Fw: Folks from Texas
Forget Rednecks, here is what Jeff Foxworthy has to say about folks from
Texas …
If someone in a Lowe’s store offers you assistance and they don’t work
there, you may live in Texas
If you’ve worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you may live in Texas .
If you’ve had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a
wrong number, you may live in Texas .
If “Vacation” means going anywhere south of Dallas for the weekend, you may
live in Texas .
If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Texas .
If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you may live
in Texas .
If you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both
unlocked, you may live in Texas .
If you carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use them,
you may live in Texas .
If the speed limit on the highway is 55 mph — you’re going 80 and
everybody s passing you, you may live in Texas .
If you find 60 degrees “a little chilly”, you may live in Texas .
If you actually understand these jokes, and forward them to all your Texas
friends & others, you definitely live in Texas .
Entertainment
I saw Blood and Chocolate tonight. It’s an interesting movie, and I’m glad I saw it, but when Mr. Al, who also gets into Paranormal type movies, asked if he should rent it again so he could see it from the beginning, I said “no.”
Now I’m wondering why. Like I said, I’m glad I rented it. It has a few good lines delving into the nature of the characters and their condition in life. It had characters I liked. The themes were handled well. Why didn’t I love it?
I think it’s because I like my werewolves to be a little lighter. I’m not a gore fan. I would not recommend Werewolves of London to anyone. What I like are great one-liners, characters who don’t take themselves so seriously, and a solid underlying story.
Hmmm… come to think of it, that’s what I like in all my movies.
How about you? What do you look for in a movie?
Tudor Follies: Arm Chair Theologians
When we left off Katherine was behaving the same way so many of Henry’s other wives did when finding out how blood thirsty Henry could be. She had a royal hissy fit. Let’s see if she fairs any better than the others.***
So sayeth the doctor to Katherine; “First, don’t say anything to anybody else about the warrant! When you talk to Henry, tell him that you could sense that he was upset about something. That after much soul searching you concluded he was upset because you were such a smart-ass know it all. Tell his Royal Husbandness that you will never, EVER do or say ANYTHING that will EVER contradict or upset His Most Benign and Forgiving Royal Self EVER AGAIN! Cross your heart and hope to die!
And tell your servant to put that frick’n warrant back where she found it! Without being seen! If Henry knows you know what he knows, you’re toast. Um…Your majesty will forgive me that last bit. Just a figure of speech.” Katherine continued to carry on as loudly as before, but now she had a plan. The doctor returned to Henry shaking his head. Henry decided to pop in and see what was upsetting his little armchair theologian.
He stayed with Katherine for about an hour, them returned to his rooms. As soon as he was gone Katherine ordered her ladies to gather up any books, pamphlets, letters, anything that might be considered heretical and burn them. Then, in deep remorse mode, she went to Henry’s room for a little chat. Henry was there with some chaps, discussing…religion! Henry invited Katherine in. Perhaps she’d care to add her two shillings on the subject.
Katherine answered Henry’s questions very carefully. She then stated that, as the supreme head of the One True Church, she would never dream of contradicting him on matters of doctrine. Henry was having none of that.
He said, “Not so, by St. Mary! Ye are become a doctor, Kate, to instruct us, as often time we have seen, and not to be instructed or directed by us.”
Katherine had to proceed with the utmost care. If she couldn’t convince Henry she was behind him on matters of the church… She started by saying she had been misunderstood. She was a woman! How could she possibly know as much as her vastly superior husband? If she argued with him it was only for the sake of taking his mind off the cares and burdens of being a king! If she played the devil’s advocate it was for entertainment purposes only! She truly believed she was making her beloved husbands life more pleasant by giving his brain cells a run for their money.
Henry’s heart melted. His little Kate had only noble intentions from the very beginning. He knew it all along. Said Henry,
“Is it so, sweetheart? And tended your arguments to no worse end? Then we are perfect friends, as ever at any time heretofore.”
He bought it all. He hugged her and kissed her and told her he would never doubt her again. After she left, he turned his attention to those who had badmouthed her. The scales had fallen from his eyes. He could see the plans of Wriothesley and Gardiner plain as day. Something would have to be done about those two.
Meanwhile, the butterfingered councilor had found the warrant right where he dropped it. Yowza! That was a close one! His relief can only be imagined. At some point in the evening Wriothesly became aware of the document’s existence. Since it bore Henry’s signature, he decided not to wait for Henry to make up his mind. He was going to move in for the kill the next day. Lord Chancellor Wriothesley was about to discover how mercurial a prince Henry could be.
****
What a foolish, foolish man. Wriothesly, I mean.
No, this does not end the Tudor Follies. Mr. Al has one last episode ready to go. I couldn’t resist; I went ahead and read it. I promise, next Tuesday we will end the series with a great post.
Thank you Mr. Al, both for today’s episode, and for your willingness to continue your history lessons after you are done with Henry VIII.
Alice
Apricot Jam
I’ve been making apricot jam lately. We had a crop of excellent apricots this year. When I went to find a jam recipe, I found I’d packed the cookbook it was in, and most of what I found online started with dried apricots. My mother rescued me with this:
See http://www.uga.edu/nchfp/ At the National Food Pres site, I found:
Apricot Jam
without added pectin
* 2 quarts crushed, peeled apricots
* 1/4 cup lemon juice
* 6 cups sugar
Yield: About 10 half-pint jars
Procedure: Sterilize canning jars. Combine all ingredients; slowly bring to boiling, stirring occasionally until sugar dissolves. Cook rapidly until thick, about 25 minutes. As mixture thickens, stir frequently to prevent sticking. Remove from heat and fill hot jam into hot, sterile jars, leaving 1/4 inch headspace. Wipe rims of jars with a dampened clean paper towel; adjust two-piece metal canning lids. Process in a Boiling Water Canner.
Table 1. Recommended process time for Apricot Jam in a boiling water canner.
Process Time at Altitudes of
Style of Pack Jar Size 0 – 1,000 ft 1,001 – 6,000 ft Above 6,000 ft
Hot Half-pints 5 min 10 15
or Pints
By the way, you can skip the sterilizing of jars anytime you have a processing time of 10 min. or longer.
Thanks Mom
Alice
Can You See It?
I have my newsletter set up. It’s supposed to be in the bar on the right. I can’t see it with my browser. I’ve heard it’s under Links on some browsers and under the Flickr Photos banner on others. If you can’t see it at all, then go here: Suzie’s House. I recomend doing it soon, because you never know which Friday I’ll be using it. 😀
Alice
Suzie’s House 31: A Sympathetic Ear
“Dad? Can I talk to you?” Ben sat on one of the old aluminum-tube kitchen chairs and braced his arms on the top of the cracked-linoleum kitchen table. His father liked to joke about all his furniture being OTC – Off The Curb. Ben didn’t think it was so funny.
He didn’t really want to have this conversation with his father. He wanted it with his mother. Apparently he wasn’t going to get a chance since Dad wouldn’t let him use the phone to call her.
Ben’s father reached into the oven and pulled out a pizza as if feeding his son pizza yet again could be considered an accomplishment. “Sure, of course you can.” Dad tried to act all jovial, but sounded fake instead.
“I want to tell my side of things. At school, I mean. With Mrs. D.”
“Do you want a big slice or a small one?”
“I’m talking about school, Dad. Mrs. D. is out to get me.” Now that Mom had stood up for him, Mrs. D. would be out to get her too, but you couldn’t say that to Dad. Dad totally lost it everytime Ben said anything about his mother.
“Don’t exagerate, Ben. I’m sure she’s just doing her job. Here, take a big slice.” He served out the pizza.
“No she isn’t. If she was doing her job I wouldn’t be in any trouble.”
Ben waited for him to ask something meaningful, like what did he mean Mrs. D wasn’t doing her job. He couldn’t wait to tell someone, even his dad, what the old witch had been doing.
“‘Were’ doing, not ‘was’.” Dad took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. After a minute of chewing, he swallowed, then took another bite.
“This is serious, Dad. She isn’t doing what she’s supposed to, and it isn’t fair. She gives really hard assignments, doesn’t give us enough time to do them, then marks off every little thing. I’m not the only….”
“Ben,” He sighed gustily, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You’re just going to have to try harder.”
It occurred to Ben that his father never really looked at him. He looked at whatever he was doing with his hands, like taking the pizza out or picking up his can of beer. At least the TV wasn’t on, like it usually was during dinner. But Ben got the feeling no one was listening, which really pissed him off.
“Dad, Mrs. D said I wasn’t turning in my homework, but I was. She keeps throwing it in the garbage. I watched her do it. I even got it back out and handed it to her, but she still says I didn’t do it. Teachers aren’t supposed to do that, are they?”
Ben’s father leaned way back to reach the remote control for the TV in the kitchen from the counter.
“Well? Aren’t they?”
“I’m sure she’s just doing her job.” He clicked the TV on, then leaned to the side so he could look at it over Ben’s shoulder.
Anger boiled up, making Ben clench his teeth so hard they squeeked like icecubes. He hated the way Dad made him feel like dirt, like less than nothing. His father never looked at him. He never listened to him. The only reason he ever wanted him around was to make his mother feel bad because she did want Ben.
Ben was sick and tired of pizza too. At least when Miranda ordered it, she got something Ben liked. He hated pepperoni, which was the only thing his dad ever got. Ben had told him over and over how he didn’t like pepperoni, but Dad never listened. He never listened to anything Ben ever had to say.
Ben flipped the slice onto his plate, then shoved the plate away. “I’m not hungry.”
“All right, then go without.” His dad glared across the table.
At least his father was finally looking at him. Too bad it didn’t make Ben feel any better.
The previous was Suzie’s House 30: The Confessional
This is Suzie’s House 31: A Sympathetic Ear
Next is Suzie’s House 32: Respect
Newsletter Update
It appears I will not be able to pull off a love scene this week on Suzie’s House. I’m having trouble setting up the newsletter. Actually, I have it set up, but I want to get the settings right, and the way things are now anyone and everyone could sign up.
Ah well. You all wanted me to surprise you anyway.
A new supermarket opened near my house.
I got this in the emial recently. You’ve probably seen it, but in case you haven’t:
A new supermarket opened near my house. It has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh. Just before it goes on, you hear the sound of distant thunder and the smell of fresh rain.
When you approach the milk cases, you hear cows mooing and experience the scent of fresh hay.
When you approach the egg case, you hear hens cluck and cackle, and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of bacon and eggs frying.
The veggie department features the smell of fresh buttered corn.
I don’t buy toilet paper there any more.
And even more Tudor stuff
We’re back for another installment of Mr. Al’s take on Henry the VIII. Warning, there is some rough language in this one.
***
One of the things I love about history are those moments when I put down a history book and exclaim, “What the hell was he thinking? How could he be that stupid?” Katherine’s story takes just such a turn. Soon after his conversation with Henry, Gardiner ordered the arrest of three of Katherine’s most important ladies-in-waiting; Lady Tyrwhitte, Lady Lane and Katherine’s sister, Lady Herbert. No rough stuff, but they were taken to the Tower for questioning. While there, their rooms were searched for banned reading materials.
The ladies were asked about their conversations with the Queen. Discuss religion much? How about that Martin Luther guy? Anything nice to say about him? Apparently nothing was found because the ladies were released without being charged with anything. Before all this happened Katherine knew she had to be careful. If she suspected that she had enemies in her husband’s court before, she knew it for a fact now. The arrest of her ladies-in waiting should have been a red flag the size of a mainsail to her.
Bishop Gardiner’s signature was on the arrest warrants. Katherine should have known that Gardiner didn’t have the juice to pull a stunt like that on his own dime. Henry would never have allowed it! Unless… So what did this very intelligent, common senseical woman do? She continued her theological debates with Henry. What in God’s name was she thinking? She KNEW they were looking for closet Protestants. She KNEW they suspected her. She should have known that Henry was supporting the investigation. Katherine Parr was a snow white bunny rabbit in the middle of a very large, very empty field and the sky overhead was filled with hungry hawks. And she continued to debate religion with Henry.
Henry listened very carefully to his wife’s arguments. He noted anything that might be suspicious. She prattled on and he listened. She prattled some more and he listened. Then, one day, he decided he had heard enough. He had a warrant for her arrest drawn up. The charge? Heresy. Which meant that she would be burned at the stake rather than beheaded. That Henry! He sure knew how to put on a show!
With the warrant before him, Henry signed it and handed it over to a trusted member of his Privy Council. This fellow was told to keep it under wraps until it was called for. No one was to know about it. This fellow was told to guard the document with his life. This fellow swore mighty oaths and promised to do as the king wished. No doubt fantasizing about the rich rewards that would come his way for being so loyal, this unnamed person allowed himself to become distracted enough to lose the warrant. He dropped it in a hallway where it was promptly found by one of the Queens servants.
Apparently this servant didn’t stop to consider the price she might pay for her loyalty to Katherine, because she took it strait to the Queen. Whatever illusions Katherine harbored regarding Henry’s tolerance of her unorthodox views went right out the window, along with her composure, upon reading the warrant. Henry was going to burn her at the stake as a heretic! She was way too smart to think she stood a snowball’s chance in hell of being found innocent. When Henry Tudor had a wife arrested, there was only one outcome.
How could she have misjudged him so badly? There was only one thing to be done, talk to Henry. But first, she’d take a moment or so to collapse on her bed, a screaming, hysterical mass of quivering royal jelly. Katherine lost it completely. So loud were her lamentations that Henry could hear them in his private rooms. Having no idea what was wrong, he sent his personal doctors to check it out.
One of them, Doctor Wendy, was the only other person, aside from the Privy Councilor, that Henry had confided in regarding the warrant. Some how or another, the good doctor figured out what was troubling Katherine. Without tipping off his colleague, Wendy sent him and everyone else out of the room so he could have a heart to heart with the Queen. She told him about the warrant. Oh dear. What was she going to do? The good doctor was completely on Katherine’s side. First and foremost, she had to pull herself together! They only had minutes to come up with a plan so she had to stop freaking out NOW!
***
This kind of behavior really brings home the realization that kings and queens are only people too. Good thing you’ve got another blog planned, Mr. Al. No way I’d let you quit here.
Alice
Mushroom-Walnut-Veggie Burgers
This one came to me from SparkNet, though I notice it didn’t originate with them.
Serves: 5
Serving Size: 1 burger
A wholesome and filling alternative to the traditional hamburger.
INGREDIENTS
3 Tbsp. bulgur
1/3 cup boiling water
1 Tbsp. canola oil
4 ounces sliced Portobello mushrooms, chopped
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 serrano or small jalapeño chile pepper, seeded and chopped
1/3 cup walnuts, chopped
1 cup canned pinto beans, rinsed and drained
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 large egg white
3 Tbsp. seasoned breadcrumbs
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
5 whole-wheat buns, split and toasted
5 tsp. coarse seed mustard
5 thin slices red onion
5 romaine lettuce leaves, washed and dried
DIRECTIONS
1. Place bulgur in a small bowl. Add hot water to cover. Let sit until grain softens, 20 minutes. Drain and set aside.
2. Heat oil in a medium skillet over high heat until very hot. Sauté mushrooms until the liquid they release evaporates. Add onions, garlic and chili pepper. Cook until soft, about 8 minutes. Mix in nuts, beans, Worcestershire and soy sauces. Remove from heat and let cool.
3. Transfer mixture to a food processor and pulse 4 times. Add bulgur and pulse 4 times, until mixture is finely chopped but not puréed. (Or, chop by hand until very fine.) Transfer to a mixing bowl. Mix in egg white, breadcrumbs and pepper, to taste. Form mixture into four patties.
4. Grill burgers about 2 1/2 minutes per side. (Or cook in a large non-stick skillet with 2 teaspoons oil over medium-high heat. Cook until browned on both sides, about 5 minutes in all.)
5. Spread mustard on cut sides of buns. Add a lettuce leaf to the bottom halves, then a burger, then a slice of red onion. Add the top halves of the buns and serve.
NUTRITION INFO
Calories: 314
Fat: 11.9 g
Carbohydrates: 40.1 g
Protein: 11.7 g
Printed with permission from the American Institute for Cancer Research.
The American Institute for Cancer Research (AICR) is the cancer charity that fosters research on diet and cancer and educates the public about the results.
Happy Eating
Alice
Suzie at the Crossroads
Every so often I come to a point where I could easily take the Suzie’s House story in a couple of different directions. I am at such a point right now.
About a month ago Ash asked for a love scene. I promised to deliver one as quickly as I could arrange it. I believe she was looking for something between Miranda and Vin, but it turns out the first opportunity for one is between Suzie and Drew.
Because my audience – particularly the part of my audience who approach me in town but never leave messages – tends to be a mixed bunch I have decided to keep this blog as close to a PG 13 rating as I can. If I didn’t, I suspect Mr. Al would be even more bloody minded in his history posts, some of the jokes I post would be more risque, and Suzie would get a bit more graphic. Those of you who have read Zackly Right will know what I mean.
I can’t give you a PG 13 love scene. I simply don’t have the dot dot dots in me. What I can do is set up a newsletter to which you can subscribe only if you are of age, put a cleaned up version of the scene on the blog and put the real love scene on the newsletter. I would only ever use the newsletter for those scenes of Suzie’s House that I can’t put on the blog.
So option 1 would be to set up a newsletter and next week provide those readers who subscribe with a love scene between Suzie and Drew. For several weeks now I’ve been toying with what to do about Ben. There are a lot of things I’d like to say about being a kid, teachers, school, the nature of family and divorce which I intend to vent through Ben. I already have a few paragraphs written from Ben’s point of view which I have every intention of posting soon. Like it or not, you’re going to be seeing a lot of Ben in the next few weeks.
Option 2 would be to skip the love scene and go straight to Ben.
There are a number of other things I could do next week. For instance, Christina asked to be written into the story as a particular kind of character some time ago. I’m about ready to bring in the character. Also, it has been suggested that I write something from a villains’ point of view. I could easily do so. I could do something in which Suzie and Drew ALMOST get it on, but not quite. I could surprise us all, myself included.
Option 3 is to pull a rabbit out of the hat and hope it doesn’t come back to bite me later.
Option 4 would be the promise of a love scene in the next couple of weeks, with the newsletter set up now, but to go straight to Ben next Friday.
Here’s your chance to make an impact on Suzie’s House. Let me know what you would like to see next week, and that’s where we will go.
Alice
Suzie’s House 30: The Confessional
Suzie looked so sweet even as she pulled her lower lip in between her teeth and wrinkled her brow in concern. She wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her thin arms crossed in front of her as if she were cold though it must be nearly 80 in the room. She looked small and fragile to him.
Drew put his arm across the back of the love seat, using it to turn himself toward her. He wasn’t making a pass like some raw teen-age boy in a movie theater. He was trying to offer her his sympathy, like a priest in the confessional. She needed to unload and he was there for her. That was all.
“You know I went to school with a sack lunch for Ben,” Suzie said.
Drew nodded.
“I shouldn’t have bothered. Lunch was already over by the time I got there. But you know that wasn’t really why I went.”
“You went to make sure the red-headed man hadn’t killed him. You don’t have to explain. I’d have done the same.”
Suzie looked relieved. Her voice came out breathy at first, then gained strength. “I knew you’d understand. He’s my son. I had to be sure. There wasn’t any sign of the red-haired man. Now it all seems kind of silly. Anyway, Ben has English right before lunch. I went to his classroom. His teacher was sitting there with her lunch and no one in the room. As soon as she saw me, she jumped up. She said she’d been wanting to talk to me for a while now. I really didn’t want to see her. She has said a few things about my divorce that I didn’t agree with.”
“What did she…?” Drew stopped himself as Suzie turned eyes burning with anger toward him.
“She started in on me as soon as she saw me. She said Ben hasn’t been turning in his assignments. I don’t know why he wouldn’t turn in his papers. I know he did them because I helped him with them.”
Drew had also helped Ben a time or two. Some of the assignments were intimidating even for a Federal bureaucrat used to writing reports. In particular, one on Mesopotamian religious practices came to mind. He nodded agreement, but didn’t try to interrupt.
“You have to remember, I went there thinking he might have been killed, or kidnapped, or something. So I demanded to know where he was. She wouldn’t tell me! She kept going on and on about his schoolwork. I was already upset, and she just made it worse.”
Suzie looked away, apparently unable to look him in the eye right then. “I said some things I shouldn’t have. Especially when she grabbed a pile of papers from her desk and started waving them. Ben’s assignment was right on top! Then I really said some things I shouldn’t have.”
She seemed surprised by herself, as if anyone else would have been more restrained. Or maybe as if she expected too much of herself. Drew couldn’t help himself. He touched her shoulder lightly.
If she noticed, she gave no indication. “Boy, she didn’t like it much when I pointed out that his assignment was right there. And maybe I shouldn’t have hit her hand away from my face. But it wasn’t assault!
“She goes running down the hall, yelling her fool head off, and I go off looking for Ben. He was in Math, of course. I wish I’d remembered before I got to his English class.
“I asked to have him step into the hall. I wanted to warn him about the red-haired man. That’s when Mrs. D, the English teacher, comes running up with the Vice Principal. She accused me of hitting her and threatening her, which I didn’t do. Not really. I mean I didn’t do anything worse than what she did.”
Suzie turned a beseeching face toward him. Though Drew still wasn’t exactly sure what happened he murmured agreement. He wanted to pull her close, to hug her. She’d had the kind of bad day he could relate to.
“Then Rob turned up and Ben just lost it. I was yelling, and Ben was yelling, and Mrs. D was yelling. The Vice Principal threw me out and sent Ben home with Rob.”
Suzie drew a deep breath. “They called him because of something I said, I’m sure. I kind of told Mrs. D there is a murder stalking everyone in my house. They must think I’ve lost my mind.”
Unable to resist, Drew pulled her close. “Tomorrow I’ll go flash my badge around, let the administration know Ben may be a target in a stalking case. I don’t know if it will help keep him safe, but it’ll let them know you aren’t crazy.”
“Thank you.” She sounded so relieved. Suzie leaned into him. He felt his shoulder grow damp through his cotton shirt. Suzie was crying.
“Hey, hey, hey. None of that,” he said gently, lifting her chin to look her in the eye. “It could have happened to anyone.”
Suzie shook her head. “I’m so afraid Rob will use this against me. He’s been pushing for full custody. With everything that’s happened, I’m afraid he could get it.” The tears rolled down her face, big and fat.
Drew brushed gently, smearing the salty water across her cheek.
“Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“Do you really believe that?” Her eyes were enormous, swimming in tears as she looked up at him, her lips inches away.
“Yes,” he said with a lot more confidence than he felt.
He should let her go now, maybe pat her hand. He should get off the love seat and leave the office.
Instead he leaned forward a fraction of an inch and set his lips to hers.
The previous was Suzie’s House 29: Guilting the Lilly
This is Suzie’s House 30: The Confessional
Next is Suzie’s House 31: A Sympathetic Ear
Up in the Air
I just got back from a short trip out of town and I’m feeling a little up in the air. I know there are a million things to do, but frankly, all I really want is to catch up on my sleep. Give me a day or two, and I’m sure I’ll be back on all four.
Alice
How to Reduce Ossification in Writing
For me the most effective way of getting over ossification is simply to give it some time. When I’ve finished another project and come back I often see the story with fresh eyes. This allows me to get over the firm belief nothing really needs to be changed, and to see clearly what should be preserved
Unluckily people like Ericka aren’t always going to have time because they are under contract. I think most of them are going to have to rely on their editors to guide them in what needs to be dealt with.
Now that I’ve been through the process a few times I know what it feels like to be ossified. I make myself step back and pretend to be someone who has never seen the story before. I try to see a completely different set of images as I read than what I had in mind as I wrote. Surprisingly often I can actually come up with a radically different story then what I thought I was writing.
I don’t always try to force the material to match what I had in mind. Sometimes a new reading will actually show me something better. Then I simply tweak the words to heighten the new vision of how the story goes. More often than not going with a new vision will produce a much better story than what I thought I was writing to begin with.
I you have a CP you trust completely, you can pass the material to the CP. This only works if there is enough trust. Otherwise, ossification trumps a CP’s opinion and you only end up arguing.
I know some people will do a kind of outline of their book after they have written it, one even puts it in a spreadsheet. Then they can look at the story from a structural point of view, maybe charting the hero’s path, or checking the GMC. This is also a way around ossification.
Regardless of what tool you grab to deal with it, I think the most important thing is to be aware of the phenomenon, and be prepared to deal with it.
Alice
