Currently listening to Ray LaMontagne:

Shelter

I guess you don't need it
I guess you don't want me to repeat it
But everything I have to give I'll give to you
It's not like we planned it
You tried to stay, but you could not stand it
To see me shut down slow
As though it was an easy thing to do
Listen when
All of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me, my love
And I will shelter you
I will shelter you
I left you heartbroken, but not until those very words were spoken
Has anybody ever made such a fool out of you
It's hard to believe it Even as my eyes do see it
The very things that make you live are killing you
Listen when all of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me, my love
I will shelter you
Listen when
All of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me, my love
I will shelter you
If you shelter me too
I will shelter you

LaMontagne has a chilled, laid back sound--the CD Trouble is very well produced. His voice has a gravelly quality, and yet a quiet lyricism. Thank you Lindsey (and vicariously, Lee) for the introduction.

Currently reading:
Jane Eyre (yes, still plugging away):
I am really getting into the story, and I would love to have a day to just read and read until I finished. I'm especially looking forward to that climactic moment when everything resolves itself--the denoument is always my favorite moment, and one can only truly experience that exalting feeling of knowing the first time through the story. There's a different satisfaction the second, third, and fourth times, but that first time... nothing quite like it. I know how Jane Eyre ends, but the language, the way Bronte will work it out is keeping me eagerly anticipating.

Taste and See
John Piper's book of short mediations is serving as a quiet time resource for me these days. I'm still about half-way through Desiring God, and I started it probably two years ago. These short essays are slightly more digestable bites that still stick with me throughout the day, not unlike the chili I had earlier this week. Sorry--bad visual.

Currently thinking about:

• Guys (or should I say guy? We'll go with guy for Tom's sake.)
• The sovereignty of God
• Whether or not I should accept the offer to cantor at a local Catholic church on occasional Saturdays
• How long I can wait before I need to abandon the computer for the bathroom
• How cool my roommate is
• I really like this Ray LaMontagne guy

I don't know how many of you out there in blogland are fans of the new Emergent Church, but if you aren't, you should check out this page! Even if you are emerging, you should learn to laugh at yourself a little, or at least at the inherent contradictions of some of your leaders. I guess I think people should be more than a little wary of voting for Brian McLaren as New Official Spokesman for evangelicals, and the aforementioned page has some great things to say about postmodern evangelicalism. I particularly enjoy the comments. Some people get pretty heated! (Warning: That Is Not My Blog is rated S for extreme use of sarcasm)

I'm sort of on this tangent lately because of my current Sunday School class about Biblical Ethics. We started off this new quarter by examining postmodernism and modernism, comparing them and evaluating them. It's been very interesting, and I am looking forward to the heated debates that are sure to come! (Can you tell I like it when things get heated? Hmmm... that sounds bad...)

In other news, school is going well. After the Dramatic Encounter of two weeks ago, things have vastly improved. But I will say that it's hard to teach a book that one has never read before, let alone teach three books that one has never read before. It's hard to stay ahead of one's students and to know how to plan for one's classes when one doesn't even know what to expect in the developing plot of the book. Right now, I'm teaching Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and Jane Eyre--all to middle schoolers. Hard to believe, I know, that this well-read, literate English teacher hasn't read Jane Eyre, but it's unfortunately true. Any suggestions on making it through the novel from anyone who's actually read it? What about getting 8th graders to care enough to work through this tough piece of fiction? I mean, Charlotte Bronte is no cake walk.

I played ultimate frisbee for the first time yesterday, and I got really involved, to the point of actually being competitive. I always avoided the game at college because it looked like too much running, and I'm pretty lazy. But there was no way to avoid playing yesterday without looking like an idiot, so I attempted to save face and ended up enjoying myself. What a thought.

I am feeling a little random tonight. Sorry if my ideas are all over the place.

I had my first seriously dramatic encounter with a parent tonight. I have to admit that I'm still a little shaken up over it. I don't think anyone has spoken to me in that way since I was a child. I felt like a child. I felt responsible. Well, I was responsible. I tried to apologize, and eventually the parent calmed down and apologized too. But I've never been put in such a difficult position. In the end, we were all crying--the student, the parent, the teacher--and it felt horrible. But it was resolved, and I felt like God enabled me to handle it with grace. I tried hiding the fact that I was choking up, and I think I was pretty successful, but I bawled afterwards for awhile. It was a huge learning experience, and I hope that I'm a little more stable in similar conversations that will inevitably take place in the future.

I knew that this would happen eventually, and I'm glad that I went through it. But I did not enjoy it at all.

Welcome back to school.

"The godly are designed for unknown and inconceivable happiness."
--Jonathan Edwards

I started reading Taste and See by John Piper this week. He is an Edwards fanatic. The quote above was stated in a sermon by Edwards when he was only twenty years old. Can you imagine understanding such deep levels of theology at twenty? I'm twenty-three and I barely grasp Piper's concept of Christian hedonism.

I decided that right-justified was fun for today.

I've been having this hankering/yen to play catch for the last few days, but so far, I have yet to satiate my desire. At least it's warm enough that there will be future opportunities.

School starts on Tuesday. I'm not extraordinarily thrilled about going back to work, but I think that once I get there, it will be good. There's a work day tomorrow, but I'm trying to avoid thinking about it.

Poems to be written

just get stuck

and refuse to come out.

Desires to be aesthetic

intouch

artsy

are left vanquished

by peanut-butter syndrome

(when it

clings to the roof

of the mouth

making speech

difficult)

no one

understands you

garbled

sticky

stupid.

T minus three hours and eleven minutes...

I'm flying home tonight.

Just thinking about it makes my stomach shiver with anticipation.

It's been six long months.

I hope I haven't built it up so much that I'm disappointed.

Here I come!

This is what my weeks have looked like lately. Pretty crazy. But now I'm sitting at home, just relaxing, not worrying about anything. The first semester is over. I've made it. We put on The Best Christmas Pageant Ever yesterday night and this morning. I was slightly concerned (can I underexaggerate any more?) that things would fail to come together, but praise the Lord, it did! I haven't quite felt such a burst of pride for my students as I did when the curtain (actually a big purple tarp hung up with shower hangers) closed, and the students rushed out to the applause of the audience for their bows. They did a fantastic job, especially for middle schoolers. I feel very satisfied with my first attempts at directing.

Today was our big homeroom Christmas party, and I have to say, I was shocked at my desk, inundated with gifts. I made a list of the presents I received and from whom, and I think I got something from over thirty of my students (out of fifty-some). I have so much candy and cookies--I'm going to have to figure out how to get rid of it other than eating it myself. Probably one of the coolest gifts I got was from a student who loves musicals (she had the lead in the play). She gave me the soundtrack from Wicked. I'm listening to it right now, and it's a lot of fun. Very easy to sing along with. Some amazing singers.

I'm off to see The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in a few minutes. I'm so excited! I've been looking forward to this movie for awhile now. I think my all time favorite out of the Chronicles of Narnia, however, is The Last Battle. The vision of heaven always gives me chills.

La Tour Eiffel

Waterfall in Burnham Wood

I've been working in Photoshop lately, brushing up old prints, having a little fun, and then posting them on my Deviant Art page. I'm also eating peppermint ice cream, which only appears at this magical time of year.

I'm thankful for roommates, sisters, parents, students, single friends, married friends, family friends, accountability partners, grandparents, jobs, apartments, canned goods on sale at Publix, cameras, black and white photos, flowers, cooler temperatures, the Trinity, salvation, continued providence and protection, love, education, books, learning, and post-it notes.

What are you thankful for?

Behold the puffy lips. I ate a mango, and apparently, I'm allergic to them. My lips blew up like I got collagen implants. A couple people actually asked me if I got Botoxed. It was actually pretty painful, because it turned all blistery. I was able to do a really great duck-billed platypus impression for awhile though, which my students thought was pretty funny.

Funny Story. . .

I love it when I can laugh at my students' expense. One of my 7th graders--a tall, overly-developed boy who thinks he's the coolest kid around (most of the 6th graders probably agree with him)--suddenly asked, "What date is it today?" I told him it was the fourteenth, and he smacked his hand into his forehead and said, "Oh man! My eggnog went extinct today!"

Hope Exists

That was probably the main focus of the U2 concert I attended in Miami last night. Up until yesterday, the only things I knew about Miama were from the 2 CSI:Miami episodes I've ever seen, and Will Smith's "Welcome To Miami (Bienvenido a Miami)." Hmm. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I even remember that song (should it even be considered a song?). Anyway.

GREAT CONCERT.

I should also admit that I didn't know for sure that The Edge was actually called The Edge until last night either. I'm not exactly a U2 connesieur. The lighting was pretty amazing, though-- five panels of "beaded" curtains (think like the kind people hung in dorm rooms to feel hippyish, except HUGE), and the "beads" were each individual lights. Each panel was like a big, sophisticated marquis (sp?) with a variety of pictures and patterns. At one point, it looked like women dancing; at another point, it was like a plane flying from panel to panel. I really enjoyed the music, and gained a significant appreciation for Bono's voice. To sing the way he does for the number of years that he has, and to still have such range and flexibility is incredible. I think one of my favorite numbers was "Miss Sarejevo"--he sang the Italian part originally performed by Pavoratti, and he did a fantastic job.

There were a lot of Christian overtones to the show--lots of references to grace, belief in the power of the cross, and of course, Bono passionately plugged his One Campaign to end poverty in the world. Very ambitious, but definitely a worthy cause. At the end of the show, people were given a number that they could text their names to in order to sign up, and then later they showed people's names on the jumbotron. The guy next to me saw his name and spent the remainder of the show calling all his friends to tell them his name was on the jumbotron. I also enjoyed being in the presence of so many people. I can't imagine what it would be like to hear a sold-out arena singing your songs back to you. I thought of what it will be like in eternity, when the multitudes sing praises before the throne of God. Even better than what I heard last night, and what I heard was pretty cool.

I got back at 3 am this morning and had to be up by 6:30 in order to go to school, so I'm sort of pushing myself to not go to bed just yet. Plus I'm recovering from the attack of the allergenic mango. My lips puffed up, and I got tiny blisters all over my face. I wasn't exactly looking my best for work today. My students thought the idea of getting an allergy attack from a mango was pretty crazy (they seemed to think I was inventing an excuse for my Angelina Jolie lips), so I researched it a little, and I found that mangoes are actually in the same family as poison ivy and poison oak. The skin of a mango contains the same toxins, so it's easy for people to have reactions to them. I thought it was crazy, though, because I've eaten mangoes before and never had this reaction, but apparently a person's immune system doesn't build up the antibodies that cause an allergic reaction until she's been repeatedly exposed to the toxin. So beware, all you mango-lovers out there! The fruit you love may one day turn on you! In all reality, if you avoid the skin of a mango, you'll probably be okay. So there's a little random info on mangoes that you probably never thought you'd know.

I feel a little guilty for venting all my frustrations last week. I went to work today, and it was great. I actually thought of Harry K. Wong (I have to add the K or I feel perverted) and his statement regarding work: "You shouldn't leave work feeling exhausted if you have rules and procedures in place." I wasn't exhausted today, even after a 2 hour volleyball practice, in which I was the only coach, the main ball shagger, and 1/3 of a scrimaging team. So, I should apologize to all those out there who had to put up with the hormonal rantings of a woman with too much time on her hands. My job is frustrating at times. There are days when I feel like no one tells me anything, like everything is a surprise. There are a lot of days when I feel like I'm all alone. But I did realize today that although teaching kids may only be 25% of my job, it's enough to get me through the day without going berserk. I have also realized that I'm one of those people who, once a thought gets into their head, they examine it and pick at it and roll it around until it becomes this HUGE thing, like a mosquito bite you can't leave alone. I was homesick, I was frustrated at work, and I had just gone through a hurricane. I picked at it until it was "I hate Florida, I hate my job, Lincoln is the best place in the world."

In other news, what's the opinion out there on Bush's latest Supreme Court nominee? Is appeasing the GOP a good idea or not? (Just call me a pot-stirrer)

I'm alive, just in case anyone happened to be concerned. The hurricane wasn't that bad, but it came ashore stronger than anticipated--a strong cat. 3 instead of a 1 or 2--and a lot of places lost power. Providence didn't get power back until yesterday, so I've been enjoying having the whole week off from school. I'm ready to get back. I think if I don't get back to work, I'll convince myself to move home. When I'm home alone, thinking about how hard it is to live here, how far away my family is, etc., I get sort of down and discouraged. I need to work so I don't think so much. Plus, I'm listening to a lot of Patty Griffin lately, and she's definitely making me mellow. The weather is gorgeous though, so that's been positive. Temps have been in the high 70's for the past week, so Lindsey and I have had the doors to the lanai open morning, noon, and night. That means turning off the air-conditioning, fans, and other electrical appliances whose sole purpose is to keep us cool. This in turn means a lower electric bill next month, which is always a plus!

I came to the realization this week (all this crazy thinking) that I don't like working. I just mean work in general. I don't exactly know what the solution to this is, but I've decided that basically, I am very lazy, and I would rather stay at home reading and making pies (thanks, Patty) or doing something other than holding down a steady job. I could work part-time--I think I could be okay with that. But full-time? Ugh. The biggest thing I don't like about teaching is that it doesn't end at the end of the day. It's a job that is essentially your life. I don't know if I want teaching to be my life.

Sorry for the rather somber tone today. Like I said, too much time thinking and not enough time being productive. On a lighter note, my mother has found a husband for me. Or at least she's given a picture of me to a woman who knows a woman who has a son who's 24 and looking for a good wife. Once he sees that picture of me--oh boy!

Late Obsessions:

• Gilmore Girls, seasons 1-4 on DVD
• McDonald's ice cream cones
• Patty Griffin's 1000 Kisses and Living with Ghosts
• Coldplay's X and Y
• home/midwest/family/missing it all

She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain When She Comes

Wilma's just around the corner. I'm bringing in things from my porch, getting stuff away from the windows. Lindsay's stuck in Portland till who knows when, so I'm taking myself over to a hurricane party at Paula Moore's house (a co-worker from school, and the owner of a beautiful, strong, hurricane-proof house). Apparently there will be about 20 people there, so it should be fun to weather out the storm together. I'll have to let all you anxious mid-westerners know what it's like. The weather-people are pretty confident that it will make landfall somewhere around here, so things should be getting exciting later tonight. Honestly, I'm just ready for it to come and go. We've been waiting for her arrival for over a week now. It's kind of a weird sensation; all the windows are boarded up, people are gone (church was pretty barren today)... It wil be an interesting thing to go through. I can't say that living through a hurricane was at the top of my List of Things to Do in My Lifetime, but it will definitely go down as a memorable experience.

No school today, and probably not Monday or Tuesday either. Thank you Hurricane Wilma. Actually I'm not exactly happy about missing all this school. Just goes to show how much of a teacher I've become. We will get so behind if we miss more than two days. Not good, since my principal all ready spoke to me about being behind. My prayer partner Pam (nice alliteration, huh) told me that Sue (the principal) is always talking about things like that, especially to the English teacher, because Sue used to be the English teacher, and the job is sort of her baby. But still. I was starting to get caught up, and now we're going to be even more behind! ARGH! The joys of teaching. Anyway, I'm sitting at home, and I got to sleep in for the first time in probably two months. I actually slept until 11. I thought I couldn't physically do that anymore. It was great.

School's been pretty good. The seventh grade finally finished their oral reports yesterday, which means I get to grade them this weekend. I think that I am beginning to hate these oral reports. It's pretty much an institutional assignment; my friend Faith (who is coaching volleyball with me, and is my age) had to give a fairy tale oral report when she was in junior high at PCS. But I don't exactly know what I'm doing (although I know more now than when I first gave the assignment!), and you can trust that there will be at least one big paragraph in my school reflections journal about things I want to change next year. I'm getting so much better at grammar, because I'm teaching it every single day! I don't really like grammar, and I like even less the textbook I have to use (stupid A Beka grammar!) because all the example sentences are quotes from the King James Bible. No kidding. How can a student really learn about subjects and verbs, verbals and the dreaded diagramming from sentences like "How far dost the eye of the Lord see!" More and more, I'm learning that I may never be able to teach the way I dream of teaching at this school. But I also wonder, does the school exist where I will be able to actually do reading and writing workshop? Maybe only the school in Maine where Nancy Atwell teaches, and they're not going to hire me--they have Nancy Atwell!

I am thinking a lot about what I want to do next year. I feel as though I should stay, just because I need to stick it out here two years (if only for the sake of my resume). I also love the people here--they are so welcoming, and my students love me back. I love my church. But I'm also so homesick for my family. Whenever my sisters write or call and tell me about all the cool things they're doing (Christine's going to All-State Orchestra, Christine and Deborah are in the fall play, Erin's in the orchestra), I want so badly to be able to see it. I've missed so much of their lives all ready--five years, closing in on six that I haven't lived at home. I'm praying a lot about it. Florida just seems so far away.

I do like it here. I'm not down or depressed, only occasionally frustrated. I don't want to sound things are horrible, because they're not. I'm just considering my options. Any suggestions?

I actually spent last night helping Lindsey jump her car, which meant hanging out in the Barnes and Noble parking lot for about 45 minutes. Then when we got home, we talked about doing something, but ended up ordering Chinese (I have yet to find any as good as the Bamboo Garden), watching more Gilmore Girls, and going to bed. So much for all my great options. Even the crappy ones didn't work out.

Have never been so ready for a Friday. Spent the day wasting time in class--probably didn't teach a single thing. Did MadLibs with my seventh grade class to reinforce the lesson on parts of speech, and it totally flopped. I'm planning on doing the same activity with the eighth grade on Monday. Needs revision. Eighth grade played Mafia for the last twenty-five minutes because my brain essentially shut itself off. Next week only has two days--Wednesday is a duty day for us to work on report cards, and Thursday and Friday are inservice. Can you tell how excited I am? Just feel like writing in fragments for awhile. Sorry if it bothers you.

I need to stop rewarding myself with Frosties and McDonalds ice cream cones. They're my reward for making it to another Friday without strangling any students or publically humiliating them. I also consider myself deserving of one after a particularly strenuous volleyball practice (I use the stopwatch and shag balls) or game (I keep score and yell).

Today one of my colleagues was telling me about an upcoming date. When I asked what she was going to do, she grinned a wicked little grin and said "We're going to masticate...

...our food." When I burst out laughing, she said, "I knew you would find that funny." I'm wondering if that's a bad thing.

Lindsey and I have been on a huge Gilmore Girls kick the past week. A woman from church loaned us the DVDs of all four seasons, so I'm getting refreshed in the history of the women from Stars Hollow. They're enough to make me wish I'd had an illegitimate child at 17 and moved to Connecticut.

A minor annoyance: I hate the fact that every day when I come home from work, my fingernails are black and chipped from writing on the white board (which is actually a frustrating shade of grey).

Secret belief: My life matches that of Elizabeth in the comic strip For Better or For Worse, and I secretly believe that when she finds a guy, I will too. Am I weird? (That's a rhetorical question.)

I'm trying to decide what to do with the rest of my day. It's almost 5:30. Lindsey gets off work at 7:00. We've decided that tomorrow is going to be a big work day. I guess my options are as follows:
1. grade papers and get a head start on tomorrow.
2. call up a friend and make plans without Lindsey.
3. eat dinner and veg in front of the TV
4. wait for Lindsey to get home and then eat dinner and veg in front of the TV
5. dance myself in my living room to music from my computer
6. go for a walk (it's still 90 degrees)
7. pick up a guy and go out for a wild night on the town
8. call church friends and find out if there's "a plan"
9. go to sleep and wake up in 100 years like Rip Van Winkle
10. go to the pool
11. think and debate about what to do tonight until it's too late to do anything

A lot of options, some of which are rather impractical. I mean, who wants to go for a walk in 90 degree weather? Any suggestions? Last week at this time I was playing volleyball on a tennis court with 8 middle school girls. My social life definitely has room for improvement (although the girls were a ton of fun!).

Breakin' in the Lanai

Lindsey and I used our lanai (aka screened-in porch) for more than drying laundry for the first time tonight. Granted, we sat on a beach towel, but hey--it's Florida. Beach towels are cool. The evening air was actually somewhat cool and pleasant. I keep hearing about the emergence of Fall in the North, and I've been jealous of the oncoming crispness--apple crisp, crisp air, leaves crisping under foot. Wow. I just used "crisp" as an adjective, noun, and a verb! Who knew the amazing potentials of the word? Yes, it is late for me; and yes, I have been grading sixth grade essays long enough to make my head spin.

It's been one of those productive Saturdays. I know that when I climb into bed in a few minutes and I think back over my day, I will be able to say that I actually accomplished something. We had a massive cleaning spree in good ole #809 this morning, and then we went to the pool. We are both proud of our tan lines. This Christmas my family will be taking the bi-annual family photo, and I'm envisioning myself as dark and slim (for me) next to my pale and pasty family. It probably won't happen that way, but a girl can dream. After the pool, we vegged for a bit before getting up the nerve to shell out $6.50 for a matinee at the local theater. Two BIG thumbs up for The Constant Gardener. At this moment, I would like to take a second to reaffirm my allegiance and undying affection for Ralph Fiennes. Maid in Manhattan was such a deviation for him. I still wonder what was going on in his brain. He is so above a J-Lo film. Maybe it's equivelent to my reading a Nicholas Sparks book at the end of the school year; he just wanted something light and uncomplicated after a season of heady literature.

Anyway, the rest of the evening (after the intense political/social thriller that was slightly akin to Hotel Rwanda) was spent grading papers. I had to force myself every twenty minutes or so to keep going. It was like slogging through New Orleans sludge. But I got a lot done, and I only have about 10 more essays to grade before I'm finished. I hate grading with a passion. I don't mind reading the essays, but filling out my rubric, assigning a grade, and commenting on each one (especially when I know that the comments carry as much weight as a feather with these kids)... it all gets very tedious.

In other news, I'm soon to become a card-carrying member of the PCA church. I've never been an official member anywhere before, so this is exciting. I love my church; Oliver is the best pastor I've ever had. So I look forward to committing myself to this community for however long I stay here. Plus I like their doctrine, their theology, their confession, their catechism. I understand it, and it resonates with me more than the "somewhere in the middle" beliefs I've had up to this point. So I guess Evangelical Presbyterian Church (PCA) is stuck with me. Bet they didn't see that coming.

I don't want to go to work tomorrow. When I'm not at work, I don't really want my job; but when I'm at work, I enjoy it. I'm not having good quiet times--fairly non-existant this week--and I think that's affecting my attitude.

Lindsey and I went to this mega-church this morning, and it was like a well-choreographed dance. The pastor danced around the scripture, the praise team danced around the stage. They all had matching outfits. Lindsey and I had a hard time keeping a straight face throughout the sermon. It really made me appreciate my church here, the meat of scripture, the sincere praise. Not that the Avalon-esque praise team wasn't sincere. I'm sure they were. But I couldn't be sincere while they were leading.

I just finished reading Post-Secret.com, which is why I'm writing in this choppy, stream-of-consciousness way. I'm imagining that every little line is my own Post-Secret postcard, even though nothing I'm saying is really a secret.

Latest crappy movie I've seen: Monster-in-Law
Latest good movie I've seen: Notorious (Alfred Hitchcock)

TGIF
This week has been one of those weeks that has flown by like those high speed trains in Asia. I have been giving tests in every single class this week, which means I have to make the tests, since the ones from previous years aren't exactly what Pat Kornelis would call "valid" anymore. I usually forgot about writing the tests until the night before, or in today's case, this morning. I feel like I'm completely sucking when it comes to teaching, because I'm doing all those things I swore I wouldn't do just to survive.

I have good moments, when I feel like things went well--like if I nailed the grammar lesson and students were really getting it and comprehending, but then there are those days when I just feel like they're staring at me with blank slates, and I'm not filling them, I'm not even scratching my nails on the chalkboards in their minds.

One thing with middle school is that they are constantly forgetting and constantly testing the limits of my patience. I try to be understanding, because I know they're not doing it on purpose, that it actually is a condition brought on by early adolescence, and they can't always help that they're fidgity and distracted. One of my colleagues, our curriculum director and childhood development coordinator, calls it "whifty syndrome." Things just whift right in and around and then out again, particularly with the boys. And I see it every day.

They can drive me nuts, and then they can absolutely make me fall in love with them. Just now, one of my students offered the remaineder of his sandwich to another student who had forgotten to bring a lunch. There is still such sweetness and innocence in some of the younger ones. Granted, they are usually fairly mischievous, but there's no malice or bitterness. No "too cool for school" until about 8th grade.

Well, chapel is about to start, and I need to finish eating my cardboard sandwich.

Praise the Lord the internet is now working.