Brookes’ Bytes

There’s no need for any other words starting with “n” here, cause this post will be all about Nayt.

As I’m typing this, my husband is getting on his bike to ride home from Best Buy in Tri-County with a copy of Starcraft 2…I think that’s a great way to start a paragraph about my husband. It says so much.

Since I’ve been with Nayt, I’ve learned that boys like to play games as a way to bond with each other. I’ve learned that boys can be cat people. I’ve learned that a pitcher of cold iced tea and a piece of cheesecake can be considered “dinner.” I’ve learned that a long bike ride while listening to podcasts on tech toys will give him the space to let his mind breathe. I’ve learned that he holds his stress in his back and shoulders. I’ve learned that he will mow the lawn even though he’s allergic to grass. I’ve learned that adventure is important: even if it’s fulfilled in video games, tv shows or geocaching. I’ve learned that Nayt worships by serving. I’ve learned that boys can’t help it if their farts are stinky…after all, who made the chili have beans in it? That would be me!

Nayt is a boy. Therefore, becoming friends with him was weird for me. I speak girl pretty fluently, I think. Well, a certain dialect of girl: artsy, feminine and silly. Nayt speaks boy, but a certain dialect of boy: techie, sarcastic and silly. It’s sometimes hard to translate what he’s saying into something I can process in my girly brain. But man is it worth the effort. Sometimes on a ride home from work, Nayt will just gush about a random article he read or installing network cables and the jargon is like, “huh? what does THAT mean?” But he’s just speaking Nayt. Adjust your tuning dial and you’ll get him in strong.

He’s pretty good at translating Jes. He can tell when I need space, or when to turn on Over the Rhine when I request “any tunes.” He knows why a craft room is important. He thanks me when I make his favorite foods. He gives me long hugs. He makes me laugh. He takes me to UDF when I need an orange freeze. He plays with our cat. He watches foreign movies with me. He sits through ballets and then asks me questions about it after. He talks to me about important things like church politics, the fundamentals in religion, physics and science in relation to philosophy and religion, what he’s learning about Scripture, hurdles in communication between humans…he’s a walking, living, breathing analyst. Nayt is never boring. I could never think the phrase, “geez, I wish Nayt would do something interesting.” Lol. He’s always doing something new, thinking something new, trying something new. I love this about him.

Of all the stories I could tell, I will just tell one: when we started dating, Nayt wanted to do something special for the first birthday I had when we were together. I was living in Clifton in a huge apartment with my friend Sara. This apartment had a fireplace that we had never used, due to lack of firewood and my lack of fire-making skills. For my birthday, Nayt had some big plan, that he had to throw out the window based on some comments I had made leading up to my birthday. Apparently I was stressed out with full-time school and full-time work and didn’t want to think about DOING anything. So, taking that as a major hint (when I wasn’t trying to squash his plans at all but was just venting), he decided to spend a week chopping firewood at his house. And for my birthday, he gave me a roaring fire in my apartment. I was born in November and at that point, it wasn’t that cold. The fireplace hadn’t been cleaned very well and the floo was clogged, so smoke went EVERYWHERE. But I loved it. When I saw his blistered hands and smelled the campy smell, I knew he loved me. Nayt is good at sacrifice. He laid down his plans for what he thought I wanted. Who wouldn’t love a guy like that?

I love you, baby.

Always,
your Jes

Mail: I love getting snail mail. I like opening the mailbox (or mail flap in our case) and seeing a non-bill related piece of post. It’s nice to break up the bills with non-bills. My friend Lauren and I have been sending journals with letters back and forth since we both went to college. Sometimes it’s a month (or two, or four) before I send it. But it always makes my day when I see that big puffy envelope with Lauren’s handwriting on it. I know that email is much easier and quicker as a method of correspondence. But there’s something elegant about a piece of paper with someone’s handwriting on it. The time that it takes me to hand-write anything is much greater than the time it takes me to type it, so on the surface, a hand-written letter means a larger investment of time into the recipient. I also like to hold things in my hand while I read them. That’s probably why people like me will continue to frequent libraries and buy books and write letters, even when e-cards, e-mail and e-books dominant the market. Snail mail may be old school, but it’s cool!

Molasses cookies: My mom gave me this fantastic cookie cookbook that I cherish. It’d probably be something I’d put in a fireproof box, if we had one. Mostly cause you can’t freakin find it on amazon…and whatever you can’t find on amazon.com is pretty unfindable. This cookie cookbook contains some of the best recipes I’ve ever tried. And it’s nice when you try recipes that turn out right the first time you risk the ingredients! My molasses cookie recipe hails from this wonderful cookbook. To tell you that my molasses cookies are unbelievably good would seem arrogant, but it’s true. They are DELICIOUS. Imagine a ginger snap that’s four times bigger than a ginger snap and SOFT. Imagine a fresh, warm batch cooling on a sheet of aluminum foil while you pour yourself a glass of milk…imagine taking a bite into a fresh, hot cookie that tastes like a spicy burst of heaven and you would begin to understand why I love this recipe. Mmmmmm. Maybe I should go make some right now!

Moms: There’s something about moms: they know just the right words to say when you feel like a loser, they are the best comforters when you’re sick, they know your favorite things and remember the parts of your history that you forget. No matter how old I am, when I’m sick, I wish my mom were with me to take care of me. The last time I was really sick, I was actually at her house. She rubbed my back while I puked into a toilet and when I was upset cause I HATE throwing up, she said, “I know, Jes. This is awful.” She didn’t sugar-coat stuff, she just agreed that it’s miserable to be sick. Oddly enough, that made me feel better. Moms change nasty diapers, handle backtalk and kids leaving the nest. Moms are creative. They pour themselves into their children. I know my mom is special to me, cause she’s good at making me feel like it’s ok to express myself. I want to be a mom like my mom.

Musicals: “There’s no business like show business like no business I know!” Name THAT musical. The first musical I ever saw was The Sound of Music. My Uncle Water and Aunt Leah bought me that Anniversary edition that was two videocassettes with a cassette tape of the songs as a bonus. I think I was 7 or 8. I remember only watching the first part and then being so disappointed that the second tape was mostly Nazi stuff. I loved the beginning, with the mountains and the orchestra and the swells until that moment at the clearing where Julie Andrews is spinning around and sings: “The hills are alive…” Man, you can’t beat that. All those Rodgers and Hammerstein movies were GREAT. I remember Mom liking the heroine in State Fair, cause she was an alto. And Shirley Jones in Oklahoma and Carousel; Dad used to make fun of the way she sang with her mouth REALLY wide open. Musicals combined two of my favorite things: stories and music. To a kid, people flailing around to music in the middle of Saltzburg seems perfectly normal. My sister and I danced and sang in the Fircrest grocery store all the time! Even now, when I go to a musical, my heart starts beating faster when the orchestra swells and the curtains part and the chorus comes in. It doesn’t have to be something serious. Legally Blond was pretty entertaining. And don’t get me started on Les Miserables, or Wicked, or Ragtime…musicals allow me to embrace two parts of my self: reader and singer. So, turn up the showtunes so I can prance around my house!

Laughter: Contagious laughter, my dad’s wheezy laugh, Nayt hysterically laughing at some tv show…these things give my abs a workout. You can tell when someone is appeasing the not-so-funny amateur comedian’s joke. And you can tell when someone is TRULY laughing. I love it when I’m with my family or my in-laws and stories are told that make everyone laugh. Eyes light up. And the whole room feels warmer.

Libraries: There’s a whole world of literature that would never be read by us “commonfolk” if there weren’t public libraries. Even as an adult, walking into one makes me feel good…even though the funding for libraries has been shrunk and now I check out books with a computer not a human, which is weird. I couldn’t be in a book club if it weren’t for libraries, cause I can’t afford to buy a new book every month. And the library has DVDs and CDs! I remember, as a high schooler, borrowing all kinds of music that I wouldn’t go purchase. It was like taste testing, only with sound. Best library I’ve ever been to? The public library in Westerville, Ohio. (That’s a suburb of Columbus.) That library is HUGE, very clean, has comfy chairs and a whole video section that’s like a tiny Blockbuster inside the library. Otterbein College was so lucky to sit nearby it. Go invade a public library and read some books!

Life: Ever get that feeling that you are alive? Not just breathing, but fully functioning as the best of yourself? Sometimes I feel like I’ve reached a rich point in time…as if the timeline of my life is mostly made up of carrots, bread and tuna fish and there are certain pockets that are chocolate cake with creamy icing. This really is a gift: living. Being able to change and grow, to have another chance. To wake up another day. To try again. To work hard. To be. We have absolutely no say in how long we live…when we really think about it. I can workout and eat healthy but still die at any moment. My taking care of myself doesn’t guarantee my future. Today is brand new. What are you gonna do with it?

Light: There’s this moment every morning where I realize it’s morning because there’s light hitting the room or my face. I love this feeling. There’s a split second where I feel warm and content and safe because it’s light outside. The sun hits our house just right that it floods the extra bedroom (my crafting space) with all this beautiful orangey light in the morning. Since I get my creative energy in the morning, I love this. It feels like God has opened a cosmic can of wonderfulness and just poured it all over that space. The way the sun looks rising and setting is very beautiful to me. I’m constantly distracted by this when I’m driving. Lol. I’m not a nighttime person. I get sleepy as soon as it starts to be twilighty…or at 9pm, whichever comes first. I enjoy summer and spring because the amount of lighttime is longer. During the winter, it feels like there’s just enough light to cover your workday and then it’s “lights out!” :-/ Me no likey. Bring on the light!

Imagine an advanced alien life form that materializes on Earth in the middle of a popular dance club. The alien has a cloak of invisibility and observes the humans dancing. He is here to watch and learn. My question is this: Would the alien ever learn to distinguish good dancers from poor dancers?

Now suppose the alien leaves the club and finds a bar that is open late. He observes a lot of what we call “conversation” happening. The alien’s universal interpreter device allows him to understand the content of the conversations. My question is this: Would the alien ever learn to distinguish a good conversationalist from a poor one?

I started thinking about this after reading that people with Asperger syndrome have trouble understanding the subtleties of human social interaction. That skill doesn’t come as a package deal with general intelligence. The advanced alien can’t figure out who the good conversationalists are, nor can the fellow with Asperger syndrome even if he has an otherwise exceptional IQ.

Now suppose we gave both the alien and the Asperger guy some rules about dancing and some rules about conversation as benchmarks by which to sort the good from the bad. Would it help them?

With dancing, you could point out that the movement of your hips should be timed with the beat, and that the level of motion should be somewhere in a range that is neither too quiet nor too frenetic compared to the other dancers. You could throw in other rules as well, such as no finger-pointing, no white-boy overbite, no excessive repetitiveness, no monopolizing the entire dance floor, and so on. You might have dozens of rules when you are done, but the highly intelligent alien and the Asperger guy (probably an engineer) could learn them all fairly quickly. And from that point on, they could discern good dancing from poor dancing. They might even be able to imitate it, with some practice.

Consider conversation. How many times have you been in a restaurant and victimized by the loud guy at the next table dominating the conversation without the benefit of being entertaining? It seems somewhat common that people who are neither alien nor Asperger syndrome types have no conversation skills. Indeed, it appears that many so-called normal people don’t even understand the concept of a conversation.

A conversation, like dancing, has some rules, although I’ve never seen them stated anywhere. The objective of conversation is to entertain or inform the other person while not using up all of the talking time. A big part of how you entertain another person is by listening and giving your attention. Ideally, your own enjoyment from conversation comes from the other person doing his or her job of being interesting. If you are entertaining yourself at the other person’s expense, you’re doing it wrong.

You might think that everyone on earth understands what a conversation is and how to engage in one. My observation is that no more than a quarter of the population has that understanding. I am solidly in the conversationally clueless camp until I began taking an EMI course, in which one small part of the learning dealt with the mechanics of conversation. It has been life-changing bit of knowledge.

Prior to the EMI course I believed that conversation was a process by which I could demonstrate my cleverness, complain about what was bugging me, and argue with people in order to teach them how dumb they were. To me, listening was the same thing as being bored.  I figured it was the other person’s responsibility to find some entertainment in the conversation. That wasn’t my job. Yes, I was that jerk. But I didn’t know it. The good news is that now I am learning the rules of conversation, I am becoming socially reborn. It turns out that active listening is more fun than talking, although sometimes you need to guide the conversation toward common interests.

Three-quarters of the people reading this post just thought “Uh-oh. I didn’t know conversation had rules.”

Kindness: Taking a moment to do something considerate for someone else…thinking outside of yourself: this is kindness. Holding a kid’s hand when they’re scared, gently petting a kitty who has taken over your lap when you want to get up, smiling at the stranger in the grocery aisle, giving your family members hugs, listening when someone is upset, giving birthday presents, laughing at jokes, praising someone’s hard work, walking through Mom’s garden for the hundreth time to see what’s blooming.

Kindling: I love fires…contained in bonfires or fireplaces, not just raging fires. My favorite part is collecting sticks and bits of bark and newspaper and shoving it under the logs. I add WAY too much kindling to my fires, which is why Nayt is much better at making them. For one of my birthdays, Nayt gave me the present of a roaring fire in the fireplace. It was wonderful. And I love going to Cedar Campus and making a fire in the stove in the Crew Cabin. Who cares that it’s summer? Bring on the kindling!

Kitchens: Kitchens with LOTS of counter space. Kitchens with ovens and fridges and KitchenAids and microwaves and toasters and food to cook…kitchens are awesome. My dream kitchen has a built in pantry and a counter with lots of outlets so I can plug in a toaster, blender and Kitchen Aid to leave out for use all the time. I don’t know about you, but if the appliance is accessible, I am more inclined to use it. And I’d like a nice, non-tiled flat surface for using a rolling pin. And a HUGE oven that has a drawer under it that can adequately hold all my baking tins and muffins tins and cookie sheets. Cause right now they are EVERYWHERE. Lol. I love feeling homey in the kitchen on a cold day baking up something warm. I’m still learning to cook things, and trying new recipes scares me sometimes (what if it doesn’t turn out good and then I wasted $$$ and time?). At the end of the day, the kitchen is probably where I spend the majority of my chore time. And there are worse places to spend the majority of your chore time…:-)

Kitties: Furry bundles of cute! Kittens are the best, especially when they fit in your hand (or frog pocket hehehe) and like to chase each other. Toby and Piper were the cutest kittens in the history of the world. I love coming home to a happy kitty. In the morning, Toby doesn’t even care if I feed him as long as he gets to invade my lap. He wants to snuggle and it’s so cute. Sun-bathing kitties, ferocious playful kitties, sleepy kitties…I like them all. I’m so glad I married a guy who’s a cat person. And kudos to God for creating such adorable animals! Seriously want to squeeze my cat when he makes cute faces. (He doesn’t really appreciate this though.) Toby’s trying to crawl into my lap as I type this…awwwwww

Jingle Bells: When I was a little girl, we’d go for drives when it would turn dark in December and look for Christmas lights. Everytime we’d see a house with some, mom would yell, “Jingle Bells!” It’s a tradition I still do today. Now when I see Santa in twinkly lights or a string of blue icicles that are glowing, I say “Jingle Bells!” A family tradition that let’s me remain a child.

Job: I don’t mean the book of the Bible. I’m grateful to have my job. I’m lucky to work in a place where I can give input and make a difference in the lives of so many people. I’ve had some stinky jobs, the worst of which was probably working in a smoke filled diner with sucky tips. Working for a dermatologist is pretty good in comparison. And it’s a great feeling to be slowly paying off school debt with every paycheck I earn.

Joy: Letting loose with the windows down in the car, singing regardless of who might hear me. Seeing my niece’s face when she spies a kitty. Getting a second hug from Nayt for a really good birthday gift. Little moments that mean a lot. Joy is so important. Celebrate the good things.

Justice: At the end of the day, the bad guys should be punished and the good guys should be rewarded. That’s why I can read Revelation and get a sense of satisfaction. Justice prevails. People who are cruel to animals, cheat people out of money, exploit women and children, steal, kill, destroy…this is not acceptable behavior. I’m glad to know that God does not let this all go without due justice. I’m glad to know He’s on the side of the weak and the helpless. So move, God, and let me NEVER be on the side of Your wrath.

Ice-Cream: MMMMMMMMMM, so grateful that someone thought up ice-cream. It’s creamy, fatty, sweetened goodness. What’s not to like? I love Chocolate Marshmallow and Peach from UDF, Banana from Cold Stone (as aforementioned), Phish Food by Ben n Jerry’s, Mango Sorbet by Haagan Daas, Vanilla Bean by Bryer’s, and my favorite thing to get at Graeter’s is the Persian Nut Sundae: a jumbo scoop of vanilla topped with caramel that’s been swirled with whipped cream and nuts. The combination is amazing. You all should try one. Seriously. Now I want ice-cream for breakfast. Lol.

Identity: I think humans are really into this, at least here in our developed country. We have books to tell us who we are, tests we can take, stuff that explains what our names mean, etc etc etc. We are searching for definition. For me, I want to be known as having some static characteristic. I.e, “that’s Jes, she’s an artist.” or “that’s Jes, she’s creative.” Who I am is something that I struggle to pin down at times, balancing my right brain tendencies with those very few left brain moments. Although I surprise myself at times with those methodical moments. Never-the-less, it’s nice to know who you are.

Imagination: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, imagination. Without it, this world would be a dismal place with no escape. With it, we can envision new things, things yet to be. In this way, imagination reminds me of faith. Imagination is what allowed me to dream as a kid. We lose the social endorsement to imagine out loud when we become adults. It turns into dreaming or creativity that then becomes critiqued by realists. When have you seen an adult say, “let’s imagine that we’ve got wings and we just jumped off a mountain and we’re soaring through the air” and then seen them “fly” all over their yard? Even I would think that’s a crazy person if he wasn’t entertaining some kids.

India: There’s a song by Caedmon’s Call called “Mother India” that makes something in my heart swell. “Father God, you have shed your tears for Mother India…” This is a country I would like to travel to. It’s more than just their amazing spices like curry, that they invented chai tea, make fantastic jewelry and boast some of the beautiful countryside EVER. I want to go for more reasons than just to stand in places I’ve read about in British Literature. I’ve got a 6 year old nephew there. Well, he calls me Aunt Jes anyway. His name is Chandraiah. He lives very close to the sea with his parents and his older sister. He rides an ox cart to school, and he is learning English. I’m looking forward to a letter from him when he learns to write. So far, I’ve only been communicating with his translator. I would like to go to India to soak in the culture, drink some tea and meet Chandraiah when he’s older. I think God is breaking my heart a little for this country. It might become my “far” place. For now, I’ll continue to chow down at Indian buffets and drink my tea and write to Chandraiah. God can do what He wants with my heart and India.

Alright, so I missed a day. Apparently I was too busy having fun. Lemme get back on track here:

Harry Potter: I started reading the Harry Potter books late. No, not because I completely rebel against fiction that contains witchcraft. But more because I didn’t want to spend the time or effort to develop an opinion about the books only to then be sucked into pointless debates about whether fiction intended for adults would be appropriate for children. All I really want to say is, as an English major in college, you don’t get to read much rivoting fiction that keeps you glued to your seat for more than a couple of hours at a time. The Harry books were the first series I’d read post-college that really were so well-written that I literally stayed up overnight to finish novels. It was a WONDERFUL experience to be drawn into fiction again. And I think J.K. Rowling is a fantastic author. Feel free to leave your pointed opinion about whether her books are valid as fiction or morally appropriate for children.

Hocking Hills: Nayt and I visited here on our one year anniversary. My Aunt Yvonne also took us to Old Man’s Cave and the Devil’s Bathtub when I was in junior high. I really enjoyed both visits. It’s very beautiful there, and peaceful. Not too far away to take a whole day to travel, and not too expensive to merit a vacation even if you don’t have a lot to vacation with. We zip-lined and stayed in a really nice cabin that had two bedrooms, a full kitchen, living room, dining room and a hot tub! YAY! If you ever get a chance, go hike around in Hocking Hills, it’s pretty and fun!

Home: Now that we live in a house with a yard, home has taken on a different meaning. I’m grateful for a fantastic landlord who gives us a great deal on such a spacious and awesome place. And I’m grateful for a husband who works very hard at his job and provides electricity, food, entertainment…things we need to feel like we are doing more than getting by. But home is more than those things. It’s so much more than a location, home is a state of total comfort and security. For me, home is a place with a comfy bed where I can escape the heaviness of life by sleeping. Home is a place where Nayt is. Home is a place where a Toby roams. Home is a place with homemade cookies and a good smelling bubble bath. Home is peace and contentment and rest. Home is escape from work. Home is a place I am proud to invite friends to.

Husbands: I think my husband is awesome, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him. Husbands make their wives’ lives so much easier. They listen to us whine and don’t hold it against us. They buy us chocolate when we’re being irritating and irrational. They take us on dates. They let us be ourselves. They love us. Wives need that. My husband deals with my insanity. He can balance a checkbook and still have money leftover to put in a savings account, where I would have put that money in my pocket and then be poor for the rest of my life. He thinks about things I don’t think about. Two heads really are better than one. I appreciate the sacrifices he makes and what he brings to the table to work as a team. God knew what he was doing when he created marriage.

Gift Giving: Not to be all materialistic about things, but I like presents. However, I don’t necessarily think we need to boost our economy and spend thousands of dollars each Christmas to “bless” or over-bless our relatives and friends. It’s good to bless people, but it’s also good to not be in debt. I like handmaking presents, and I like thinking about what a person needs/I can make/what would suit them. It’s fun to be creative and think, “ok, I can crochet hats and scarves. would Mr. X wear a scarf or a hat? does he have an unusually large head? can I make him a hat without measuring his head? What’s his favorite color? Do I already have that color in yarn at home?” Etc, etc. Gift-giving is one of my favorite things to do…

God: How am I gonna NOT put God on a list of things I’m grateful for? Lol. That would be ridiculous. The relationship I have with God was initiated by Him, continues to grow because of His efforts and will protect me from myself. He is everything good and pure and perfect. And who else could you say that about?

Gratitude: I like when people verbalize good things. I think it’s important to tell people you are grateful for their words, their kindness…for THEM. It’s important. End of story…plus, that’s what this whole blog experiment with the letters is about. Lol.

Gryos: The idea of lamb meat freaks me out. Lambs are fluffy and cute. They are baby sheeps. I don’t want to eat baby sheep! Unless the lamb meat is seasoned and stuffed in a pita with some cucumber yogurt stuff. Then, it’s eat or be eaten, baby. The annual Greek Festival has amazing gyros. So does that place in Clifton…yum. This is a new fav for me.

Fall: By far the best season, if not solely for the obvious…I was born in November, therefore the season is awesome. I love sweaters and pumpkin pie and leaves falling and hot cider and chilly weather without needing a coat, and corn mazes and Thanksgiving and CANDY CORN!!!! Who wouldn’t love this season? It’s not so unbearably hot that you want to strip and dance naked through the sprinkler on your lawn at night when no one’s watching. It’s not so cold that you need four pairs of socks to avoid frostbitten toes. And you can snuggle up under a blanket outside and look at the stars without falling over in a coughing fit from pollen. Fall is the best…

Family: It’s interesting who gets adopted into your family as you grow up. For me, family means the people that you feel comfortable being yourself with, while simultaneously being the people who are so close that they can rub you the wrong way. Family members are your posse. They are closer than friends, and you can’t get rid of them! I’ve got a few people I’d like to “honor” with my family name: Bekka P, Lauren C, and Michele H. These three ladies are dear to me in way that means they are constantly on my mind. They will never escape me. I won’t let them! They challenge me, allow me to BE and are good company. They are more then just friends, they are family. Thank GOD for giving me a family!

Fiction: There’s something magical about opening a book and being transported via imagination into some alternate reality that tells you just a little bit more about truth. I love reading fiction. Non-fiction is a big ole snoozefest. Give me a kids story any day. The escape of reality long enough to find some reality is AWESOME. Favorite fiction books? Well, so glad you asked! Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, The Small Rain, anything by Shel Silverstein, the Jasper Fforde Thursday Next books, Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, The Inheritance Cycle (Eragon etc), and of course The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Get lost in fiction. It will rock your world…in a good way.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S: Season One, Season Two, Season Three, Season Four, Season Five, Season Six, Season Seven, Season Eight, Season Nine, Season Ten: 10 good reasons to watch the reruns over and over and over again. Friends is the TV show I watch when I need 20 minutes of brainless time. I’ve seen all the episodes at least five or ten times each. I have lines memorized. I even like to play the Scene It game: Friends edition…though Meg beat me! (grrrr) Sometimes it’s nice to just kick back and have a little zombie fest on the couch with some mindless humor…everyone needs a break. “We were on a break!!!!!!” “Oh my God, if you say that one more time, I’M gonna break up with you!”