COUNTING BLESSINGS

BRING COLOR INTO LIFE

I cant stop thinking about color.  It is another great puzzle in my life.  Yesterday I went to buy a set of cubes to sit beside my chair.  I am painting a lot of little things, for miniatures,sitting in my living room chair at night.  I found myself in a red space. Sorta.  After some time I did find a set of cubes.  I had a choice: dark brown, black, or white.  I looked for the boxes that go into the cubes.  I found black, tan, soft lime, soft aqua and pink. The colors were muted. I then spent the next hour in Target looking for color. My living space is made of yellows and I wanted more perky.  Everywhere I went women's clothes, towels, curtains, rugs..... shades of diaper brown, white, cream, black and gray. 

I stopped an unsuspecting clerk and chatted about my observation.  She was about nineteen and decided to explain it to me.  I was, of course on my borrowed target scooter, my hair all white, no tattoos(yet), and  no piercings except in my ears properly.  She had decided that I could not hear, needed a very loud voice, and that I only came out of my haunt when i could be let out by my caretakers.  I do like to open a dialog with unsuspecting people and watch them walk away shaking their heads.  I have plenty of time and I know they must listen to me.  Gives me great sport.

She told me that , today, most people didn't use color in their house.  They simply used the "neutrals"  and only occasionally put in a splash of muted color. She seemed so assured.  I asked her why?   It took a few minutes because I do believe that critical thinking was way above her pay grade. I knew I should move on.  I had already said enough. I had caused enough psychological damage.  I could sense that she couldn't wait for break to describe this long encounter with the old gray fool.  I do not act in this way when my family is with me. Their embarrassment is quite severe.

I left still in a quandary.  It brought me back to my move from my condo in Raleigh when the realtor told me that the place would never sell with my beautiful brass fixtures (they needed to be brushed metal of a grayish color) and the beautiful yellow walls must take on a neutral color and my carpets should be removed and off white or neutral be put in.  I could never make a point that my house was furnished in colonial hence the brass, and yellow made me happy.

I decided to search and find out why we are so much in a colorless/muted place.  I found one source gave these enlightenment's.  It seems to simply come down to political correctness .  Seems we need to make sure when we wish to sell our places, entertain in them, or have our children or guests feel comfortable, we need to maintain NEUTRALITY. We try not to be offensive.  I guess I did lie to you when I said I was not being political today. 

Help me understand why.... Why we are leaning toward neutrality.

Let me share some color with you....

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. - Pablo Picasso

While perceptions of color are somewhat subjective, there are some color effects that have universal meaning. Colors in the red area of the color spectrum are known as warm colors and include red, orange and yellow. These warm colors evoke emotions ranging from feelings of warmth and comfort to feelings of anger and hostility. Colors on the blue side of the spectrum are known as cool colors and include blue, purple and green. These colors are often described as calm, but can also call to mind feelings of sadness or indifference.

 Lets whoop up on the color in our lives.  Lets feel the emotions of color.  Lets take chances.   We may end up poor,and not emotionally safe. That is what gives us a vital life.

The Blog is Back

The Blog is Back !!!

Today is April 9, 2012.  I have not posted in many months and find it is time again to begin again.  My journals and other projects seem to come and go.  It is an election year and I think I will document my thoughts about this process. I do feel an obligation to say a few things about myself.  There are some of you who do not know that I am and old lady of years, 1935 was a good year. I am older than most trees and younger than almost all rocks.

 I have had some life experiences that will color what I say.  I grew up with my grandparents and learned the values of the depression and old time religion.  I lived in a time that men were drafted and came back ready to face life.  I marched with Martin Luther King in the fifties, I demonstrated in the seventies for women's rights, and I worked on electing Obama.  I spent three years in Saudi Arabia and traveling to ten countries most were Islamic. I taught cross cultural survival, Shari'a law as it applies to health care, and management in a multi cultural setting.  I traveled in all states surveying or consulting in over 700 hospitals.  My thoughts and beliefs, politically, are based on my experiences.  We are all prisoners of our own experiences.  I will remain a prisioner unless you help me escape.

I am quite distressed that many people, even most people, cannot discuss politics without it being arguing.  I learned very early in my educational life (in high school in Louise Smith's senior English class and virtually ever class at Duke), that healthy exchange of ideas and beliefs is one of the things that made this country great.  It was the one thing that made us so different from many other civilizations. Being able to hear someone else in intellectual exchange is what makes me great. We do not seem to be able to do this anymore.  We have become so POLITICALLY CORRECT that we cannot even talk to our own folks about the issues.  Seems people are so afraid that they will offend they remain silent.  Now here comes my favorite quote....

“The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in times of great moral crises maintain their neutrality”. Dante

This quote has been paraphrased by many.  Substituting the word SILENCE for neutrality.  But you get the point.  Most of the silence is based on fear.  That others will take it out on us.  They wont continue to be our friend.  The list goes on.  It is a sad time when there are those who are actually afraid for their life.  To me the scariest thing in the world is limiting my freedom of speech.

Of course, we must all be responsible when we hold forth with our opinions.  We must to the best of our ability search for truth and talk in truths as we know them.  Being responsible in regard to our facts, to me,  means that if you watch Fox you must also watch MSNBC.  If you listen to Rush you must also listen to Michael Moore.  If you think that a certain person would be a good president, then you have knowledge of their values and abilities. You must seek out the news  on PBS, Al Jazeera ,BBC, as well as the ones we know so well.  You must have read the Bible and the Koran if you want to tell others what either of them teach.

My blog has turned the corner to seriousness, controversy and generally stirring shit.  It will hopefully be enjoyed by folks of all ages.  I would love to see the set-in-their-ways people to get un-sot.  I will promise to offend all of you and every politician.  Every post will not be political, some may just be nonsense.

Things to Think Upon...for today.

http://www.linktv.org/  

SARASOTA WARMTH

We start out as a simple human being.
We have a very small circle, very few knots have been tied. Then as life moves on we weave our maze of relationships. Family, friends, aquaintences.... they make us who we are and we make them who they are.


I have not posted much in the last month or so.  My discipline left me for a while.  Traveling, visiting my sister and friends in Raleigh, traveling on to  Florida to visit my neice  Susan and her partner, and I fall into bed each night with a sense of warmth and love from so many people.  As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about the people in my life and how much they mean to me.  I am limiting my comments to Sarasota.

The Household Rulers

To little time with Auntie

When we arrived in Sarasota, the home of my Suze (neice), I added to my complex maze of people a wonderful new person AND HERS.  She is Suze's partner.  I felt very included and was brought into their circle with warmth and love.  Then we had a family dinner and I met her mother, her Aunt,KIDS, Dad... her past ..... All I could do was to think of how blessed we are each day. We never know how that new person will enhance our life whether it be for a second or two, or for the rest of your life.

Melissa and Dad

I was also drawn to think about people who dread family things.  Dread having to spend time with parents and other relatives.  It made me so sad that so many folks find that the time they spend with family is a duty, boring or worse yet tedious and paintful.  How wonderful it is to be able to enjoy fully FAMILY as individuals and as a group.

Laney gives us Inspiraton



Melissa is Hiding her Mom

 Each time you are together you learn new things about people you know so well.  My sister is with me on the trip and I have learned more about her after all these years. She takes care of my needs and is so attentative.  This morning she woke me to let me know food was on the table, demonstrating caring. That is such a simple thing, but caring is shown in simple ways.  My neice provided food.  I didn't know she was such a good cook.  Yesterday and today I was made aware of her caring for us all.

Josh

When you enter a new home and take a deep breath as you are automatically faced with impressions.  Here there is a feeling of comfort, acceptance and love.  You can feel it.  Some places you go, into some homes, there is a sense of uneasiness.  Will you break something, do all the things you should, and will you meet all the expectations.  Not so here.  You are accepted, with all your faults, disabilities, and unique personality.  Thanks Suze for choosing a wonderful partner.

Laneys' Wonderful Smile

In this new home there are children.  You can tell so much by watching and interacting with the children.  The openess, participation and concern that are reflected through the honesty of children cannot be faked.  Thanks Suze for sharing this wonderful little folks with me.

Molly says, "Is this toxic>"

Mother Melissa and Son Josh 



Mother Suze and Son Jamie



<>

Extended Family Relaxing



SPRINGTIME TRIP SOUTH

Leaving Snowy 7205 Timber Lane , Olmsted Falls Ohio

I am told that one of the most important things to any Blog writer, or any writer.... is to sit down every day and write.  Discipline they call it.  Since I have very little of the D word I have not been engaged in my Blog activity for over a month.  I am back.  I hope to do more writing .  Just a refresher.  I am writing this blog to allow my daughter and my grandson, and anyone else that is interested, to jump into my life.  My past, my present and what I am dreaming about for the future.  It is a political commentary.  It tells of my bias.  I hope you enjoy the strange thoughts of a old crone.

I left cold,icy, slippery and grey Olmsted Falls on February 17, 2011.  I was lucky and drove all the way to Raleigh with no misadventures.  I could feel the warming every mile I drove.  It seems kinda risky as I look back, I had had major surgery on the 7th.  But it was by laproscope and nada issues , so why not?   Alyce was off on Friday and the weekend was upon us.  The very first thing was a meeting at Jason's Deli with the Kindle Girls.  It was so good to see both Nancy and Barbara.  We didn't talk a lot about books, but did manage to report of a few we had read.   My visit with Jane Brown, friends since 1960, was so deeply wonderful that there will be more of it later.

Two Craddock Women...Jean (right) and daughter Lynn

I was able  to have a long visit with the Thompsons --Jean and  Bill. Lynn and her son joined us at Wilburs Barbecue.  I was treated to a great meal as usual.  It was wonderful to be with them and hear about family.  Wish she and Lynn could have been with us in Raleigh at the family Craddock Women of NC..get together at Gail Craddocks.

Bill, Jean's hubby,looking like Kenny Rogers...at Wilburs




NORTH CAROLINA BARBCUE..OMG

 I rested and spent the next week warming up and catching up in Raleigh.  I know why one should write every day ... the details of those two weeks before we started to Florida are very sketchy.    We packed the car and started or trip on March 5.  We drove straight through to Sarasota and it was a very pleasant day.  Alyce and I took turns.  She didn't use to help drive, but does now.  That was terrific. My nephew Jeff was the backbone of the trip.  He helped and helped and helped.  His presence as a traveling companion cannot be touted enough.  Jeff, THANK YOU.

Arrival in Sarasota was so warm and wonderful.  Meeting Susans' new family was a treat.  Melissa is warm, loving and really a great person.  Her children  Laney and Josh were a positive force in the house.  They are terrific kids.  Whoever said that the younger generation is going downhill just don't know what they are really like.  These two are so bright and loving.   Well, they take after their Mom, what can I say.  The hospitality was outstanding.  I did not know that Susan was such a good cook!! More Later.

Melissa and Son, Josh  So Handsome!

Laney...Girls are Wonderful!

Special Art by Laney

I took off for places even further south.  Visiting my long time friend Alice Parrish is always wonderful and this visit was no different.  She entertained me grandly.  I envy her lovely house so much.  It boasts a guest house where I got so much rest!  I really guess I may have traveled a little earlier than I should have after the surgery so by the time I got there I was really exhausted.  I slept late every day.  When I pulled myself off the most comfortable bed I have slept in in years, I was served the most yummy  grapefruit juice ever. Much more later about this wonderful friend and visit.

  Alice brings in grapefruit from the tree (she planted the tree when she first moved in, it had been a houseplant for years.)   She puts it into the refrigerator a few days before using and squeezes the fruit right before serving.  Yummmmm   We spent time with Stel and Ed.  Each have lost a mate in the two weeks prior to my getting there.  I felt so sad for them.  But we laughed and ate together.  It is fun to get to see the real part of Florida and not the tourist part. I have a blog dedicated to Alice and will post it soon.

Back to Sarasota for a few days.  More good food, outings to include picnicking and quilt showing, was next on the agenda.  Meeting Melissa's mom and Aunt was a treat as well as spending time with them.  I just regret that it was such a short time.  I really enjoyed them and feel like I have made new friends.   We left early in the morning of the 12th and had a long tedious trip.  We decided to go through Atlanta and that made our trip a two day one.  All three of us were zombies when we pulled into Raleigh. 

Seaside Club, Wilmington A Very old Vintage Place

Dermas beloved Wilmington Home

I took off again for Wilmington and a visit with my friend Derma.  She has a lovely home with a carriage house.  Again, I was treated like royalty.  Her home is the most comfortable place you can imagine.  We talked nonstop and ran here and there.  She shared with me her friends and I feel that I have made some friendships of my own that will last a long time.  These women, Marie, Vivian, and Carol were so knowledgeable and engaged.  I so wish I had friends like that in Ohio.  Derma is a really lucky woman and deservedly so.  Marie and Carol are nurses, Vivian a teacher and Meredith graduate.  I wanted to talk all night.

Vicki and Carol   Two Craddock Ladies... More Later

Back to Raleigh for a a weeks rest before starting back.  I have had the pleasure of meeting again my relative, Gary Hayden (one of the Grands of the Craddock brothers).  Gail Craddock, my cousin, is the best organizer.  She did the first family get to gather when I first got to Raleigh.  Craddock Ladies of North Carolina.  We were the granddaughters of the Craddock Brothers.  Her North Hills  house has been the site of our gettogethes.  We were missing the two Jeans.  Jean Craddock the granddaughter of Bernie and Jean Craddock Thompson., the granddaughter of Versa. We were also missing Betty Ray Hankins the granddaughter of Cecil.  Her hubby, Clarence, (I was in her wedding) died just a few weeks ago.

This week will find me having dinner with Gail and Nancy, , attending an event at Christ Church on Wednesday, doing a workshop with Sharon at Jerry's on Thursday, and going Chicky looking at the feed store in Pittsboro on Friday.  On Sunday, I will   travel to Salem Virginia to spend a yet undetermined amount of time with Betty Ray, my.cousin.  I hope to have lunch and visit with another cousin, Betsy Ray Wrenn Groseclose, and a college friend while I am there. 

This may become a yearly thing.  No one wants to come to Cleveland, so I guess the only alternative is to come south.  Not that I am complaining. 

I did not get to see or spend time with special special people.  That is my sadness.  Time takes away our freedom by impairing our body or our mind.  This is so painful to me.  The people who have meant so much to me in my life are so missed.  When it is impossible to touch them, to hold them, and to tell them how much I love and miss them. my sadness is almost overwhelming.  No one told me that it would hurt so much.



A LOVE STORY MAKES YOUR HEART SING

I read this recently and recalled my visit to the Ghetto.  My feeling when I was simply riding through in a tour bus was shivering.  I cannot imagine how it would have been to actually live there. I was in Poland doing a project for USAID and meeting the people and seeing the places made my heart really cry.  Just think in the midst of all the horror, love wins.

My posting tonight, however, is really in honor of my friend who is helping a couple with many memories like this one, spend their last days on earth.  She has for years honored them as her friends with a heart as big as the heart of the little girl.  I respect you and am glad to call you friend!

A Girl With An Apple

(This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling Herman Rosenblat. He was Bar Mitzvahed at age 75)
August 1942. Piotrkow , Poland .
The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. 'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me,'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen.I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker.An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones, and then asked my age 'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children,sick and elderly people.I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?'He didn't answer.

I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her  'No, 'she said sternly.'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.'She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood:She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once,she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.
My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany ..We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued
uniforms and identification numbers. 'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983.'I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead  into a hand-cranked elevator.I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number.Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald ' sub-camps near Berlin ..One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice.'Son,' she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an angel.Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream.But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work And hunger. And fear
.A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light,almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. 'Do you have something to eat?' She didn't understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life.She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day.She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or,better yet, an apple.We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both.I didn't know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name?  Why was she risking her life for me  Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.  Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia  'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.'

I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say  good-bye to the little girl whose name I'd never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed.On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM.  In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death  seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over.I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited. But at 8 A .M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people  running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers.Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open  Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival.  In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none.  My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.  Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a  Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America , where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Armyduring the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years

By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop.I was starting to settle in.One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me.'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.'A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me.But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the
Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma.I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island . Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too!
We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time  We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat.
As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?''The camps,' I said. The terrible memories still vivid, t he irreparable loss..I had tried to forget. But you can never forget
She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany ,not far from Berlin ,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest,and he got us Aryan papers.'I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were both survivors, in a new world.'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.'What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy.'What did he look like? I asked.'He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.' My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it  This couldn't be.'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?'Roma looked at me in amazement. 'Yes!'
'That was me!'
I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions.
I couldn't believe it! My angel.'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait
'You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week.
There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go.That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.
Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach , Florida

This story is being made into a movie called The Fence.

MY TRIP TO EGYPT -- MEMORIES

Our Ship

Me at Pyramids...

In the fall of 2001  my friend Pat and I decided to do the trip of a lifetime.  We boarded a cruise ship from the Renaissance Line, now the Oceania Line, in Hong Kong and in 48 days landed in Athens.

Our Trip



 There are many memories, but for this entry, I wish to concentrate on our stop in Egypt.   I will just briefly set the stage regarding the ship.  We were on the sixth floor and had a stern room.  There were only four rooms on that end of the ship;  two small ones and two owners; suites.  Our room was so outstanding because we viewed the ports of all the cities we visited as we departed.  I did a set of these pictures and if I find them, I will share them.



Map of Canal and Port Said



We traveled through the Suez canal to the Port Said.  When we arrived, Pat and I decided to take the tour to the Pyramids.  We had taken the opportunity to do this on all of the ports of call and we were especially excited .  The trip required a rather long, about three hours, if I remember correctly, ride from the ship to the tourist site.  We drove through the city of Cairo, listened to our  guide as he explained where we were, visited the museum of Egyptian Antiquities, the Pyramids, and the Sphinx. 

Tourist Bus

When we boarded the bus, both of us almost got off and went back to the ship.  We were preceded by two heavily armed escorts.  Not only did they have automatic weapons, but were laden down with sidearms.  There were two of them in the back of the bus, and two in the front.  Scary.  One faced us, the other faced the front of the bus.  Not only did we have those folks on board, but we were escorted by jeeps, guards, and  that were very armed.  I repeat, yes, we were frightened but before we could decide we were on our way.

Military Escort

The museum was absolutely wonderful.  Some of the items were labeled so we could read, but mostly the explanation was in Arabic.  We then began the trip to the Pyramids.   We passed through what is thought to be one of the most destitute of slums and the guard gave much history.  Apparently this has existed since before Christ. 

As soon as we arrived we were bombarded with vendors and people wanting to take us on special trips through the pyramids.  The tiny door and even smaller steps discouraged us and we did not venture into them.  We did spend an hour or more wandering around the site dreaming of the centuries and the people who had walked before us.  We also declined a ride on a camel.  I had that experience in Petra and it was not one that I wanted to repeat.

Pyramids and Sphinx

We boarded the bus, dusty and tired, to return to the luxury of our ship.  As luck would have it, less than an hour outside the Pyramids, on our way back to Cairo, our bus broke down.  It was not our favorite time to watch the soldiers guarding us while the bus was repaired.  I cannot remember if we had another bus or if they fixed ours.... but it took far too long for comfort.

My one souvenir



It was dark when we returned to our state room and dropped from exhaustion.  It had been a lifetime goal to see what we had seen that day!   I have no desire to return.  Although it was in the fall the temperature was in the hundreds many days.



Museum Then.......



 Today?  I am watching the square with such interest.  The police that we encountered were polite and appeared very competent.  When it was reported that the military had pointed the guns away from the crowds and the palace, it appeared to be a statement of neutrality.  That gave me much hope.  At this moment in time, it appears that they have taken the role of guardian.  I am praying this is so and that the Egyptian people can feel the freedom that I have my entire life.  It is prophetic that the one thing I brought home was a crafty scarab.  My favorite meaning is Transformation.




 



Now