Monday school was canceled, because of snow, and the wind chill was 35-40° below zero. Brrrrrr…it was sooo cold! Dorcas said that when she was going to work, the wind was blowing so hard she couldn't see a thing, because of the snow swirling madly every which way.
On the days school is canceled, Dorcas is extra busy at the daycare, because there more children there than ever--and it was especially so Monday, since three of her coworkers didn't show up. Two are from out of town, and couldn’t make it on account of the poor road conditions. The third one was sick (supposedly), and didn’t even bother to call in.
That evening, we went out delivering the music I’d just finished writing on my Mozart32 program. We stopped at Wal-Mart to buy a few presents.
I thought I was done with all the music--finally--but it's always sure to be: as soon as I am quite, quite sure that I have finished, somebody pops up needing another part, in another key, of another song. So back to Mozart I go..
Tuesday I was in Lincoln all day--and I DO mean ALL DAY -- (well, part of the time was spent en route, of course) -- taking Teddy to the doctor for a checkup, and to the physical therapist for a new, specially fitted splint, and for instructions on when and how to start therapizing (that's a word, I'm SURE it is; and if it isn't, it SHOULD be; Noah Webster just didn't happen to think of it, probably not having had a son who needed it done) his finger.
The appointment with Teddy's surgeon was at 3:15 p.m., so we left home at 1:00, thinking we'd have plenty of time to get there. Victoria came, too; the other children went to school, and Hannah said she would be with them after school.
But we DIDN'T get there in time. First, I didn't know where the doctor's office was, so we spent some time heading north instead of south, and, once that error was rectified, we frittered away another bit of time heading east instead of west, until--amazingly enough--we found the place.
(Woooooooooowoooooo! You ought to try this coffee I’m drinking. "PLEASE HAND ME A FORK, SO I CAN EAT MY COFFEE!" I think Hester got a wee bit carried away with the Folgers. I'M AWAKE, I'M AWAKE! WooowoowoowooWOOwoowoowooWOOwoowoowooWOO!!!)
Anyway, it didn’t matter that we were late; we sat in the doctor's office until 5:30, mind you, just waiting our turn to see him. Aarrgghh. I started worrying that I wouldn't get home in time for practice with the band and orchestra...
Luckily, I'd taken a couple of new photograph albums, along with stacks and stacks of pictures, and I spent the time putting pictures into albums--a Christmas present for Lawrence and Norma. Each album holds 300 pictures, and the following day I bought another album and managed to fill it about two-thirds full.
Eventually, the nurse called, "Teddy Jackson!"
We leapt to our feet. I pushed my large bag of album and pictures under my chair, and hoped somebody didn't spot it under there and call the bomb squad, or something...or, worse, that everyone in the waiting room would decide to put the pictures into their proper places for me. We dashed back to the examining room, where we waited some more.
At last a nurse came and took the wrap and bandages off Teddy's hand and finger. It was the first time I had actually seen the injury. He had made another small cut just about the bad one, but it will heal okay--and he had made a cut on the index finger, also. It, too, will heal okay.
The nurse, after promising pencils and stickers to both Teddy and Victoria (“No one is ever too old for pencils,” she assured Teddy), exited the room.
Victoria took one look at that terrible-looking cut on Teddy’s finger and turned pale as a ghost.
Teddy and I set about to distract her.
I put my finger on her nose and gave it a light push.
I frowned and did it again.
I shook my head and tried it the third time.
Then I whispered in her ear, “Your horn is broken; it won’t even toot.”
She giggled.
The nurse returned with the aforesaid pencils and stickers; Teddy relinquished his prize to Victoria. She made ready to peel the sticker off its backing and affix it to her dress--and then she took a good look at the picture on it: it was Santa, clad in nothing but his BVDs, hat, and boots.
Her arm shot straight out, and she held the abhorrent thing far, far away from herself. “HE HASN’T GOT HIS CLOTHES ON!” she howled--
--and with that, the doctor walked in.
Victoria jerked her arm back into her own territory and crushed the stickers into her palm.
The doctor looked at Teddy’s finger.
He proclaimed it to be healing nicely, and told us where to go to see the therapist, who would make his personally fitted splint for him.
And that's all he did: he took the bandages off, and looked at that finger.
All that waiting---just for that. I could've done that!!! In fact, I could’ve done it faster: Just grab the end of the bandage and PULLLL, right? Pull the bandage harder…faster…spin that patient around! WheeeeeeeEEEEEEEEeeeeee!
The doctor sent us down the hill (the clinic is built on a hill) (yes, there are hills in Nebraska) and around the corner to the other side of the clinic...So off we went to see the therapist.
By that time, it was already dark. We liked the therapist; he was nice, and he really knew what he was doing. He made Teddy a custom-made splint. They put it on wet, quite warm, shape it just right, so that it fits perfectly, and then dry it with an ice cube and something in an aerosol can called "Cold Spray". A younger man was helping for a while; he was friendly and nice; we liked him, too.
Meanwhile, I called home to say I was not going to get back in time for practice... but I only got our answering machine, and I was afraid nobody would bother listening to the messages. I asked to borrow a computer so I could send an email---and they let me! I wrote to several people, asking them to please postpone practice until Wednesday night.
Fortunately, Dorcas checked for email at about 6:30 p.m., and some friends of ours managed to get everyone called before 7:00. Whew! Lucky thing there are such things as computers!
While I was typing that note, Victoria, sitting on my lap watching operations, informed me, "I'm hungry!!! "
"So am *I*," I said, and my stomach immediately growled, just to prove its point.
Victoria looked down at my stomach and said, "What did you say?"--because I've said that to HER so often. hee hee
We no sooner got back out into the room where Teddy was, than the younger man asked Victoria if she was hungry.
"No," said she ever so quietly, shaking her head.
I laughed. "She just got through telling me she was!" I exclaimed.
Victoria smiled.
So the man went and got her a plate of tortilla chips, and cheese nip crackers. He also offered her orange juice or milk... Guess what she chose?
Water.
Victoria was tickled pink with all those chips. She put a cheese nip on each tortilla chip, and said she was having chip sandwiches. And she ate that whole plateful!
She offered a few to me, but I declined. "But you said YOU were hungry, TOO!" protested Victoria.
The doctors asked if there were any children in between Teddy and Victoria.
I said, "Teddy is our fourth, and Victoria is our ninth."
Their eyebrows shot straight up to the ceiling, and then they laughed. "Shall I tell her?" asked the younger.
The older man replied, "You're the one doing the talking!"
So the younger one said, motioning at the other man, "We are brothers. He is the fourth, and I am the ninth."
Imagine that!
We finally finished at the therapist's office at 7:30 p.m. Teddy’s finger is rather sore, but healing nicely...he must be ever and ever so very careful with it for almost three months. Teddy did not get to play his trombone for the program; too bad... But we didn't want to do anything that might cause permanent damage. Better three months of inaction now, than years and years of inaction later.
Cut tendons and nerves can be disastrous. We did learn much about therapy. I wish we lived in Lincoln, so we could continue with these doctors…but I don’t imagine we could afford them, in any case.
We will transfer to the therapists here in Columbus, the same place Dorcas went when she hurt her knee. Teddy's surgeon, and the therapists too, are the people who work with the Husker football team members when they have injuries. They are the best of the best. They probably charge accordingly, too…AND WE DON'T HAVE INSURANCE. Aarrgghh!
I wish we could sue those girls who ran Teddy off the road, just so they could pay part of the bill...but I don't suppose that's possible.
After leaving the therapists’ office, we drove straight to the nearest Amigos to EAT. I hadn't had anything to eat, all day, and I was so starved, I think I could've eaten a grizzly bear.
Or at least the grizzly’s cub.
As a poor substitute, I had chicken ranch nachos. Teddy ordered a cheeseburger, and Victoria had a soft-shelled taco. So there were Teddy and Victoria each with one little thing in a wrapper...while I had a humungous plate piled high with food.
Fortunately for Teddy, I got full before I was done--and Victoria did, too--so Teddy got to finish our food for us.
After we left the fast food place, we drove to a big mall. We were able to get in at least an hour's worth of rather frenzied shopping… We went in the JCPenneys store, and…guess what? Teddy found presents for Amy. That was the main reason we went shopping, you see! Coats were on sale, so I bought one for Larry…with his own money, of course. I suppose I could’ve robbed the local Casey’s, so as to have enough money of my very own with which to buy his coat… ha!
Teddy got Amy the cutest little clock--with tiny violins and French horns and scrolls of music all around it. He also got her a cut crystal necklace and bracelet. He already had a big jewelry box he’d gotten earlier.
At one point, Victoria had to make use of the water facilities (where are they where are they where are they) (run run run run run).
As we made our loooong way down a little narrow hallway, whom should we meet but Santa, coming down the hall from the men's room. He must've been a wee bit hot, because he'd removed his coat. His britches legs were rolled up, and he had on bright green something-or-others underneath...green long johns? Green pjs? That's what they looked like. In fact, he closely resembled the Santa on Victoria’s stickers.
Have you ever tried to lead a three-year-old along by the hand, when said three-year-old is in a completely backwards mode? She was looking back at Santa...eyes wide...
We had no sooner gotten into the ladies room and shut the door, than she erupted into peals of laughter. When she could get a breath, she gasped, "Oh, HAHAHAHA!!! That guy was part Santa Claus, and part clown!!!"
Everywhere we went, somebody was sure to ask her if she'd seen Santa yet. She only stared at them, and shook her head 'no'.
"Well, you will!" one man assured her. "Your mom will take you to him!"
She shook her head. If he had’ve known the child better, he would have realized that the look she bestowed upon him was one of total disdain.
"Yes she will!" he proclaimed jovially.
She shook her head.
"Is he too scary?" he queried condescendingly.
She shook her head.
"Well, I know you're going to go see him," he expostulated, "BECAUSE I KNOW YOUR MOM WENT TO SEE HIM, TOO, WHEN SHE WAS JUST YOUR SIZE!!!"
She shook her head.
We departed the store, Victoria the very picture of indignation and disapproval.
When we arrived in the hall, she turned to me and announced in an extraordinarily disgusted voice, "I DON'T GO SEE SANTA, BECAUSE THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS SANTA; HE'S JUST A FAT OLD MAN IN A RED FUZZ, AND HE STINKS!"
He stinks?! Where in the world did she come up with that, I wondered???? Then I realized: the hallway in which we met the green-pajamaed Santa had a malodorous stench wafting about, just over our heads. She must’ve thought it was him, giving off that aroma!
"I will go to the Christmas Program and hear about Baby Jesus," she continued, and nodded her head firmly.
We walked on along the mall, coming to a display of all sorts of beautiful china dolls. Teddy thought Amy might like one, but the prettiest was $40.
I said, "Wait till we get home! There are dolls bigger and prettier than that at--of all places--the truck stop in Columbus.”
So, after we got home, I trotted out to the truck stop and got a big, beautiful china doll.
I had earlier bought the little girls some smaller china dolls there. Victoria’s is musical, and rocks back and forth.
The roads were fine, for once. I took the Valpraiso route on the way home, over hill and dale... (I like those sorts of routes best.) I was busy gabbing to Teddy, and I kept looking down at my speedometer to see---AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! I was going 75 mph! BRAKES, MORE BRAKES, MORE BRAKES.
So you can see by that that the roads must not have been too bad--either that, or I went airborne over the icy parts.
By the time we got home, I was getting decidedly nervous about all I had left to do, and the short amount of time left in which to do it. Time was flying, and I had programs to print...piano to practice…presents to purchase...pockets to pick…
PLEASE PASS THE FUDGE!!!”
Tuesday, the last day of school before Christmas vacation, the children came home with presents they’d made in school. Caleb made me the cutest little gingerbread boy--it's made from a paper sack, and he painted it. He started by cutting out a front and a back to his gingerbread boy, punched little holes all around the edges, and then laced it together with white yarn. He stuffed it with cotton, and he put ginger and spice potpourri in the middle. It is sitting here on my desk, and smells mmmm, good. (As usual, he couldn't wait until Christmas to give it to me.)
Hester and Lydia cross-stitched pictures on tea towels. Lydia, too, gave hers to me early.
Funny, dear little kiddos of mine. I just love them to pieces!
On our police scanner Wednesday afternoon, we heard the dispatcher announcing many vehicles in the ditch. The roads are a glaze of ice, with snow covering the ice…
Speaking of icy roads, have I ever told you about the time I helped my mother-in-law across the street after church one day? Poor lady.
I was about 16 years old…
Did you know that if you slide along gracefully, pretending you are ice skating, you can navigate quite nicely, even in spiked heels?
Well... Norma needed to cross the street to get to her car in the parking lot. The street was covered with rutted ice, and she was nervous about it. I had on high heels, but, in the manner of 16-year-olds, I was NOT nervous.
I decided to help her.
This, for unknown reasons, made her even more nervous.
(she has never forgiven me for this)
(do NOT remind her of it)
I took a good grip on her arm and RAN across the road, saying, "The quicker you get across, the less chance there is of falling in the middle!"
She laughed all the way across, while trying to put on her brakes--but brakes did no good whatsoever, on that ice. So she merely sllllllid across--Wheeeeeeeeeeee!
When I was little, I told my mother that she needn't worry about slipping on the ice and getting hurt : if she started to slip, all she needed to do was to jump real hard, and land in a snowdrift. I was dead serious; I really thought that would work. (Doesn't come off quite right, though; have you ever tried it?)
I am writing slower than usual today, because everyone is asking me this and that---and I can't concentrate. HELP! Our next-door neighbor lady just brought us a great big--and I DO mean "great big"--frozen ham. Teddy must be hungry; he promptly got it out of its wrap, and is asking me what to set the oven on...
Now Caleb is asking me what an alleycat is...
Victoria is asking me why the piano lid is down...
Lydia is telling me what her cousin Sharon gave her for Christmas at their school Christmas gift exchange...
Victoria is asking me if she can have some gum...
But Hester just gave me some fresh coffee---I'm ready to do some serious typing! (after I answer all those questions, that is.)
Uh, oh. There are landslides and avalanches happening in the kitchen. There are pans hitting the floor...dishes clattering...
Teddy is trying to put the pan in the oven --------
I MUST GO HELP HIM!
(Donning my helmet)
(avoiding the beads in pots and pans on the floor...) (the littles are "cooking")
Okay, I’m back.
Now Victoria wants to know what the apparatus on the loveseat is (it's a fax machine) and she wants to know what it's for, and what it does, and why…
Hannah is telling me something...my brain is functioning at half-mast… You must be patient with me!
Dorcas is home, coming in the door--and, as usual, we hear the rattling of plastic shopping bags. "There is a limit to how much 'Stuff' a house can hold, dearie..."
Wednesday night we spent two hours practicing with the band and orchestra. I hoped that was enough…it always seems like Christmas comes before we have finished all the practicing we need to do. It's a lot of work, it sho' 'nuff is; but I sure do enjoy it. And yes…would you believe--I had MORE music to write???? AArrrggghhh! There's no END to it! :~)
Well... I headed off to Mozart32. I can't get presents wrapped -- I must write another musical part for somebody. I can't clean house -- I must write another musical part for somebody. I can't practice the piano -- I must write another musical part for somebody. I can't finish sewing -- I must write another musical part for somebody.
But eventually the music was done (and this time, it was really done), and I advanced on to the wash machine. And the kitchen table, since I’d not eaten supper before practice. And my room, where awaited piles of things to wrap. Why, oh why, won't they keep that wretched Wal-Mart open when you need it??????
Thursday, I typed the program and copied it onto the pretty program papers. This takes a long time, as I have to stand there and hand-feed the fussy machine, because the program papers are too thick to come through the paper drawer.
I took a short break to drive to the bank with Larry. On the way, we stopped to get gas and cappuccino. I would’ve liked that stuff (speaking of the cappuccino; not the gas), if it had not have tasted so much like clabbered milk and mop bucket water. Bleah!
One day this week, our friend Pablo told us about buying a coconut when he was in Frisco, Colorado:
“The problem was: HOW IN THE WORLD DO I OPEN A COCONUT? eh? a superknife? a can opener? a saw? a Molotov bomb? HOW????
“Do you wanna know how I opened it?
“I slammed it to the floor. Several times, till it cracked open. And THEN... I drank the juice and asked myself if that was all about coconuts. It tasted like sweet water. Then I grabbed a knife and start cutting slices of the white copra. eeackkkkk!!!! It was gummy.”
I then told Pablo about our experience with coconuts.
I brought home a coconut, and set about trying to open it.
I got out the sandwich knife; I put it away. I got out the bread knife; I put it away. I got out a billy club; I put it away. I got out a chain saw; I put it away. I got out Aleutia; I put her away.
Finally---(I WAS GOING TO GET THAT THING OPEN OR DIE IN THE ATTEMPT)---I opened the garage door...
and...
with all my might and main...
I flung it onto the cement floor in the garage.
Crrrrrraaaackckck!
It split right open.
“So!” I said to Pablo, “We were both equally intelligent, at opening coconuts!”
One does lose the coconut milk, that way...but I don't like that kind of milk, anyway. Bleah again.
Larry has had a bad cold for a couple of weeks, and this last week, it got steadily worse. He has stayed home from work since last Friday. He had such a bad cough, I was afraid he had pneumonia. Then, on top of the cold, he got the flu. I threatened to take him to the doctor, whether he wanted to go or not; so he hurriedly got a bit weller (another of those words that isn’t but should be), just in case I meant it.
Our last Christmas Program practice was 7:00 Friday evening. We finished a little after nine. I was wondering, just how long is this program, anyway? Yes, we DID go over several things twice; and it DID take a little while to practice the ups and downs with the orchestra and band and those that don’t play…all coming in neatly and in order… (worry worry worry worry worry worry worry)
Saturday I wrapped presents…wrapped presents…wrapped presents…and wrapped presents. I like wrapping presents (although I prefer to have it done earlier)…I put men’s work gloves in wrapping paper tubes…I cram men’s thick socks into small mocha cans…I put small gifts into small boxes which I then put into boxes of ascending sizes, all properly weighted so as to fool even the very best of guessers…
Sunday, the family would be coming to our house for dinner. I had so much to do Saturday--wrapping presents, shopping, practicing piano, sewing, putting another log on the fire, and changing an old tire (or was that a song I heard once?)--that I went to the grocery store and bought six Self-Rising, Pleasant-Tasting, Fast-Acting, Green-and-Purple Pizzas. Ooops… How did Ray Stevens get into this post? SUPREME pizzas. That's what they were. And that will be my laziest Sunday dinner ever. (Well, I WILL open up a few cans of peaches, or something, to go with the pizza...)
And then it was Sunday. Larry stayed home from Sunday School and church; but he did manage to make it to the program, although he didn’t feel well. The program lasted an hour and 35 minutes, which is a little longer than I intended it to be. But everything went nicely. The children sang wonderfully, and the songs were beautiful…so it didn’t really seem as long as it was. There was one small fluff when both trumpets didn't quite make one terribly terribly HIGH note. One faded out, but the other hit it okay, so nobody’s Christmas socks got holes punched in them from somebody curling their toes tightly from ear trauma and horror.
Home again, the children were opening their gifts. Joseph turned out all the lights, so his father could properly see how bright his new flashlight was, effectively stymieing his siblings’ progress with their presents.
Hester got a cute wooden necklace from Dorcas with a little boy and a little girl and big beads. Dorcas gave me a neat sweater vest with cute little thingamajigger-whatchamacallits all over the front of it.
She showed it to me a few days ago, and I ooohed and aaahed over it.... so she GAVE it to me!
Last night, Joseph asked me to wrap a present for Dorcas. I did so, and put the nametag on it.…Then he took it, and, unbeknownst to me, he whited-out the name "Dorcas" and put "Mama" in its place. I wrapped my own present! It's a really nice pen--a fat one with a rubber grip--called Mr. Grip.
Perfect for conking wayward kids on the head. (Come back here, Joseph.)
I tell you, the way to get lots of presents for Christmas is to have lots of kids! Dorcas also gave me a big picture frame, with cutouts for different sized pictures. Let’s see.... Maybe I'll put a picture of Tad in one....Tad in the other....Tad in the next one....Tad in the fourth one....Tad in the fifth....Tad, Tad, Tad, Tad. There. Picture frame full!
Larry had bought a stuffed cow at a truck stop in Indiana; we gave it to Caleb. When it is squeezed, it goes into its mooing/hysterical laughing/shaking routine. It is ridiculous and absurd and totally goofy…and Caleb loves it.
Guess what one of Victoria's favorite presents is: A roll of Scotch tape. She loves to tape things, so I made sure to get plenty of rolls of tape, so that when I was done wrapping presents, I might have one left over to wrap up for her. I wrote her name on it with a permanent marker.
While I was wrapping presents, Victoria was 'borrowing' pieces of tape, bits of wrapping paper, and 'wrapping' up all manner and variety of 'presents'. I had to be careful to check wads of paper before tossing them in the garbage--there might be something of value inside!
Indeed, when I was sorting presents (some for church…some for Jacksons...some for Swineys), I found all sorts of odd little 'packages' and ‘presents’ tucked into my boxes, compliments of Victoria.
Before we knew it, it was midnight. The children straggled off to bed, Larry conked out in the recliner, and there I was--sitting amongst stacks and piles of Christmas cards, looking at all the pictures our friends had given us, wound up and still going strong, wishing for somebody around to talk to.
Monday we went to church at 12:30 to sing Christmas songs. The dinner was at 1:00. We would not be well mannered enough for the likes of Windsor Palace, I think; Caleb decided to make a ham sandwich with his dinner roll and his slice of ham. Not that that's such a crime--I wouldn't mind, really, but the Queen would surely look down her elegant nose. I said that if he was going to do that, perhaps he should run home and get himself a slice of mozzarella cheese and some lettuce, too--and he got the hint and removed the ham from the roll and ate it in a more decorous fashion, with knife and fork.
And then!---Victoria decided to have a ham and pickle sandwich.
She can't cut her own meat (not without landing it on the floor, she can't)... so she just put the slice of pickle atop the slice of ham, stabbed the whole works with her fork, held it up like a shish ka-bob, and nibbled around the edges.
I hastily dispatched pickle and ham back onto the plate and cut things into bite-sizes for her.
While I was occupied with that worthy chore, she dumped her glass of water over, and Hester, on the other side of the table, leapt to her feet and ran for her life, to avoid the baptismal. Lura Kay, next to Hester, helped swab the deck with the napkins we all tossed from our end of the table.
Aarrgghh!
* * *
Tuesday, December 26, 2000
Monday evening, we went to Keith and Esther’s house for a family get-together. By the time the Christmas dinner was over, Larry had the flu; so he wasn’t able to go with us, too bad.
Teddy just came around the corner and said, "Mama, I really like this shirt---but something's wrong."
I turned around and looked at him---and there he was, crammed into a shirt I’d given him for Christmas--and it is at least a couple sizes too small. hee hee Guess Joseph gets another shirt, eh?
Teddy was getting ready to visit the therapist. It was his first visit to the Columbus therapist.
Larry thought he was feeling better... so he ate some breakfast...and then he was sick again. You ought to see our living room... there are packages, boxes, and rumpled wrapping paper strewn all over EVERYwhere.
This is the first day in weeks that I am not sleepy. After sleeping only three or four hours every night for days on end, I tried writing my weekly letter last night... but I was toooooooooo tooooo sleeeeeeeeeeepy. I thought I could get by with that skimpy amount of sleep for a while, in order to get everything done that I needed to do. After all!--I’m really fast at things, and people who sleep extremely fast can cram eight hours of sleep into a measly four hours, can't they? Well, can’t they??!
Have you ever noticed how dreams go in slow motion? If you fall in a hole, you go on falling forever and ever, and the bottom like to never comes up to meet you.
Once I finally go to sleep, one of the few things that can awaken me is one of the children saying my name, even if it’s ever so softly… "Mama?" --and I pop wide awake again.
Anyway, I went to bed earlier than usual last night, and I slept eleven hours! I haven't done that EVER.
(Well, maybe ONE other time.)
I'm rarin' to go! I could climb Mt. Everest! I could parachute! Parasail! Learn to deep-sea dive! Paraglide! Pole a banana boat! I could take a mountain-bike excursion! Raft the Snake River! Wheeeeeeeeeee! I'm AWAKE for the first time in a month! I could jet ski! Take a spaceship to Mars!
Have you ever slept for eleven hours straight?
(Mind you, I'm still drinking coffee.)
Tonight we are going to my niece Susan's house…we used to call it the "Swiney" get-together, but now there are more Walkers than Swineys... and more Jacksons than Swineys...it really should be called the "Walker" get-together.
Next year, perhaps, we will bow out of it, since there are getting to be toooo many people in one house. We will have our own get-together, I think, with just our children---and grandchild.
Tad is squalling at the door…Joseph is letting him out...I hope those neighbors who must've had him in their house don't take him again. We've hardly let him out since that happened.
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