Ahhhh... Time to Relax

June 25, 2009

Well, we're back off the road from our first family vacation in two years visiting Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Last year Tom and I blew the vacation budget through the roof when we went back to N.C. to see Josh's S.F. graduation. Anyway, this trip with the kids was LONG overdue, and Josh and Jess were even able to join us, driving a few thousand miles from Tennessee for a little R&R before Josh heads off to Iraq next month.

True to form, it rained for the first 3 days that we were there and the mosquitoes were horrendous. Honestly, with our track record here lately, I was really surprised it didn't rain the entire time, but we did luck out and got two really beautiful days at the end.

This was Jess' first time to ever visit Yellowstone or Grand Teton, so that was fun for me to watch her reaction. I could happily spend every summer in Yellowstone and never get tired of seeing all the geysers, hot pots, etc., but the boys/men in my life hate it. "You've seen one hot pot, you've seen them all" is their motto, and it drives me crazy! Braden, as we were looking through the photos I downloaded earlier today, summed it up: "Oh, look. Hot water. And look there, there's more hot water, and more, blah blah blah..." We did the typical touristy thing and stopped to watch Old Faithful. The weather was extremely cold, so as soon as it did its thing we hopped back in the vehicles and were off to the next stops: the geyser basins and mud pots. We turned in to my favorite, but every last parking spot was taken, so we had to move on to the next. By this time the boys were already grumbling to head back to camp, so I knew I had to make valuable use of our time. We hit the next spot, but as soon as we (by which I mean Josh, Jess and myself as everyone else opted to wait in the Tahoe) got out, the skies opened up and started pelting us with hail. We speed-walked to the first mud pot, looked at it bubbling, and then ran back to the warmth of the cars. That was Day 1 in Yellowstone.

The next day we spent in Grand Teton N.P., where we spent the majority of our time at Jenny Lake, my favorite spot in the park. Again, there were no parking spots available at my favorite overlook, but we were able to park further down and still got some good photos. While wandering down at the boat dock, we spotted a mama moose and her calf, although we didn't get close enough to get a picture of the baby, and for that I was relieved! On past trips, Tom has had a nasty habit of thinking he was Marlin Perkins on the old Wild Kingdom show and has gone for extreme close-ups. Last time we were in the Tetons, we spotted a moose quite a ways off the road, and the kids and I got to listen to the other people who stopped to look talk about "that crazy idiot" with the camera trying to sneak up on it. None of us fessed up that he was our crazy idiot!

But I digress :) After the lake, Josh and Jess went to Jackson Hole to look around while the rest of us headed back to camp. We decided to drive to the top of Signal Mountain which gives a great view of Jackson Lake, the Tetons, and the valleys all around. It turned out to be one of my favorite stops of the whole trip, and we think we spotted a wolf through the binoculars, although it was a little too far away to be completely certain.

That night, we had a visitor at our campsite: a huge, hairy buffalo. I was in the camper cooking dinner (and taking a break from the teenagers in our midst, although that's another story! Shall we just say that it's not a pretty sight when a 16-year-old has no bars on his cell phone? Withdrawals are never a pretty sight!) when I heard a lot of shouts and screams, and then Jess came running in the trailer to grab the camcorder. I looked out the side window just in time to see the buffalo trotting past. If the window had been open, I could have reached through and petted the dang thing. I ran outside because I heard Tom yelling "Grab the dogs!" Our little 5-pounds when soaking wet Annie had suddenly turned into Guard Dog mode and was chasing the buffalo, which started bucking at the little furry thing at its heels. It was very scary, and she's probably more than a little lucky to be alive. The funny thing was that Josh and Jess had brought their dog, a muscly, hard-headed 6 month old black lab/pit bull mix, which Annie was terrified of. Every time Bull was around, she'd cower behind us, but bring in a 1000-pound buffalo and she's going to save the day. She's got guts, that's for sure! The next morning the word around the showers was that a bear had been spotted elsewhere in the camp that morning.

The final day the boys all went fishing while we girls headed back to Yellowstone. Savannah, Jess, and I spent a good 4 hours at the Old Faithful geyser basin. We tried making it up to "Observation Point" about a mile hike up a STEEP hill from O.F. to see it from a different vantage point, but we weren't quite quick enough to get there before it went off. We continued on anyway, and also got to see a little geyser named "Solitary," which was very cool. It only shoots up about 4-feet, but you can get pretty close to it, and it doesn't really give a warning before it goes off which pretty much gave all three of us heart failure for a moment! We lucked out on several other geysers that day also, arriving just in time to see the River Geyser, which only explodes ever 5-7 hours, go off, and the Grotto Geyser, which the sign said was "unpredictable" went off as we walked past it also. All in all it was a great, beautiful day, and we girls had a lot of fun! I think in the future I will just leave the boys all home and see Yellowstone without them. :)

That night, the boys brough home their catch: 6 fish. The most exciting part was that Evan had caught 3 of them, which was a first for him - he NEVER catches any when we go fishing. Tom and Josh were trying to figure out how to filet them (I'm not sure what kind they were, but they weren't trout - they were like a mountain white fish) when a couple walking past stopped to see what they'd caught. It turned out that he was a French chef from Colorado, so he ran back to his camp spot and grabbed his knives and came back to filet them for us. It was definitely like watching an artist at work, and he had the most fabulous French accent too, which made him fun to listen to.

Well, there you have it: Vacation, Jones' style! It was hard to come home, but good to be back at the same time. At least here I don't have to worry about bears wandering through when I'm sleeping (let me just say that I can hear any noise, however slight, and imagine that it's a bear in the campsite. Sleep for me was a rare commodity!)

By the way, I'm sorry about the crazy layout here, but blogger is not cooperating and doing what I want!

Matthew 7:7

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you..."

The last few weeks have been, as is usual any more, extremely hectic. They have also been really amazing to watch unfold as they have literally turned my life upside down, in mostly good and still waiting to be seen ways. I won't go into a lot of details, but suffice it to say that things both in my home life and my work life that I have been praying about (okay, I'll admit it: nagging God tirelessly about) are turning around in sudden and miraculous ways, only after I'd given up all hope of ever seeing change. It has been a really humbling experience to realize that He really has been working, even in the little details.

Alas, all things in my life have not been going quite as well: namely that the last month has brought rain almost EVERY. SINGLE. FLIPPING. DAY and I am sick of it! I want to get out in my garden and not track 5 gallons of mud in on my special shoes I had to buy just so I didn't ruin every other pair of shoes I own. I want to sit in the sun in the backyard and look at my flowers the kids planted me for mother's day. I want to ride my bike, and take walks where I wouldn't come back looking like something the cat dragged in. Mainly, I want to feel like I live in Utah again rather than the Pacific Northwest in the rainy season.

Anyway, tonight I had to run to Ogden to meet my Aunt at my parents' house. Savannah is spending the next few nights with Lois and her girls' so that they can go to Space Camp. Once we were all together, the talk naturally turned to weather, and both Lo and my mom were sickenly upbeat about all the rain. "It's great for my water bill..." said one, while the other gushed about the crop of mushrooms coming in. I at least know where I get my usually sunny, "Pollyanna" outlook on life, but I draw the line at welcoming week 32 of rain.

As Evan and I left for the hour-long drive back home, the clouds opened up and began pouring down rain again. At one point I debated actually pulling off the road to wait for it to lighten up a little because it was so bad. Right about then I turned to Evan and exclaimed "I don't care what Grandma and Lois think, I wish God would make it quit raining!"

At EXACTLY that same moment, the rain stopped. Completely.

I guess I have this "ask and it shall be given to you" thing down pat! I wonder if that will translate into a winning lottery ticket anytime soon...???

Has anyone seen where my month went?

Goodness! Here it is May 28th, mere hours from May 29th, and I can't quite figure out what happened to the rest of the month. I know I'm not alone in this, but it seems like the last month of the school year fairly zings on by, but this year has been worse than most. I've attended umpteen soccer games (is it rotten of me to admit that I almost cried tears of joy when Savannah's soccer coach sadly announced that they wouldn't be making up any of the games that were cancelled because of snow?), three retirement parties, doctors and dentist appointments, school appointments, school races, birthday parties, found homes for 3 kittens, and oh yeah, officially became a mother-in-law, all while working my normal 40-hour-week and feeding real meals to my family!

There have been many things that have happened, but honestly, I'm so tired at this point I can't remember most, but I'll at least give some of the highlights.

May is the month for birthdays of three of my most favorite and treasured people: my Aunt Lois (who turned the big 5-0), my daughter Savannah, and one of my best-girl's, Dawn, whom I've been friends with since 5th grade (let's just say that was quite a few years ago!).


A few weekends ago I scored MAJOR cool-mommy points by taking Savannah to see the new Hannah Montana movie. I have to say that I dreaded going more than the last root-canal I suffered through, but I was pleasantly surprised. The movie was really mostly decently done, without all the horrible canned laughter and lame jokes that the TV show has, and really had a good message to little idol-driven kids about remaining true to family and friends. And I have to say that I really like the "Hoedown Throwdown" song. Who knew?!!

Our family celebrated the whole Memorial Day weekend by re-shingling one-half of our poor, rotting roof. In the pouring rain. With lightning, although I was finally able to talk the boys into a retreat from the roof when I reminded them that I personally know two people who have been struck by lightning. With our luck, those are just not good odds in our favor! The weather turned sunny on Monday, and we were able to finish up around 3:00 p.m., just in time to barbecue a few steaks with friends who had helped us before we all collapsed from exhaustion. In between helping with the roofing (I was the shingle cutting girl - at least I have a fall-back skill now if I ever lose my job!), I spent hours weeding my little garden spot, trying to prepare it for the many tomato plants that are waiting to be planted, washing and folding laundry, doing the dishes, and feeding all of us so that we had steam enough to keep going. Needless to say, I started off this week feeling completely exhausted, and I still haven't caught up!

Josh and his lovely bride Jess tied the knot on Friday, May 22nd in a small ceremony with their Pastor in Tennessee (Woo-Hoo!!! We love you guys!) and then spent their honeymoon weekend moving into their new home (which I haven't seen yet, because **cough**cough**, Josh won't ever send pictures!). They will be coming home for a visit mid-June before Josh leaves for Iraq in July.

To top it off, Savannah's birthday was this past Saturday, and she turned the ancient age of 10. My baby is 10! The big 1-0. Double Digits. And yes, we celebrated by doing the roof. To be fair and to prove I'm not quite the world's worst mother, I did let her have a sleepover with a friend on Friday night. They stayed up until 3:30 a.m. fueled by pizza and Mountain Dew before finally crashing, only to wake up again at 7:00 a.m. Let's just say that she was a teensy-weensy bit ornery by about 1:00 p.m., so much so that I finally made my newly-minted 10-year-old baby go take a nap, just like in the old days!

Anyway, it has been my intent to do a special "birthday" post for all of the kids on their birthday, but with the month I've had, I just can't do it justice, at least not yet. So, I promise to write my "all about Savannah" blog this weekend, but in the meantime, I'm going to bed! In looking back at it all, it's no wonder my head is spinning (gotta love that Meniere's too...)

Welcome summer! (Doesn't it look like we're having fun here? Well, at least Evan was... :-) )

Lien On Me or "Can They Really Do That?!!"

In early December of last year, several people in the small town we live in had some problems with their water lines. In the midst of fixing these problems, they (the town bigwigs) decided to update the aging pipelines while they were at it. I left for work one day with the street in front of and to the east of us surrounded by equipment and guys in hard hats working away at replacing said pipe. Later that same day, when I returned home, there was a small pyramid of pipe placed near the edge of the road on the eastern-most side of our property. It wasn't bothering us any, so we never said anything. After all, it was on top of snow and the job was going to be done soon.

Zoom ahead to mid-February. I made my weekly jaunt to pick up the mail and was mildly concerned when I found a notice of a "certified letter" in the stack. I don't know about you, but whenever I've received mail I've had to sign for, it is NEVER the long-awaited Publisher's Clearinghouse notice that I've won a million dollars, or notice of some long-lost relative who's left all their earthly belongings to me. No, in MY household, certified letter always means one thing: T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

I mentally racked my brain to think of all our bills - had I forgotten to pay one for months on end? Don't think so... The last few years have been banner ones for racking up family medical bills, but I'd been paying on all of those, so I knew it couldn't be that. Hmmm.... Well, I guess I'd better just see what it is.

I ran into the main post office area and signed for the thing, pretty certain it couldn't be anything bad: NOTICE OF MECHANIC'S LIEN read the fancy lettering at the top. What's that? I've got my own mechanic, thank you very much. I even sleep with him, so I don't think he'd be suing me! I read further. "Blah, blah, blah... owed by S_*#Head and Sons, Inc., Blah, blah, blah... Lien placed against homeowners at (insert our names and address) owe $8000 plus "reasonable" attorneys fees, blah, blah, blah...

Right about there my heart stopped beating for a long moment, then my blood pressure shot through the roof. You have got to be kidding me!!!! After I'd calmed myself down, I called the "information" number listed at the bottom. Obviously there had to be some mistake as we hadn't had ANY work done on the house for many years, and we'd paid fully for everything ever done. The charming "lady" I spoke with on the phone had all the personality of Atilla the Hun - she obviously relished her job of sticking it to innocent people and wouldn't even pretend to care about the situation. She explained to me that the lien was placed against us because that was the "physical address" where the pipeline for the city's project was delivered. It didn't matter that WE didn't order the pipeline, or even that it didn't get buried in our yard, or even our side of the street. "That's where we delivered it, so basically tough #$*( for you. Have a nice life."

So, long story long (as is always the case with me!), we've spent the last several MONTHS of our life trying to get this seemingly obvious mistake cleared off of our names. Who'da thunk it would be so hard? After numerous phone calls back and forth between us and the mayor, the mayor and the company, the mayor and the recorder's office, and Tom and the company AGAIN because they still hadn't removed it like they said they would, and Tom and our lawyer, it has finally been taken care of.

A good friend of mine at work gave me a sign for my bulletin board a while back that simply reads "Because nice matters." I've tried to use it as a reminder to myself of who and what I really am (really, just ask me!), even if I occasionally have to deal with "not-so-nice" people. However, after this experience, I think I've learned a new lesson: the next time anyone so much as places a piece of paper on my property, I'm going to call the police and have them arrested for trespassing. But I'll at least do it with a smile...

Now we just wait to see if it's hit our credit rating, otherwise we're off to battle again. Ackkk!

May 13, 2009

Better, even, than flowers

The last time that Tom sent me flowers was roughly 13 years ago, back in that first magical year of marriage. We were living in the first of many small towns we would inhabit; a town filled with many inbred colorful characters. The local high school in said town held fundraiser after fundraiser throughout the school year; I swear every-other-week. Unfortunately, this small-town school was not known for being imaginative, so they used the same fundraising idea over and over and over and… Yeah, you get the idea.

Anyway, being a newly-married man in love, every time one of these students' came into his shop peddling their "One Dozen Long-Stemmed Roses – Only $5.99!" fliers, Tom would pony up his six Washington's and place his order. I know, I probably sound heartless: What woman wouldn't love to receive a dozen long-stemmed red roses every couple of weeks? Well, as it turns out, this woman… but I had a valid reason! Even though it was so many years ago, $5.99 for a dozen roses was extremely cheap, even then. Add to that fact that this was a fund-RAISER, presumably meaning that the company supplying the roses actually MADE enough profit to give money back to the school, and you can probably get a pretty good picture in your head as to what these babies looked like. So long as they were prostrate in their pretty pink box they looked fairly decent, but when you attempted to revive them by placing them in a vase full of water, you've never seen such a sight. The term "limp noodle" doesn't begin to do it justice!

Anyway, after receiving about seven or eight of these depressing packages, I begged Tom to go easy on the flowers, to maybe give it a rest for "a while." And so he has honored my wishes for 13 long, flower-barren years! I have explained to him many times in the last 5-10 years that I hadn't meant that I didn't EVER want flowers again – I just didn't want DEAD ones. But to no avail. I know that he loves me, and I don't need flowers to prove it, but there are those days (and ladies, you know what I mean) when a bouquet of beautiful flowers would just go SO far to make you feel loved and cherished.

This weekend, however, Tom proved his love to me in a more meaningful way than flowers ever could. If ever I doubted the depths of his feelings, those worries have now been laid to rest. The proof? He voluntarily cleaned up doggie puke for me. And not just any dog puke, but a virtual mountain of stinky, steaming-fresh Stitch reflux.

Now normally when one of the dogs has an accident of any shape or size, I hear cries of "Mom!" or "Honey!" I don't know when or how it became my job, but I learned years ago that if I want it cleaned up right, I'd better plug my nose, roll up my sleeves, and get to it. Yesterday, I heard Tom's horrified shouts as he herded Stitch out the front door, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that he had reached him too late. I dragged myself out of the bedroom, psyching myself up to handle whatever awaited me. On a brief side note – why, why, why do dogs always choose the carpet when there is nice, easy, cleanable hard floor a mere 3 inches away?! But I digress…

This LOVING, SWEET, STUD of a husband had beaten me to it! I watched in awe as he tackled the pile with a dust pan and paper towels. My heart went pitter-pat as he rushed, gagging, out of the house to the garbage dumpster, face turning bright red. And again as he and Evan cleaned and scrubbed the rug he had puked on. Sigh….

HE LOVES ME!! HE REALLY, REALLY LOVES ME!!! What more can I say?

April 27, 2009

Our Steamy Weekend Alone – Part 2

So Saturday morning, we rolled out of bed at the crack of 10:00 (honestly – I got up at 8:00 a.m., but the better half was still snoring away which explains why I got up so early on a weekend!) and managed to get the trailer packed and out of the driveway a little after noon. About 2 miles from home I realized that we had forgotten to bring food for Annie (the dog, not to be confused with Annie, Evan's girlfriend). I had also assumed (incorrectly) that the trailer was pre-stocked with kitchenware, which it had been at one point, to feed and water her from. Tom, as anxious as I to get out of town, insisted that we would stop somewhere on the way to buy her food. We drove an hour and stopped at a Burger King in Preston, Idaho to have lunch. As we rolled into town, I suggested we stop at the grocery there to make our purchase, but Tom wanted to press on. So on we went!

As soon as we hit the road again, the wind, which had been fairly annoying before, kicked into high gear. You don't know fun until you've towed a trailer through gusting cross-winds – it was very exciting! We finally rolled into Lava Hot Springs, population 486, around 4:00 p.m. After an accidental drive-by of the town's off-ramp, we eventually found a place to get turned around and headed for the motel/RV camp that I had reserved. Tom set up the trailer while I stood by as camp supervisor. When the time came to hook up the water, we discovered two things. First, in addition to the missing dog food and dishes to feed her from, we had also neglected to bring the hose to pipe water into the trailer. Off to the over-priced store we went, where we were able to purchase everything we needed, albeit at horrendously high prices. Second, once we had the hose, we discovered the RV park did not yet have the outside water hook-ups turned on from winter. The nice people running the place ran a hose out one of the motel room windows so that we were able to fill the water tank.

Then, one of the highlights! When the trailer was winterized last fall, apparently we did not get one of the fittings screwed on right, so once we had the water turned on, we REALLY had running water – gushing out all over the kitchen floor from UNDER the sink.

Great.

Long story short, this is the view I had of my husband for most of our weekend alone. He spent two hours on Saturday in this position, mumbling, grunting, and more often than not cursing.

After fixing THIS leak, I talked him into heading across the street to soak and relax in the mineral pools. Tom and I have always had different tolerance levels for heat. I am the type that loves a hot bath, the hotter the better. If I don't look like a cooked lobster when done, it wasn't hot enough. Tom, on the other hand, can put his foot in tepid water, and leap back from the pain of it all. He stepped into the pool and immediately moved into extreme slow-motion, oo-oo-oohing his way further in. Being the sensitive, loving wife that I am, I called him a big baby and told him to put a move on. Until I got in. Holy Hannah was it hot! Too hot for me, and that's really saying something. "Never fear!" I said, "the other pool is much cooler. Let's move over there." So off we went, climbing into what I had remembered as being a much cooler pool. But guess what? It was just as hot as the other. We managed to spend an hour at the pools so that we could feel like we at least got our money's worth, then we took our slip-skinned selves and went to dinner at a cute little place in town. A place that was sold out of the shrimp I was craving, as well as the scones that were supposed to come with the meal and which I was lusting after since seeing them on the menu. In the meantime, Tom got more and more quiet – turns out that the extreme heat of the pools made him sicker than a dog.

Back to the trailer we went. It didn't take long for exhaustion to overtake us both, so we went to turn in for the night. But guess what ELSE we had forgotten? Tom's sleeping pills, which he needs because of his screwed up neck and back. After much more cursing and thrashing around, he finally fell asleep at 3:00 a.m. Unfortunately, the bed in the trailer is like sleeping on a rock (not even a smooth one, but a knobby one that rolls you in unwelcome directions), so I finally got up and moved to the bunk one of the kids' usually sleeps in. Just as I finally got to sleep, an apparent convoy of trains came chugging through the valley, laying on their horns for a minimum of 10 miles both before and after. Needless to say, it was a LOOONNNGGG night, possibly the longest I've ever had.

The next morning, we woke up later than planned, but still had time to go off to breakfast. EXCEPT that the water pump was now making weird sounds. Back under the sink he went for another hour. Water pump fixed, just in time for me to hurriedly wash my hair and then it was time to check out and move on! We ended up eating Easter breakfast (at 1:00 p.m.) at a truck stop on the freeway.

On the bright side, the way back was blissfully less windy, and we did stop to take pictures at Red Rock Pass, the site where ancient Lake Bonneville broke through and drained out onto the Snake River Plain. It wasn't the dream weekend I was hoping for by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we'll be able to look back and laugh about it years from now. At least that's what I'm telling myself. And I managed to withhold my "I TOLD you so" until we were safely home!

April 21, 2009

Our Steamy Weekend Alone, Part 1

This past week was the kids' spring break, so Joshy (as Savannah calls her big, tough-guy, Special Forces brother) flew all three of them to Tennessee to spend four days with him and Jess. Woo hoo! Four whole days without any small fries or sweaty teens underfoot! Whatever would we do?

Well, as luck would have it, the kids flew out on a Friday. I took the day off work to take them to the airport and ship them off, but Tom had to work all day, so really we had 3 whole days alone. Okay, that's still pretty good… Their plane was scheduled to fly in late (and I do mean LATE!) on Monday night. Oh, but wait… We both have to work on Monday. Ah well, that still left us two entire days to be footloose and fancy free!

All week long leading up to the big break, we daydreamed about where we would go and what we would do to celebrate our freedom fill the void that would be left in our lives with the kids gone. Tom mentioned a road trip to Dillon, MT, a trip we took the last time we took a fun weekend away, roughly TEN years ago. I was all for a road trip, and any time I get to head north to my Idaho roots, even if it's just passing through, I'm a happy girl. But, why go where you've already been? Why not take the opportunity to explore uncharted territory? While waiting for Tom to arrive home late Friday, I wandered cyberspace and Google Maps, plotting our journey, checking weather forecasts, and finding a cozy, little suite (with a gas log fireplace in our room) in a beautiful little Idaho town that I've always wanted to visit. I had my speech all prepared and was sure I could successfully argue my case.

But he was not to be persuaded. After arriving home at almost 9 p.m., the last thing my dear hubby wanted to do was wake up early the next morning to drive 5 or more hours to a place that's still almost 20 degrees colder than we are (I say as I watch snow piling up outside the window YET AGAIN), only to turn around the next morning and drive all the way back. I begged, I pleaded, I gave an eloquent speech about the joy being in the journey, but to no avail. His next best plan? Let's take our camp trailer and go stay at a campsite in Mantua, conveniently located right off the main highway 20 minutes from home. Wouldn't that be fun?!!! I countered with just renting a hotel room anywhere, so we didn't have to deal with loading the trailer, hauling it somewhere, spending forever setting it up, getting it leveled, yada, yada, yada…

"Let's just relax" said I. "Every time we take the trailer, it takes up precious time that we could be using to enjoy other things."

Here I need to insert a side note: For YEARS upon YEARS, I have tried to talk Tom into going to Lava Hot Springs, a quaint little town in southeastern Idaho that has mineral pools which are so wonderful for soaking life's cares away, but he has always refused to go. Once he decides he doesn't want to do something, you might as well give it up, because you are NEVER going to convince him otherwise. I swear that "Stubborn" is his middle name, although he will tell you that I am the stubborn one. Anyway, I didn't even dare suggest it as I'd lost that particular battle too many times before.

"Hey!" he says… "How far away is that Lava Hot Springs? Let's go there."

Great idea honey! So glad you thought of it J… I'll get us a room. But no, he didn't want a room; he still wanted to haul the trailer and set up camp. Fine… Whatever! We're going to Idaho.

TO BE CONTINUED…

April 15, 2009