low maintenance supply (I am more than averagely chary about conducting commercial activities via the Internet, and don't believe -- or object to the tone of -- most of what I read), even in the unlikely event I should get around to learning the art with a skillet of my own, which she took as a challenge, apparently animated by fervent faith in the ramifying variety of Internet endeavors to efficiently supply any demand.
20120216
bookbrick and the growing backlog
Some weeks ago I began describing some of the books I have read and acquired lately, and the post ran a little long, so I decided to revisit again when time permitted. Most of that was an effort to clear the decks for the xmas lode.
You see, my sibling and I exchange scrip redeemable at a popular online retailer of books (and almost everything else) and we might both have gone a little overboard this year, because I had a hard time spending all that scrip on stuff I actually wanted, or, to be a little more precise: I had a hard time calling to mind all the objects that I want and on which I would have liked to spend said scrip at the moment when I was trying to redeem it. I had several books in mind, but after I added them to my cart, the scrip balance was still troublingly high.
Two things I browsed but did not buy: ProTools software (DJ Pebkac's still climbing the not-very-steep-or-high learning curve of Audacity, but, while harboring music-authoring ambitions, has little time to devote to learning such software), and traditional Afghan "pakol" hats - which did not seem to be available for a head so large as mine.
The bookbrick arrived some days later:
Pictured, from right to left: The Glass Bead Game, Herman Hesse; Thelonious Monk, The Life of an American Original, Robin D.G. Kelly; Buddha volumes 1-8, Osamu Tezuka (graphic novels); The System of the World, Neal Stephenson; Rule 34, Charles Stross.
You see, my sibling and I exchange scrip redeemable at a popular online retailer of books (and almost everything else) and we might both have gone a little overboard this year, because I had a hard time spending all that scrip on stuff I actually wanted, or, to be a little more precise: I had a hard time calling to mind all the objects that I want and on which I would have liked to spend said scrip at the moment when I was trying to redeem it. I had several books in mind, but after I added them to my cart, the scrip balance was still troublingly high.
Two things I browsed but did not buy: ProTools software (DJ Pebkac's still climbing the not-very-steep-or-high learning curve of Audacity, but, while harboring music-authoring ambitions, has little time to devote to learning such software), and traditional Afghan "pakol" hats - which did not seem to be available for a head so large as mine.
The bookbrick arrived some days later:
Pictured, from right to left: The Glass Bead Game, Herman Hesse; Thelonious Monk, The Life of an American Original, Robin D.G. Kelly; Buddha volumes 1-8, Osamu Tezuka (graphic novels); The System of the World, Neal Stephenson; Rule 34, Charles Stross.
20120129
but for the IMF, the Revolution woulda succeeded, and other books
I have recently read a bunch of books; even so, the backlog of books I intend to read but have not done so yet continues to expand.
The Shock Doctrine: the Rise of Disaster Capitalism, Naomi Klein
This is an excellent book: I cannot recommend it too strongly. Thoroughly-researched, persuasively-presented and well-written, it is, however, dense, grueling to read and demoralizing.
As my paraphrase of Big Eagle in the title of this post might suggest, I would compare it to Dee Brown's Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, insofar as it tells essentially the same terrible story of deceit and disenfranchisement over and over, depicting a different region or period in each chapter, except that the First Nations of Dee Brown's history would be Argentina, Chile, Poland, South Africa, Russia, much of the Pacific Rim, Iraq and the United States government in Klein's, and the forces of manifest desitny -- settlers, squatters, generals and congressmen -- of Brown's would be the Chicago School economic doctrines, their demagogues, tyrants and the institutions that implement them, in Klein's book.
Klein's thesis is
The Shock Doctrine: the Rise of Disaster Capitalism, Naomi Klein
This is an excellent book: I cannot recommend it too strongly. Thoroughly-researched, persuasively-presented and well-written, it is, however, dense, grueling to read and demoralizing.
As my paraphrase of Big Eagle in the title of this post might suggest, I would compare it to Dee Brown's Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, insofar as it tells essentially the same terrible story of deceit and disenfranchisement over and over, depicting a different region or period in each chapter, except that the First Nations of Dee Brown's history would be Argentina, Chile, Poland, South Africa, Russia, much of the Pacific Rim, Iraq and the United States government in Klein's, and the forces of manifest desitny -- settlers, squatters, generals and congressmen -- of Brown's would be the Chicago School economic doctrines, their demagogues, tyrants and the institutions that implement them, in Klein's book.
Klein's thesis is
a challenge to the central and most cherished claim . . . that the triumph of deregulated capitalism has been born of freedom, that unfettered free markets go hand in hand with democracy. Instead, I will show that this fundamentalist form of capitalism has consistently been midwifed by the most brutal forms of coercion, inflicted on the collective body politic as well as on countless individual bodies. The history of the contemporary free market -- better understood as the rise of corporatism -- was written in shocks.It took me a long time to read, and, as I read it as a pdf on a handheld device, I did not track choice verbiage as effectively as I might have reading hardcopy (I had to go back looking for the foregoing quote, pulled from the introduction, but know it is not as great as language in some solidly compelling paragraphs there among the chapters that I'd have underlined if I could have . . . and perhaps I'll learn to better track such things anon).
20111224
yuletube
Metafilter has recently given us some seasonal compilations of youtube performances:
"my baby left me, start'd me drinkin' on christmas day" offers links that ring in blues from freddie king, blind blaake, little milton, blind lemon jefferson and many more, while "it came upon a Bb minor diminished 7th clear" compiles links ringing in jazz from charlie parker, bill evans, chet baker, dexter gordon and others. the comments to those initial posts expand on the theme with more links to more yuletubery. "hendrix hatches heavy holiday haze" does what it says on the package, while the agents at the linked playlist offer even more seasonal singles by the likes of pink floyd, twisted sister, and even this charming parody of jim morrison singing jingle bells (which, of course, in turn, makes me think that the one-horse open sleigh in question is stolen, heading west, and that, when the sun goes down, the driver is gonna get out and get into a fight before checking into the morrison hotel).
"my baby left me, start'd me drinkin' on christmas day" offers links that ring in blues from freddie king, blind blaake, little milton, blind lemon jefferson and many more, while "it came upon a Bb minor diminished 7th clear" compiles links ringing in jazz from charlie parker, bill evans, chet baker, dexter gordon and others. the comments to those initial posts expand on the theme with more links to more yuletubery. "hendrix hatches heavy holiday haze" does what it says on the package, while the agents at the linked playlist offer even more seasonal singles by the likes of pink floyd, twisted sister, and even this charming parody of jim morrison singing jingle bells (which, of course, in turn, makes me think that the one-horse open sleigh in question is stolen, heading west, and that, when the sun goes down, the driver is gonna get out and get into a fight before checking into the morrison hotel).
20090104
bratii and antihumor (cont'd)
<--continued from] (cast: E__ - 12; P__ - 11 ; K__ - 9(ish?); S__ - 6(ish?); J__ - 9 mo.)
E__ I find to be a little bit inscrutable. She has developed, and often appears to me to be, very solitary, and/or very close to my mother. During the family visits or her visits alone she tends to either be off alone working patiently and slowly at some craft or other (often drawing or writing letters), or else with my mother, helping with whatever task is at hand and learning whatever my mother talks about when she has a willing receptive audience, and often patient clear explanations of things. And that's pretty much how she was this time. More affectionate. More confident. She was focused on some craft, apparently oblivious and disinterested when I reported the "mommy doesn't love me" event to my mother, but piped right up to ask which well known adage about the apple and the tree I had meant.
E__ I find to be a little bit inscrutable. She has developed, and often appears to me to be, very solitary, and/or very close to my mother. During the family visits or her visits alone she tends to either be off alone working patiently and slowly at some craft or other (often drawing or writing letters), or else with my mother, helping with whatever task is at hand and learning whatever my mother talks about when she has a willing receptive audience, and often patient clear explanations of things. And that's pretty much how she was this time. More affectionate. More confident. She was focused on some craft, apparently oblivious and disinterested when I reported the "mommy doesn't love me" event to my mother, but piped right up to ask which well known adage about the apple and the tree I had meant.
20090103
fun with the bratii and antihumor
cast: E__ - 12; P__ - 11 ; K__ - 9(ish?); S__ - 6(ish?); J__ - 9 mo.
Fun with the bratii was had this year on two occasions while they stayed with their parents at my parents' house this holiday. On Sunday, Xmas day observed, J__ and I met, discovering many common facial expressions, vocalizations and gross gestures. We communicated a lot, saying who knows what but apparently enjoying it. By today - when my sister hosted a new year's eve party at our parents' house for whoever on her huge mailing list was in town (as it turned out, not too many, but with a bevy of additional kids) and available for 9 hours - J__ was comfortable enough with me to grab my fingers to pull herself upright. And comfortable enough standing there with my fingers to permit her mother to fetch a camera and then actually mug for the shot. Then, as her mother turned away, she decided to let go with all of her hands at the same time. I fleetingly imagined the scenario in which, at my touch and out of the view of her parents, J__ should first stand, and then take her first steps, right then/there! So, out of consideration for my sister, I pushed her over and told her never to trust anybody, and her mother came over disapprovingly to stop the crying jag. Seriously, I did not push her over. I did experience the fantasy developmental milestone scenario. But, in fact, when J__ let go, she was not properly balanced. I had been trying to keep one finger in her no longer grasping hand, and was not ready for her to fall, but did manage to, not particularly gently, catch her. We were both surprised by that too.
Fun with the bratii was had this year on two occasions while they stayed with their parents at my parents' house this holiday. On Sunday, Xmas day observed, J__ and I met, discovering many common facial expressions, vocalizations and gross gestures. We communicated a lot, saying who knows what but apparently enjoying it. By today - when my sister hosted a new year's eve party at our parents' house for whoever on her huge mailing list was in town (as it turned out, not too many, but with a bevy of additional kids) and available for 9 hours - J__ was comfortable enough with me to grab my fingers to pull herself upright. And comfortable enough standing there with my fingers to permit her mother to fetch a camera and then actually mug for the shot. Then, as her mother turned away, she decided to let go with all of her hands at the same time. I fleetingly imagined the scenario in which, at my touch and out of the view of her parents, J__ should first stand, and then take her first steps, right then/there! So, out of consideration for my sister, I pushed her over and told her never to trust anybody, and her mother came over disapprovingly to stop the crying jag. Seriously, I did not push her over. I did experience the fantasy developmental milestone scenario. But, in fact, when J__ let go, she was not properly balanced. I had been trying to keep one finger in her no longer grasping hand, and was not ready for her to fall, but did manage to, not particularly gently, catch her. We were both surprised by that too.
20081214
wish list elicited kibbitzin' with sis
All I need/want cannot really be bought; nor do I imagine any of you are in any position to secure it for me (true, your individual and several love, concern and esteem are within that category, but I'm as confident - barring unthinkable mishap or malfeasance - that I have and will continue receiving those as that the rivers will continue to flow).
Among corporeal objects, as you know, I value little but artifacts containing record of or capable of producing music, and books. At this time, I have access to all I can consume of both at infinitesimal cost.
Which reminds me:
I have access to an immense amount of a quite eclectic range of music.
What do you like?
Among corporeal objects, as you know, I value little but artifacts containing record of or capable of producing music, and books. At this time, I have access to all I can consume of both at infinitesimal cost.
Which reminds me:
I have access to an immense amount of a quite eclectic range of music.
What do you like?
20001226
Dec. 26 Reflection
Strange things enow in Rockville I trow,
that have taxed near all our reserves,
as with Sister and Kids—
and gluttony and gifts—
today did we X-mas observe.
A delicious feast of the Great Roast Beast
was baked in its own Spitting Suet,
then Piled High on the Table,
though we turned out to be able
to finally eat our way through it.
that have taxed near all our reserves,
as with Sister and Kids—
and gluttony and gifts—
today did we X-mas observe.
A delicious feast of the Great Roast Beast
was baked in its own Spitting Suet,
then Piled High on the Table,
though we turned out to be able
to finally eat our way through it.
20001224
A parachristmastial re-missive
`Twas balmy in Rockville on X-mas eve, too,
the dregs of snow melting down into no more than dew.
Our Rockvillian, forestalling already tardy wrapping,
checked his e-mail to see if aught else was hap'ning.
The screen twinkled some icons to say “establishing link”
A click, a whirr, then the machine paused as to think,
Then a loud burst of static, a louder series of tones
and squawking like digital frogs uttering digital groans,
another long silent wait with icons whiling on screen
then a beep and a flash: a new symbolic scene
to inform me I had an incoming epistle;
I clicked the mail application quick as the down of a thistle
the dregs of snow melting down into no more than dew.
Our Rockvillian, forestalling already tardy wrapping,
checked his e-mail to see if aught else was hap'ning.
The screen twinkled some icons to say “establishing link”
A click, a whirr, then the machine paused as to think,
Then a loud burst of static, a louder series of tones
and squawking like digital frogs uttering digital groans,
another long silent wait with icons whiling on screen
then a beep and a flash: a new symbolic scene
to inform me I had an incoming epistle;
I clicked the mail application quick as the down of a thistle
19951218
nam'd
Well, when it rains, it pours. I went for (seemingly) weeks receiving no mail. Last week I did receive some. I got a package from my parents: Christmas presents (!), Act I of "Gotterdammerung," my Cure tapes and Rubber Soul, a turtleneck (black), a pair of Levis (black), earmuffs, and a Winnie-the-pooh figurine -- a pretty good haul. I read War of the Worlds last week and Book IV this weekend (though I'll have to read it some more). Then on Saturday I got four letters: [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], and [redacted]. These arrived while I was trying to write a letter to [redacted]. I haven't finished it yet, but must, in order to write more to others. I still haven't sent [redacted] or [redacted] their Christmas presents yet - and I need to write accompanying letters before I can send them.
On Friday, Kim Seong-oen told me that I should take the name Kim as my Korean name - I hadn't even thought of taking a Korean name. But he set me thinking and, in a short while I realized that the family name I have to take (its obvious, really): [[redacted]]. This name becomes [redacted] when speaking English, which is the name of my uncle. So, I've got to get him to assign me a name (of course in Chinese) which I will transliterate phonetically (probably, in that case, "transphoneticate," or "transphonate") into a Korean name. As he named his sons in English, perhaps he will be made happy to name his nephew in Chinese. More later.
On Friday, Kim Seong-oen told me that I should take the name Kim as my Korean name - I hadn't even thought of taking a Korean name. But he set me thinking and, in a short while I realized that the family name I have to take (its obvious, really): [[redacted]]. This name becomes [redacted] when speaking English, which is the name of my uncle. So, I've got to get him to assign me a name (of course in Chinese) which I will transliterate phonetically (probably, in that case, "transphoneticate," or "transphonate") into a Korean name. As he named his sons in English, perhaps he will be made happy to name his nephew in Chinese. More later.
19951211
bull-tiger-monkey-rat'd
Well its been a long time. As they say here, Oraigan manimnida. Time passes so seamlessly that I hardly notice the passage of weeks. Needless to say, (as I and you - intrepid reader - have no doubt already noticed) I don't write in this journal as often as I should (or could).
What have I done? I bought a bunch of Christmas cards and sent them (Mom & Dad, [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted] - and I think I'm forgetting - oh yes, the [redacted]s). The last went out today. I have also embarked upon my Christmas present ventures - I'm sending four presents (at least until such a time as I can find gifts for the family), all the same: [redacted], [redacted] (Whose went out today), [redacted] and [redacted] will all receive copies of Seo Taiji and Boys vol. iv and ii. Token gifts, but interesting nonetheless.
I'm expecting a letter from [redacted] and packages from my parents. I called [redacted] last night. It was great to hear her voice and talk with her, but somewhat difficult - the few second lag and the new problem of my voice echoing gave it a somewhat surreal feeling for me - as I talked, I stumbled about as though tripping. Odd.
I have finished reading all the books that I bought a scarce week and 1/2 ago - except the two from the bibliography that [redacted] sent me. Duke, when he's not using it lets me read his copy of Foucault's Pendulum - Umberto Eco is quickly (that is, this is the second book of his that I have really enjoyed) becoming an author whom I like. Although Duke's been reading it longer than I have, I am already 100 pages farther into it that he is. Hi Ego!
About Duke - Link and I received some intelligence to the effect that he is on his way out. That is, Won Jeong Nimh is trying to figure out how to fire him. The news was supposed to hit him yesterday when he collected his salary. He came back down saying that he needed to talk to me.
As it turns out Mr. Im made an offer (but Duke wasn't clear precisely that the offer was), which Duke rejected, making/offering a list of five possibilities to which he was open. Apparently an argument ensued - the result of which is that we are all (again!) left waiting.
I've been studying the Yoga book and try to do Yoga every day - I don't have too much trouble doing asanas, but I'm shy (and a bit self-deprecating) about the Pranayama. Some of the breathing exercises are a bit loud, and I'm not sure I'm doing them correctly. Nevertheless, I continue to try. The asanas have got me feeling (bodily) pretty strong and vigorous. There are a few postures that I cannot do - mostly the advanced ones, but, given that I stick with it, I will eventually be able to.
Chinese Horoscope: I am characterized according to the year, month, day, and time of my birth. The result is me being, respectively, Bull (diligent), tiger (brave/alone), monkey (dexterity), and rat (social/many friendships). From these I am judged (configured) according to the strengths of the five basic elements as represented in my birth: wood is plentiful, fire absent, water present, earth present, and gold present. From these my character is organized. I have too much wood - which means I have too many "wills" or interests. In plain English - my interests are many and disparate, I do not focus on just one thing. I am diligent, decisive, dexterous. I have good "leadership qualities." I have many friends and I am happy to be alone. I should wear warm colors (to balance the lack of fire in me), I have a tendency to wear a lot of (gold?) jewelry, I should live in a house (apartment is no good) and have a garden. I'm not sure whether that part's allegory of what. If I marry, my bride should be four years younger than I (that's snake); definitely not five years younger; or eight years younger (cock). That's all I remember. I plan to try to get the man who did my horoscope to do more calculations. Otherwise - next year is the year of the Bull - perhaps my year. I'll keep my tails crossed. All for now.
What have I done? I bought a bunch of Christmas cards and sent them (Mom & Dad, [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted] - and I think I'm forgetting - oh yes, the [redacted]s). The last went out today. I have also embarked upon my Christmas present ventures - I'm sending four presents (at least until such a time as I can find gifts for the family), all the same: [redacted], [redacted] (Whose went out today), [redacted] and [redacted] will all receive copies of Seo Taiji and Boys vol. iv and ii. Token gifts, but interesting nonetheless.
I'm expecting a letter from [redacted] and packages from my parents. I called [redacted] last night. It was great to hear her voice and talk with her, but somewhat difficult - the few second lag and the new problem of my voice echoing gave it a somewhat surreal feeling for me - as I talked, I stumbled about as though tripping. Odd.
I have finished reading all the books that I bought a scarce week and 1/2 ago - except the two from the bibliography that [redacted] sent me. Duke, when he's not using it lets me read his copy of Foucault's Pendulum - Umberto Eco is quickly (that is, this is the second book of his that I have really enjoyed) becoming an author whom I like. Although Duke's been reading it longer than I have, I am already 100 pages farther into it that he is. Hi Ego!
About Duke - Link and I received some intelligence to the effect that he is on his way out. That is, Won Jeong Nimh is trying to figure out how to fire him. The news was supposed to hit him yesterday when he collected his salary. He came back down saying that he needed to talk to me.
As it turns out Mr. Im made an offer (but Duke wasn't clear precisely that the offer was), which Duke rejected, making/offering a list of five possibilities to which he was open. Apparently an argument ensued - the result of which is that we are all (again!) left waiting.
I've been studying the Yoga book and try to do Yoga every day - I don't have too much trouble doing asanas, but I'm shy (and a bit self-deprecating) about the Pranayama. Some of the breathing exercises are a bit loud, and I'm not sure I'm doing them correctly. Nevertheless, I continue to try. The asanas have got me feeling (bodily) pretty strong and vigorous. There are a few postures that I cannot do - mostly the advanced ones, but, given that I stick with it, I will eventually be able to.
Chinese Horoscope: I am characterized according to the year, month, day, and time of my birth. The result is me being, respectively, Bull (diligent), tiger (brave/alone), monkey (dexterity), and rat (social/many friendships). From these I am judged (configured) according to the strengths of the five basic elements as represented in my birth: wood is plentiful, fire absent, water present, earth present, and gold present. From these my character is organized. I have too much wood - which means I have too many "wills" or interests. In plain English - my interests are many and disparate, I do not focus on just one thing. I am diligent, decisive, dexterous. I have good "leadership qualities." I have many friends and I am happy to be alone. I should wear warm colors (to balance the lack of fire in me), I have a tendency to wear a lot of (gold?) jewelry, I should live in a house (apartment is no good) and have a garden. I'm not sure whether that part's allegory of what. If I marry, my bride should be four years younger than I (that's snake); definitely not five years younger; or eight years younger (cock). That's all I remember. I plan to try to get the man who did my horoscope to do more calculations. Otherwise - next year is the year of the Bull - perhaps my year. I'll keep my tails crossed. All for now.
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