Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Dear Alex :: Tobbit's First Trip to the Mechanic

Different garage a few days ago...
Dear Alex,

Well, just got back from the mechanic with Tobbit and the word that best describes me is "happy." I kept grinning at them, brimming full of gratitude and smiling. So happy. Tobbit has been fixed!

As you know, Tobbit's battery has never charged. He has a new alternator and a new battery and still, the two don't work together. We tried out a new voltage regulator and that didn't work. In the end, we were stumped. For the past few months, I've been plugging Tobbit into a battery charger every couple nights making him not a self-sustaining truck.

I called up Larry at Lynnwood Auto Electric and he wasn't able to take anyone at the time (government is upset at him right now) but he suggested the folks at Malloy Services on 99. I called them up and scheduled an appointment for this morning.

It was a smooth, rainy drive over and I arrived just before 8 AM. A friendly, bearded man came over and let me inside, even though they weren't open yet. He said it might be a bit longer than an hour for them to check out what was wrong. I told him I had all day, handed him the keys, and then pulled Silas (the bike) out from the back of Tobbit. I was set to go. Since I don't have a cell phone, I said I'd check back in a bit to see what the diagnosis would be so I could decide if I could afford it. I figured I would have to and, in my head, had a price limit set at $350. It's an awful lot of money, but I figured it was about the cost of a new alternator plus all the time it would take. The sign on the wall said that they charged $93 an hour but I was told it would be less.

I biked down Aurora to Trader Joe's and Half Price Books and hung out there for a while, picking up some olive oil, a banana, kale, and a few C.S. Lewis books. It had been over an hour so I decided to head back and see if they had any updates.

Back at the shop, I occupied myself by reading in the lobby. The front-desk lady was really sweet. Before long, one of the men came out and told me that it was good that he had worked on thousands of Rabbits and that he knew what was wrong. He showed me the piece that was broken. It was the connector to the alternator. There was a part I couldn't even see within the L-shaped part and he told me that that was what was broken.

One of the men was Patrick Malloy but I forget which one. They were all wonderful people.

He went back and finished fixing Tobbit up as the woman put together my bill. I was really nervous.

"...and a discount for being patient. That comes to $92," she told me.
"92 for everything?" I clarified.
"Yep, that's it!" she told me.

I was stunned.

To fix Silas, the bike, had cost $104. This was even cheaper than that!

The diagnosis on the receipt was, "Battery not charging. Found not charging due to bad connector to alternator. By-pass connector. Tighten alt belt." The large connector "stk" cost $1.31 (there were two of them needed) and a small connector was $1.59.  Labor came to $80.

So stoked! $92 is something I can afford!

Apparently the mechanics know VW Rabbits really well. I asked if they did more than electric. Before I take Tobbit to Alaska, I want him checked over and they told me that they could definitely do that.

So - it was a success!
The battery now charges and I am free to run off.

I know we still have to do struts... let me know when you have time for that.



Monday, April 14, 2014

Four Wishes from Bee

"Who... who... who are you?" asked the frail women in the adult care facility where Grandfather lives. They're both in "memory care."

"I'm Margaret," I answered her. "I'm Warren's granddaughter."
"I'm... I'm Bee. That's not my real name but I won't tell you that."
"Bee works perfectly for me," I reassured her.
"You have such a.. such a darling dress."

I thanked her and she gestured for me to twirl. I twirled for Bee and she put her hands together.

"And you have those.. those..." and she put her finger into her cheek, symbolizing dimples.

"You look darling. I want to see you in 10 years. In 10 years, I wish for you a husband who loves you, a family, and A-1 health for all of you."

Those were her wishes for me.
I grinned back.

"With that face... you'll find someone," she told me.
I grinned again, although it wasn't as easy.

She was thanked for her kind wishes and I gave Grandfather a huge hug, making sure he knew how much I loved him. I know he won't remember this visit in an hour or two, but I'll do what I can to make sure he knows he's loved and that I think often of him.

My dad and I had biked through the trees and over the "river" (slough) to visit him and delivery flowers that his church had given him in celebration of Palm Sunday.

I love both of those men.
It was a good day.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Koala Hug to the Log

You know where I've been. But today seemed good. Today I took steps in putting myself in the place that I might need to be to sort things out.

I started the morning with some life admin followed up with a chat with the neighbors across the street. I love neighbours. I made plans to go to church with them in the morning. They go to the same church my grandparents did and helped start the Canadian L'Abri (which I didn't know when I chose to go there).

The sun was out.
It's out now.
(don't ask why I'm inside writing)
It's blue.
I'm alive and right now, I'm glad of me.

Yesterday was a low. Today is a high. People, I promise I'll try and stable myself out soon.

One of the things, I am quite certain, that has been affecting me is lack of exercise. I'm used to dancing and walking around but, at L'Abri, life can get immobile. I hiked a mountain twice one week and then, the next week, I twisted my ankle. Since then, it's been bruised and swollen (we're on week 3 or 4 of the twisted ankle). This certainly doesn't help.

To get my blood flowing again, my bike is best. When I ride Silas, I feel jubilant. When I feel my muscles start to burn as I push myself faster, I grin. Sunglasses on. Wind blowing.

I like biking in dresses. I like the way it feels.
No spandex for this human.

I went to the mechanic to pick up Silas. They were super sweet and their estimate was $40 more than what I actually had to pay. Great service, I was grateful.

On the way to the trail, I stopped by Grandfather's and visited with him at her adult family care facility for a bit. I had printed out pictures of Alaska, L'Abri and, and my travels abroad and we looked at them together. It was good to catch up with him. I love that man - Warren Wilson.

I rode onto the Burke Gilman and felt immediately calm but exhilarated. I love that trail. I've spent so many hours, road so many miles, had so many conversations on it. If any place in Seattle feels like home, it's that trail. Can a trail be home? Maybe it's just a sign that I'm home.. but I'm not. But I am.

As I was biking, I had the thought, "I'm going to go visit the Burke's..." and exactly as I was entertaining that thought, there on the trail was Mr. Burke! We caught up quickly before carrying on our separate ways.

I made it to Log Boom where I found a small little beach to the side, small enough to be considered private. There was a log and I laid on it, hugging it like a koala, and soon found myself asleep by the lake, surrounded by trees.

When I woke up, there in my sideways vision was a man flying in the air... I think. He was spinning and twirling around on the water. Then I could see clearer that there were jets of water coming out from his feet propelling him across Lake Washington. I let myself watch for a while.

Biked back to Tobbit.

Afternoon settled. Time for the evening events.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Learning to Run Errands in an Automobile When an Ankle is Twisted

I arrived in Seattle, Washington, from Bowen Island, British Columbia, yesterday.
"Welcome home."
My parent's home.

But it still feels like home the way an old bedroom should. I spent the night in my father's bed (he's in Las Vegas for a National Broadcasters Association convention) going to bed at 9:30 PM and getting up at 11:00 AM.

After a few months at L'Abri, I leave with the feeling of utter exhaustion. I don't know what it was or what did it (ok, so I have some ideas). The day term ended, I got sick. I'm always amused at how the body can hang out on getting sick until it knows you're ready for it. The day my duties were done, I was sick...

but still had to drive for three hours to get to Seattle. I know that doesn't sound like a long distance, but I'm still a brand new driver. On top of that, I was tired from the night before when Tim and I had missed the last ferry and got home late so I had to get up early to do all of my packing.

Sick. Tired. Driving.
To Mukilteo to work on Tobbit.
Thursday morning -- good morning Seattle!

I still felt cruddy, but also knew I had to start getting things done in preparation for the next mini-chapter of 2014 (it involves an island). I only got a license the day before I left Seattle and only had experience driving while on Bowen Island. This was my first day to ever run errands in Seattle.

Before, what I would do is bike, walk, and bus around. It would work, yes, but it would take hours longer than I would want it to.

In this case, I wouldn't be able to get around by those means. I have a twisted, swollen, bruised ankle that I still can't really use. It's frustrating. While I still would love to walk, I truly ought not.

My first errand to run was to use Tobbit to drive Silas down to the bike mechanic. Silas is my bicycle.

I got him back in 2010 from my employer. He got me everywhere, to Seattle and back and Woodinville and back and all around. Love that bike. The thing is, just about everything is wrong with him. I just wanted him to work. I just want to have a bike to ride.

"What do you think it would cost to get him riding again?" I asked.
The young man took Silas to the back and made a list of everything it would take. Some he said needed to be done, other things weren't all too important. Collectively, it came out to be not too much. It was enough cash that I wasn't thrilled, but it was less than it would cost to get another bicycle. I'd rather invest into a bicycle I already have. I like Silas. If it was a couple hundred, I wouldn't have gone for it, but it seemed worth it.

I just want a working bike, yo.

Where I think I'm heading, it will come in handy. I think I'll be four miles from town. Maybe 8. Both distances are very bike-able. I'd rather not come to rely on Tobbit and forget Silas.

I may, may have thought it was adorable that Tobbit was driving Silas around and I may have thought that they were like brothers helping each other out...

With Silas at the mechanic in Woodinville, I continued up the road to NAPA auto where I got to try and get myself a new alternator - the old one doesn't work. I smiled, wore a dress, and spoke Russian... they're doing what they can to talk to the men up top to get Tobbit running. Really sweet folks!

After that, I went to Target in search of underwear. I wandered the store, a bit shell-shocked, for 20 minutes and left with nothing. I took refuge at Molbaks, the gardening and flower store and sniffed and sniffed.

I crossed from Woodinville to Mountlake Terrace to buy some tabs for Tobbit (more dollars...) and then traveled to Carole's home to try and deliver the flowers. I napped in the back of Tobbit for an hour, hoping she would come home. She didn't.

When I got back to the home of my parent's, there was a message on the answering machine from Carole asking if I was home. If I had a mobile, I guess this could've worked out differently, but I still feel fine about not having one.

I felt sleepy, sick, and tired.

Dad came home! It was good to see him.
Carole and Milo came over. That was lovely.
It was Milo's birthday.

I met Milo on the bus. I met Carole before I even knew I was meeting people.

They brought me cute packages of tissue for my cold, a mug, a tea pot, and dinosaur tickets and we hung out, caught up, and felt tired.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Setting Off From Bowen... Again

I have left Bowen Island, again.

My arrivals and departures from this island look sort of like this:
September 2011 - Arrive
October 2011 - Depart/Arrive
November 2011 - Depart/Arrive
December 2011 - Depart
Sometime in 2012 - Arrive/Depart
Spring 2013 - Arrive/Depart
February 2014 - Arrive
April 2014 - Depart

On the morning of the 9th, I woke up at 6:30 AM to the sound of Comptine d'Un Autre Été by Yann Tierson playing from the phone that Tim had lent to me for the night to insure I didn't oversleep. I had planned on packing the night before but things didn't work out as planned and we got back late. I would do all of my packing in the morning.

I bought the soundtrack to the Grand Budapest Hotel and it played in the background for the rest of the morning as I packed and we made and consumed breakfast. We had seen the film the day before with Liz and I had become fond of the music which was a collision of Switzerland and Russia.

The cast iron skillet was heated and coconut oil melted. In it we cooked up kale, onions, and mushrooms before adding eggs. It was satisfying and delicious. To accompany it, I had a nervous stomach ache. I woke up sick, was exhausted, and knew I had to drive on I-5 for the first time in my life. I'd be on major freeways for a few hours.

We packed up and headed for the ferry, catching the 9:30 AM departure. Tim came with me so he could pick up the car that we had left at Horseshoe Bay, on the mainland, the night before and also to tackle some life admin in Vancouver.

We had sun. I was grateful.
We made it to the ferry.

Once aboard, we worked to re-adhere my rearview mirror to the windshield. It had come off.

Half of the ferry ride was spent attaching the mirror and speaking of dragons and princesses, the other half was spent with our head sticking outside of the boat.

Once docked, we parted ways. I headed down the Trans-Canadian Highway to Exit 11 where I would be meeting Marianne at the Esso gas station. It was my first time to drive over 25 mph in a few months but it went fine. I found my way to the gas station and attempted to fuel up. No diesel. Luckily, I had a map and could reroute the trip to a few miles down the road and not have to back track.

I made myself comfortable on Tobbit's tailgate and waited in the sun, writing a letter, until Marianne came to join me. She was busing over from another part of the city.

Once reunited, away we went!

It was vibrant, sunny, and things went right.
Crossing the border was a snap for the American side.

For the Canadian side, I had to check in, personally, so they could confirm that I had left and complied with the rules. I got personally escorted to the line to enter America. A woman had my passport and didn't hand it to me until I was just about sandwiched between a few cars on the path to the border. She had to let me out through a lovely little barrier. Guess they wanted to truly make sure I wasn't planning on sticking around.

America welcomed us without question.

"Where do you live?"
"What were you doing in Canada?"
"Visiting friends."
"For how long?"
"Six and eight weeks."
"Have a nice day."

Marianne made for excellent company. I enjoyed conversing with her and was grateful to have her with me. Being a new driver, it was nice to have someone give me tips and help me with signs. We got home in one piece.

Marianne is a wonderful woman who has called Benin, West Africa home for a few years now, I believe. I think it's a few years. Anyways, she lives there.

One morning, I expressed concern to the group about driving Tobbit home. I wasn't sure if he would make it. She already had a train ticket but she graciously offered to ride down with me. She was headed to Seattle as well.

"Well, I"m not really going to Seattle," I explained to her. "I'm going to a place called Mukilteo to work on Tobbit."
"I'm going to Mukilteo too!" she told me.

It turns out, this African-resident was going to a home less than a mile away from the home I would go to to work on Tobbit. Crazy, eh?

Farewell, L'Abri!

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Step One. Step Two.

In six days, I'll be on the road headed to wherever I'll end up.
In six days, my time at L'Abri will be over.

I'd sort of like to say that I'm sad and will miss it terribly, but that's just not the way it is.

My emotions have sort of plateaued and I feel like I'm able to take a clear look at my life when at L'Abri. There's been a lot of good this term. There's been a lot of grins and, even more important, the potential for growth or the beginnings of growth.

Currently, the entire community is gathered around a laptop watching "Harper's Island," a "a horror thriller/mystery mini-series" (WIKI). This isn't something I really want anything to do with. So, I'm warm and cozy on my bed writing to no one. This seems so different from the community I knew at the beginning of term. I'm trying to think of what's happened between now and then. I know something must have happened.. maybe I washed and matched socks a hundred time and made over 20 beds and made over 21 meals.

I'm eager for the 9th when I'll be on the road again. I don't know what will happen, but I feel ready. There are two paths that I can imagine. There's the reckless one and the one that I know could be good for me in many ways. One plays into the rhythm I keep playing and the other has inclinations towards deeper desires.

From hearing those, it seems like it would be an obvious choice of what to to do but, well, with me, I'm not exactly known for taking the rational, logical path. Maybe it's time I do. Maybe I should rebel against the road I'm so tempted to get back on.

I'm not sure, yet.

Step one is to get Tobbit up to ship shape. There are still a few things wonky about him that need to be fixed.

Step two is... is...

Maybe I should quickly file my taxes?

Yesterday, while talking to Clark, my mind sort of got turned upside down. I don't know what to do with it. I had a lot of thoughts to process but there was no time to go through them.

We talked in the garden, he was laying in the grass and I was perched up on the bench. That evening, the verdict was that I had lightly sunburned my face into a toasty pink that means that winter just might be over. We turned over rocks and ideas and at one point, he made a bold, bold statement. It was pointed, a bit jagged, and true. Questions started to build up along with a fear of leaving L'Abri, the shelter. I feel vulnerable, not ready for the real world.I know I just wrote the exact opposite above. I know that. When I think of what might happen when I leave, when I still feel so unsettled and shaky, I'm afraid of where I may fall.

We headed back inside for lunch. I felt like a wreck and made my way into the library. It was that or the bathroom. I just knew I was about to loose it. Sofia was there and I asked if I could cry with her. She took me in her arms and I wept. It was lunch time and before the tears could fully dry, I was at the table. I was asked if I wanted to take a tray (eat on my own), but I didn't really want to be alone. Before seeing my face, Julia asked if I could put Sarah Beth. to bed. Sarah Beth is a sweet little tot and putting her down for a nap twice a week brings me such delight. When I turned towards Julia, she quickly took it back, realizing that I wasn't quite in a state to put her down - but I was. "I'd love to," I told her. She told me I could say "no" and I told her that I genuinely wanted to put Sarah Beth down for her nap. "You can just hold her and cuddle her a bit," she told me as she handed me the child who quickly nestled her head on my shoulder. We went upstairs and sat together for a while. I just held her and we rocked back and forth.

Lunch discussion was about pot.

After lunch, I had to start on dinner, no break in between. Dinner was fried rice. In the middle of it all, Jessamy loaded up Tobbit with the tea-things and we had afternoon tea by the garden. After tea, it was back to the kitchen, for me. Between chopping and stirring, I took down all the laundry I had done earlier that day (a load of sheets and towels and a load of dark clothes), folded them, and put them away on the self for the students to claim.

Then we ate dinner.

And still, I hadn't had a chance to think.

I knew that we would be watching a movie after dinner. I wasn't ready.
While folks were still chatting over dinner, I quietly slipped away and hopped in Tobbit. I drove to Cape Roger Curtis in anticipation of the sun setting. Down at the end of a few ways that turned to roads that turned to single-lane paths, I found myself parked next to another Volkswagen. A short conversation was exchanged and then I headed for the rocks.

The sun went down, sort of. It went down the best way a sun can when there's no sun to set when the sun is hiding. I pulled out my Bible and started to read. I opened it up to the Psalms and, as I did, an bald eagle came and perched in the tree, right above me. For the rest of the time I was there, he was there. A seal jumped around in the water at the end of the rocks. I read.

Headed home.
Watched a Russian film.
Went to bed.
Talked to Liz until 1:03 AM.

The day is done. Bam.

Post-Morning (Mid-Afternoon) Update:
I am curled up in my sleeping bag by the fire and quite content. It is Liz, Tim, and I. So swell. I want to go to Alaska. I filed my taxes and was surprised with the tax return. Enough to get me and Tobbit around the State quite comfortably. Maybe we'll be up for a figure-8 track around the country.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

I Still Miss Her

It's a sunny Tuesday so I figure my blankets that I keep in Tobbit could use some airing out. I pulled out my technicolored quilt and that made me grin. I really like that quilt.

I gave it a shook and the sun shone down on it.

I carried it to the back deck of L'Abri and hung it out on the porch to freshen up. I looked closer at it and saw little stitches holding all the squares of fabric together. These weren't machine stitches. This quilt was handstitched.

I'm not sure if Grandma Hazel made this quilt or if my great-aunt did, but, that quilt certainly made me think of Grandma Hazel. And, in thinking about her, I began to cry.

And cry.

Because I miss that woman! I miss my Grandma. It's odd thinking of her as dead and I still have a hard time with getting it. I never really got closure with her death. There was no memorial service that I could attend (I was in Ukraine) and I didn't get to mourn with anyone else. It was just me on my own. I had friends, but no one that knew Grandma.

It's hard to let go and it's hard to move on. I don't cry every week, any more, but it's still a monthly occurrence. She was such an awesome woman! She was oh so lovely. I miss her.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Exhausted at the End of the Day

I'm in my room alone and content and writing about how I'm content which makes me wonder if I am.

Just about everyone (all 'cept one) is out, through the woods, over the bridge, and gathered around a fire. I heard word of it after dinner and felt no real draw to attend. Normally I'm into this sort of thing, I love fires. But I couldn't get up the desire.

I felt like I should want to, though.

They went out. I said I'd be there in 20 minutes.
I turned on This American Life and pulled out my deck of SET cards. For me, this is a pretty idyllic way to spend a night. Sofia came back and I was encouraged to join the crew outside. I said I would.

I grabbed my headlight and headed out back. Within minutes I was with the crew around the fire.

Back at the house, I didn't really want to go, but I thought I should go. It's not uncommon for me to not really have the gumption to get out my front door. A lot of times, though, I force myself out and I end up having a swell time.

Well, that didn't happen tonight.

I went and it was...
it felt like I wasn't there. I felt like I didn't care. I felt a complete emotional disconnect from everyone there and every interaction felt like something of a violent obligation. So I left.

10:08 PM and back inside my safe little room.

And then it was time to process what had just happened, because I like to understand. I wanted to know why everyone else was happy to be out together around the fire and why I didn't want to be with them.

So I walked myself through my day and realized it had been a long, long day. I had been running full speed without a pause since 7 AM when Liz's alarm woke up.

Today really was a good day. I got to spend most of it outdoors in the sun and I felt well and accomplished, like I had done something with my time. I spent the first hour of the day preparing breakfast for 10 people (oatmeal dyed green -- Happy April Fools?). I made a few pots of tea and attempted to start a fire. We sat around for the table for around 40 minutes as we ate oatmeal and talked.

Post-breakfast, I did laundry for around three hours. I did a few loads and, since we had sun, I was able to hang it all out to dry. So many pairs of jean!

The view from where I hang up the laundry.
I grabbed all of the mattresses and blankets from Tobbit and set them out in the direct sun for the entire day to breath and get some fresh air. I've read in a few places that the sun works as a disinfectant. I figured that with how moist is has been there in the past, they could use a bit of freshening up.

In the middle of this, I did get a tea break to share with everyone but, for me, time with people rarely feels like resting time or recharging time. Being with other folks is a drain and it's rare I find folks that I can hang  out with for extended periods of time and have it feel sustainable. During the tea time, Claire and Emily both left for good. Emily was with us for the full term and we had spent the past 10 days getting to know Claire. Emily is of California and Claire is of Australia.

So laundry-tea-laundry.

Then we had lunch. This lasted about an hour and a half and involved delicious bangers and mash (thanks Matt!), green beans, and I was served frozen blueberries for dessert (the rest of the community had carrot cake straight from the oven). So lovely. The entire lunch, my brain was engaged.

After lunch, it was time to put on work clothes and head out into the sun. As I was going to get my overalls, Tim forcefully grabbed my wrist and started to drag me towards his room which freaked me out. I shouted and punched and twisted his arm. My brain went into fight mode and was trying to hurt him before he could hurt me. It turns out he just wanted me to have to feel the butter on his doorknob that Liz had slathered on. He thoroughly apologized afterwards. Out in the garden, we were divided up into work teams, although we didn't call them that. Tim and I got to work making a trellis out of bamboo we found in a "to burn"-pile down a dirt road not far from L'Abri.

We latched together two sets of two sticks of bamboo, forming a point. These were placed in the garden bed. We propped up one side of the bamboo with a brace of bamboo that went into the center of the bed. From there, we put a stick of wood across the tops of both triangles of bamboo and set up more sticks of bamboo along the horizontal bamboo.

After our afternoon tea break, we went back to work. Once the trellis was made, I hobbled back home to take all of the laundry down from off the lines, folded it, and sorted it.

Then we gathered and ate the murgh makhani that Liz had made for us. More talking around the table.

After the meal, Ian played the piano and guitar and I played cello. He's fun to jam with.

Tired. So tired. Throughout all of this, I'd like to add, I had a headache. It started at around 11 AM.


So... that probably explains why I didn't feel like going out to be with everyone around a fire.

I think it's time for me to go to bed, now.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

the Rowboat with Tim

Earlier today I wrote out the sort of day I wanted for today. Turns out that what I wrote out became a reality and it was just the sort of day I needed to recharge and fell well rested in the way that makes me want to throw my head back and sigh a contented sigh of stable-ness. Most of the day was spent in Tobbit and now I'm back in there.

A bit before dinner, I headed inside for a stretch and to wash my lunch bags out. In washing the bags, I was given the lovely, lovely view of the back property of L'Abri. Back there, we have a few ponds and next to one of those ponds is an overturned rowboat. I decided that that was what I wanted to do with my afternoon. My ankle is keeping me from going for walks, but I could at least use my arms a bit.

Tim came upstairs and decided to join. I think two in a boat is more amusing than one in a boat.

We headed out back, flipped the boat over, and set out for pond-center.
And Pond North.
And Pond South.
And Pond West.
And Pond East.

It's a very tiny pond, but big enough to feel like you're can at least start to go somewhere.

In one corner, we found globs and globs of frog eggs, jellying it up on sticks and twigs. We read Lucy's latest comic, Grand Adventure (for sale here) and dreamed up boat dreams and conjured up boat stories. A lot of my dreams have been nautical lately (I know, I know, I have Tobbit - don't worry, I'm not giving him up any time soon) and to get on the water felt good, even if just in a wee little rowboat that leaked a bit, making the seat of Tim's pants wet. Carole's letter also got wet but it dried out perfectly when we got home.

The sun started its setting-process which made the light come through the trees in a perfect way and everything glowed in the way that things glow in Cascadia.

I felt refreshed and happy. It was an idyllic ending to a peaceful day. I am grateful to be here.

Thanks Tim.

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