I was really tearing it up today with "getting stuff done". And WOW, did it feel good; so good I started to pat myself on the back and think, you've sure pulled it together today, Girlie. The folks coming over tonight are going to be impressed that the dishes are actually done and the floors clean. Then, I was convicted. Hard. Memories of some hard lessons learned while overseas in another time and place all came back to me; it was sobering and so, so good.
I asked myself exactly where I thought my pride and identity lie. Did I really believe that my identity lies in how clean my house is? NO! A thousand times no! We will never find true satisfaction and fulfillment to the depths of our souls when we seek it in how busy we are. Seriously.... I can be busy 18 hours a day doing all kinds of things from cleaning to cooking. It gets messy again, and I get frustrated. Why? Because I'm looking for something cooking and cleaning cannot give. A sense of identity.
My life overseas was a unique role of mother, community development worker, friend, counselor, mentor, teacher, wife and many others. However, my salvation, pride, nor identity was not in how well I could cope each day with no water or electricity. That is simply sanctimonious bologna. I could counsel a hundred crisis situations- from mothers bringing their dying children to my door, to neighbors seeking shelter from their husbands beating them- but that is not where I needed to take my identity from. I am more than that, and you are too. Do you think you are more sanctified if you cook fancy meals? And even more so if you strive for perfection in how healthy and nutritious that are, Moms?? Dads, are you so wrapped up in your work that you find it as your sole source of pride and motivation? Students, how much are your grades tied into how good you feel about yourself? I know that is certainly one I can say I struggle with fairly consistently. Artificial sources of identity are found in so many places: habits, works, good deeds, friendships, what church you go to, associations, talents, and certainly money. But, outside of Christ ALONE, there is NO source of true identity for us. We are made in His image, if you claim His Son as Savior, you are His and He lives through you to BE your identity, strength, source of contentment, fulfillment and pride.
Don't get me wrong. Everything from going overseas in the first place for me and most of the things I do today are BECAUSE of that truth. I have to constantly remind myself that outside of that motivation, my clean floor (a once in a while phenomenon) is not WHO I am. The "A" I may get in a class is an expression of his calling on my life at this time. My kids' performance, my husband's job or position, my friendships, are all only but an outpouring of His provision given as gifts, NOT ways to edify myself.
Grace,
SteppeSister
Friday, January 11, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
Expressing LOVE
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2009
I've been thinking for several days now about what to write about, and today, at our Christmas party with the office staff, it came to me. Well, actually, the topic sprung out of what we talked about during this party. The topic of love. Not exactly love, but expressing it.
Out of the blue, one of the guys (he's maybe 26) asked The Water Guy if he told me that he loved me. HUH!!?? Did we understand the question right? Of course we tell each other we love one another. It's natural, it's something we do every everday, sometimes even, gasp, more than once!! Imagine that!... telling someone WITH WORDS that you love them. Believe it or not, people in this culture do not say it; to their kids, to their spouses, parents or anyone else.
We were flabbergasted that people go through their whole lives without hearing those most important of words after they are about 4 or 5 years old.
We probed the reasons, and they came up with these:
1) We just don't hear it from our parents, so we didn't learn how.
2) Parents are afraid that if children hear it too much they will become spoiled or bratty.
3) After not practicing it, they feel uncomfortable or somehow embarrassed about saying "I love you".
4) They are afraid too, of rejection.
5) It is quite possible that they value other ways of expressing their love more highly. They did say that they know their parents love them, for example, but that they show it by giving gifts, or caring for them through basic care.
After some minutes, we asked our friends if saying "I love you" or hearing it was important. Everyone of them said yes, and that in their families they are trying to change things. 4 of the people at this party are young parents and they are beginning to hug their kids and speak those words to them everyday.
Coincidentally, at another party we went to on Christmas Evening, everyone in turn gave a reflection from the las year and a blessing to the party. When it was The Water Guy's turn he stood up, walked over to where I was sitting, took my hand, pulled me up, and blessed me publicly. You should have seen the mouths fly open. There were even snickers around the room, and one lady went on and on about how she's never seen that done, that husbands would never do that in their culture, and expressing love like that was just so odd and foreign to them.
If we have shown the value of telling and showing love to one another, then all our years of living here have been worth it!! It is said in a "VERY Good Book" they will know what you believe by how you love one another.
Have you told someone that you love them today??
Love,
Your SteppeSister
Out of the blue, one of the guys (he's maybe 26) asked The Water Guy if he told me that he loved me. HUH!!?? Did we understand the question right? Of course we tell each other we love one another. It's natural, it's something we do every everday, sometimes even, gasp, more than once!! Imagine that!... telling someone WITH WORDS that you love them. Believe it or not, people in this culture do not say it; to their kids, to their spouses, parents or anyone else.
We were flabbergasted that people go through their whole lives without hearing those most important of words after they are about 4 or 5 years old.
We probed the reasons, and they came up with these:
1) We just don't hear it from our parents, so we didn't learn how.
2) Parents are afraid that if children hear it too much they will become spoiled or bratty.
3) After not practicing it, they feel uncomfortable or somehow embarrassed about saying "I love you".
4) They are afraid too, of rejection.
5) It is quite possible that they value other ways of expressing their love more highly. They did say that they know their parents love them, for example, but that they show it by giving gifts, or caring for them through basic care.
After some minutes, we asked our friends if saying "I love you" or hearing it was important. Everyone of them said yes, and that in their families they are trying to change things. 4 of the people at this party are young parents and they are beginning to hug their kids and speak those words to them everyday.
Coincidentally, at another party we went to on Christmas Evening, everyone in turn gave a reflection from the las year and a blessing to the party. When it was The Water Guy's turn he stood up, walked over to where I was sitting, took my hand, pulled me up, and blessed me publicly. You should have seen the mouths fly open. There were even snickers around the room, and one lady went on and on about how she's never seen that done, that husbands would never do that in their culture, and expressing love like that was just so odd and foreign to them.
If we have shown the value of telling and showing love to one another, then all our years of living here have been worth it!! It is said in a "VERY Good Book" they will know what you believe by how you love one another.
Have you told someone that you love them today??
Love,
Your SteppeSister
Scorpion Sting- by "Roo"
Since sand was used for diluting the cement that all the buildings were made from , the mountains of sand were a cliche during the summer. It seemed like there was one dumped on each corner once every week or so. The day that I was stung by a scorpion, or a 'shayan' in Kazakh, is just as vivid in my mind now as it was then. I remember my big brother, Andrew, coming up to me and asking if I wanted to go outside and play in the sand pile, or 'khom'. I ran across the vomitous kitchen linoleum that always looked like a giant had used it for the disgusting task of blowing his nose. I grabbed my cheap-o red and white 'Chinese-made 'tapchkee' (summertime sandals), the kind that always broke in a month, and slipped them on my feet. We told our Kazakh housekeeper where we were going, and asked her to make sure the door locked behind us. Since petty thievery was such a troublesome issue, locked doors were the norm in every household.
We stepped out into our dingy, dank stairwell and started to run down the murderously crooked steps. The smells got more intense as we went down...down closer to the basement door and sewage piping for the entire apartment building, neither of which were sealed at all. Rats, cats and other various forms of scummy life lived and died down there. Getting a whiff of decaying flesh was never appetizing whatsoever. We hurried out of the stairwell as fast as we could, and stepped outside. Summer was in full swing and it was a sizzling one hundred and ten degrees that hit us like a belly flop from off the high dive when we stepped outside- definitely not a perfect eighty degrees like back home. I remember how it felt as the thirsty air drank whatever liquid was in our lungs and bodies, leaving us bony raisins in a desert. The two of us marched around the apartment structure, ignoring the shockingly vile remarks the local kids shouted at us as we scurried past. Rounding the corner, hurrying as children do, we were eager to start playing. We had this beautiful master plan to consturct an impressive (at least it was impressive in our little heads) labyrinth of tunnels through the sand. They would be just big enough to push a matchbox car through.
We never tired of digging around like moles in the massive mounds of sand. The two of us jumped into the sand dumped there the previous day, turning deaf ears to the annoying protests of the builders who would have to shovel it back into a pile when we were done. They despised it when kids like us came and played in their sand, spreading it out until it looked like dessert on a toddler's face. After about fifteen minutes of digging around and getting grubby, my tunnel was just about done. I reached towards the little tunnel entrance to dig out the last bit of sand that separated mine from Andrew's, but before my dusty hand reached the other side, I felt something sort of "stick it". "Oh brother", I thought, "Another nasty thorn in the sand." I reached down to pick it out and throw it somewhere out of my sight, but a thorny vine wasn't what I saw. What I did see made the blood drain out of my face; I saw the underside and tail of a scorpion exposed in the sand where my hand had brushed the sand.
It was already hurting, throbbing and turning red. I jumped up and told Andew. He told me to run and tell Dad as fast as I could, so I turned and ran back to the apartment. I was in such a hurry , I forgot my shoes. Trying to run and not hurt a scorpion sting at the same time is harder than trying to get a camel (which we have plenty of roaming wild on the steppes) through the eye of a needle. Step-ow-step-ow-step-ow all the way to the apartment. The reaction I got from my parents was essentially the same as a bomb squad's would have been to an emergency call. My dad ran for the medical bucket where the snake venom suction device was kept. By now, looking at the side of my thumb was like looking at a bad pimple through a microscope. It was so nasty and ugly it was enthralling. My dad put the cracked yellow venom sucker on the side of my thumb and got it sucking. This sucking on the sting made it turn from red to putrid purple. After about fifteen eternal minutes, Dad took the yellow sucker off and put ice on it. I can still remember sort of falling asleep; I must have been tired out by all the hovering around me Mom and Dad did. When you know it takes an ambulance up to two hours to get anywhere after receiving a call, the local medical care isn't much of an option when you're in the mood to live. It was truly a miracle of Grace that I surived that day!
We stepped out into our dingy, dank stairwell and started to run down the murderously crooked steps. The smells got more intense as we went down...down closer to the basement door and sewage piping for the entire apartment building, neither of which were sealed at all. Rats, cats and other various forms of scummy life lived and died down there. Getting a whiff of decaying flesh was never appetizing whatsoever. We hurried out of the stairwell as fast as we could, and stepped outside. Summer was in full swing and it was a sizzling one hundred and ten degrees that hit us like a belly flop from off the high dive when we stepped outside- definitely not a perfect eighty degrees like back home. I remember how it felt as the thirsty air drank whatever liquid was in our lungs and bodies, leaving us bony raisins in a desert. The two of us marched around the apartment structure, ignoring the shockingly vile remarks the local kids shouted at us as we scurried past. Rounding the corner, hurrying as children do, we were eager to start playing. We had this beautiful master plan to consturct an impressive (at least it was impressive in our little heads) labyrinth of tunnels through the sand. They would be just big enough to push a matchbox car through.
We never tired of digging around like moles in the massive mounds of sand. The two of us jumped into the sand dumped there the previous day, turning deaf ears to the annoying protests of the builders who would have to shovel it back into a pile when we were done. They despised it when kids like us came and played in their sand, spreading it out until it looked like dessert on a toddler's face. After about fifteen minutes of digging around and getting grubby, my tunnel was just about done. I reached towards the little tunnel entrance to dig out the last bit of sand that separated mine from Andrew's, but before my dusty hand reached the other side, I felt something sort of "stick it". "Oh brother", I thought, "Another nasty thorn in the sand." I reached down to pick it out and throw it somewhere out of my sight, but a thorny vine wasn't what I saw. What I did see made the blood drain out of my face; I saw the underside and tail of a scorpion exposed in the sand where my hand had brushed the sand.
It was already hurting, throbbing and turning red. I jumped up and told Andew. He told me to run and tell Dad as fast as I could, so I turned and ran back to the apartment. I was in such a hurry , I forgot my shoes. Trying to run and not hurt a scorpion sting at the same time is harder than trying to get a camel (which we have plenty of roaming wild on the steppes) through the eye of a needle. Step-ow-step-ow-step-ow all the way to the apartment. The reaction I got from my parents was essentially the same as a bomb squad's would have been to an emergency call. My dad ran for the medical bucket where the snake venom suction device was kept. By now, looking at the side of my thumb was like looking at a bad pimple through a microscope. It was so nasty and ugly it was enthralling. My dad put the cracked yellow venom sucker on the side of my thumb and got it sucking. This sucking on the sting made it turn from red to putrid purple. After about fifteen eternal minutes, Dad took the yellow sucker off and put ice on it. I can still remember sort of falling asleep; I must have been tired out by all the hovering around me Mom and Dad did. When you know it takes an ambulance up to two hours to get anywhere after receiving a call, the local medical care isn't much of an option when you're in the mood to live. It was truly a miracle of Grace that I surived that day!
My FIRST Blog Post- An Introduction
MONDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2008
Being over 40, and not of the "blogging generation", I thought I'd give it all a try. Let me introduce myself... I am married to The Water Guy, and have 5 WONDERFUL kids. We live on the Central Asian Steppe and live a pretty simple life as we do our development work. I can't think of too many kids- at least in the States who: regularly drink fermented horse's and camel's milk, know how to fluently speak another language, have eaten in a yurt, or have travelled to no less than 10 countries in their lives.
My passions are quilting, watching great classic movies, enjoying a good cup of coffee every day, spending time in Scripture with my good coffee, playing Settlers, listening to my daughters play guitar, and sleeping in on Saturdays. In summer, I grow a garden, have regular campfires with my family, and watch the stars with our telescope. In winter, I make hot cocoa, read a lot, and quilt more.
I am challenged by trying to cook good meals with the limited ingredients available here. I love everything about Thai food, homemade Mexican food and a good Margarita. I am also challenged as I try to keep up with my 4 students still at home homeschooling. I learn something new everyday, and that keeps me on my toes. My live is very full- I wouldn't change a thing!
My passions are quilting, watching great classic movies, enjoying a good cup of coffee every day, spending time in Scripture with my good coffee, playing Settlers, listening to my daughters play guitar, and sleeping in on Saturdays. In summer, I grow a garden, have regular campfires with my family, and watch the stars with our telescope. In winter, I make hot cocoa, read a lot, and quilt more.
I am challenged by trying to cook good meals with the limited ingredients available here. I love everything about Thai food, homemade Mexican food and a good Margarita. I am also challenged as I try to keep up with my 4 students still at home homeschooling. I learn something new everyday, and that keeps me on my toes. My live is very full- I wouldn't change a thing!
My Very Typical Day-
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2008
I used to wake up at nine feeling guilty and grumpy- how could I have slept this long? I got over THAT about 7 years ago! When we moved overseas we quickly discovered that we just plain ol' need way more sleep! Life is more physically demanding in many ways, not to mention the mental and emotional strain of speaking a foreign language and dealing with a completely different culture. It takes its toll. So, we are up at 9:00 guilty free. The youngest enjoy a bowl of hot cream of wheat or oatmeal, the older ones cook themselves an egg or just have bread with cheese or jam. I, of course, start with a strong cup of coffee and snack until lunch on whatevers around. The Water Guy is always gone by 9:00, but we see him most days at 1:00 for a hot family lunch.
School starts around 9:30 with the older ones working with their DVD's or books, while the youngest take turns with Mom on reading, math, Bible, phonics, etc... Mr. Macaroni has some pretty significant learning issues and takes a massive amount of time. I comfort myselft knowing that what I can give him at home is about 10 times more than what he'd be getting mainstreamed in school.
3 days a week, I have a wonderful young woman come to help me with the housework and cooking. She has become a WONDERFUL cook and we enjoy her soups and other goodies on the days she is here. Other days, the kids help out with making a good meal for us all to enjoy. Afternoons are more of the same, but often we have an unannounced visitor interrupt our day. It could be anyone from the guy collecting money for the water bill or the neighbor needing to borrow baking soda.
Now that it's fall, we spend more time indoors as the muck factor has increased by a hundredfold. There is no such thing as a sidewalk here, no grass, just mud everywhere. Often, The Water Guy will call and need some e-mailing done, or something to be looked up on the home computer. By 4:30 or 5:00 we are done with the lessons and start on dinner. If dinner is an easy one, or if our helper is here, we can play a short game or watch a little TV. Right now we are working our way through Season 8 of Little House on the Prairie. Still love that stuff!
The Water Guy comes in around 6:30 and we have dinner together. Tonight, being a very typical one, we will read aloud (currently that is a Hardy Boys), eat oatmeal cookies made by Roo, and hope that the power does not go off- again. After the kids head off for bed, maybe I'll have a few moments to finish the Dresden Plate block I'm working on for the matching wall hanging that goes with my queen-sized quilt, and put a bit of time into my Precepts Study on Hebrews. After The Water Guy is asleep I still have a little more time to me, and spend time in prayer or on projects that need doing.
Not all days are so simple. There are many days with meetings, errands to run, and days we drink tea with friends. I'll post sometime after a "crazy day", and you'll see how different they can be.
School starts around 9:30 with the older ones working with their DVD's or books, while the youngest take turns with Mom on reading, math, Bible, phonics, etc... Mr. Macaroni has some pretty significant learning issues and takes a massive amount of time. I comfort myselft knowing that what I can give him at home is about 10 times more than what he'd be getting mainstreamed in school.
3 days a week, I have a wonderful young woman come to help me with the housework and cooking. She has become a WONDERFUL cook and we enjoy her soups and other goodies on the days she is here. Other days, the kids help out with making a good meal for us all to enjoy. Afternoons are more of the same, but often we have an unannounced visitor interrupt our day. It could be anyone from the guy collecting money for the water bill or the neighbor needing to borrow baking soda.
Now that it's fall, we spend more time indoors as the muck factor has increased by a hundredfold. There is no such thing as a sidewalk here, no grass, just mud everywhere. Often, The Water Guy will call and need some e-mailing done, or something to be looked up on the home computer. By 4:30 or 5:00 we are done with the lessons and start on dinner. If dinner is an easy one, or if our helper is here, we can play a short game or watch a little TV. Right now we are working our way through Season 8 of Little House on the Prairie. Still love that stuff!
The Water Guy comes in around 6:30 and we have dinner together. Tonight, being a very typical one, we will read aloud (currently that is a Hardy Boys), eat oatmeal cookies made by Roo, and hope that the power does not go off- again. After the kids head off for bed, maybe I'll have a few moments to finish the Dresden Plate block I'm working on for the matching wall hanging that goes with my queen-sized quilt, and put a bit of time into my Precepts Study on Hebrews. After The Water Guy is asleep I still have a little more time to me, and spend time in prayer or on projects that need doing.
Not all days are so simple. There are many days with meetings, errands to run, and days we drink tea with friends. I'll post sometime after a "crazy day", and you'll see how different they can be.
My NOT so typical day-
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2008
I knew it wouldn't take too terribly long to have a NOT so typical day. Yesterday proved to be one of THOSE days.
I awoke earlier than usual to my househelper knocking on the door, asking for not only her pay, but for a $300 advance so she could buy a washing machine for her niece. Here, where we live, bride stealing is a very normal part of life, and her niece was one of the unfortunate ones to have to start her marriage off with a kidnapping and rape. This guy sees her once, decides she's the one for him, gets a bunch of friends together and pulls her into the car. Once she steps foot onto his parents' property in those circumstances she is theirs- no questions asked. It is brutal and oh so too normal. So, her aunt now must go and lavish her with an appropriate gift to seal the deal.
After we get her squared away, (yes, I did give her the money, as she has been with us for over 7 years and has never been unfaithful in money matters) I make up my coffee and try again for the third straight day to get on the internet- again to thwarted success. Ugh! I hate computer problems, especially when they involve my internet!! Looks like The Water Guy has fixed everything up and I'm able to get on again.
So, instead of my regular gal showing up, a friend of hers came. I must share a funny thing that happened today- making again for a strange day. When we were last in the States, we had some aquaintances that live nearby in another city. She asked my to help her find a friend that lives in our city- a friend from her youth, and all she knew was that she lived here. I though, "Oh no, that will be impossible with only a name and birthyear. I'll have to call the phone company, hmmm... maybe the tax office, there's just no way." Well, when this young gal shows up to work I asked her where I should start. I told her all I know is that her name is... , and the next thing she says is, "Hey, I know her!! She was my English teacher last year." So that ended that. It really was that easy. We called her house and I could talk to her myself, giving her greetings from her long lost friend and helping them hook up again after all these years.
All the kids managed to get through all their subjects in school, which is another thing that is not so typical. We even had time to get some fresh tortillas and some homemade cinnamon rolls made! Mmmm... they tasted great for dinner/ dessert.
All was going well, for the rest of the day, until the power went out just after dinner. So, we sat in the dark for another evening. I had re-started Wuthering Heights as I had gotten to the beginning of Vol. II and felt I needed to go back and re-read the beginning now that I was more aquainted with the characters. Okay, this is a VERY weird book. I don't know of any other "classic" in which incest, domestic violence and necrophilia are the central themes. What a strange journey into the subjects most taboo to mankind. The rest of the gang played a board game or UNO, until it just got to tiresome. I think we were all tucked in by 9:00.
Well, if thinking about Wuthering Heights hadn't have kept me up all night, the party across the street surely would've!! LOUD! (I mean really loud!) music blared off and on until 2:45 AM. It kept most of us awake, and hence we are now getting a start to our day at about 10:00. I've always thought that if you're going to have a party that keeps your neighbors awake, the least you can to is invite them :)
Hope you are all well, and enjoying life to the fullest. Typical day or not, there' always Someone there with you to give you that gift of a "full life".
I awoke earlier than usual to my househelper knocking on the door, asking for not only her pay, but for a $300 advance so she could buy a washing machine for her niece. Here, where we live, bride stealing is a very normal part of life, and her niece was one of the unfortunate ones to have to start her marriage off with a kidnapping and rape. This guy sees her once, decides she's the one for him, gets a bunch of friends together and pulls her into the car. Once she steps foot onto his parents' property in those circumstances she is theirs- no questions asked. It is brutal and oh so too normal. So, her aunt now must go and lavish her with an appropriate gift to seal the deal.
After we get her squared away, (yes, I did give her the money, as she has been with us for over 7 years and has never been unfaithful in money matters) I make up my coffee and try again for the third straight day to get on the internet- again to thwarted success. Ugh! I hate computer problems, especially when they involve my internet!! Looks like The Water Guy has fixed everything up and I'm able to get on again.
So, instead of my regular gal showing up, a friend of hers came. I must share a funny thing that happened today- making again for a strange day. When we were last in the States, we had some aquaintances that live nearby in another city. She asked my to help her find a friend that lives in our city- a friend from her youth, and all she knew was that she lived here. I though, "Oh no, that will be impossible with only a name and birthyear. I'll have to call the phone company, hmmm... maybe the tax office, there's just no way." Well, when this young gal shows up to work I asked her where I should start. I told her all I know is that her name is... , and the next thing she says is, "Hey, I know her!! She was my English teacher last year." So that ended that. It really was that easy. We called her house and I could talk to her myself, giving her greetings from her long lost friend and helping them hook up again after all these years.
All the kids managed to get through all their subjects in school, which is another thing that is not so typical. We even had time to get some fresh tortillas and some homemade cinnamon rolls made! Mmmm... they tasted great for dinner/ dessert.
All was going well, for the rest of the day, until the power went out just after dinner. So, we sat in the dark for another evening. I had re-started Wuthering Heights as I had gotten to the beginning of Vol. II and felt I needed to go back and re-read the beginning now that I was more aquainted with the characters. Okay, this is a VERY weird book. I don't know of any other "classic" in which incest, domestic violence and necrophilia are the central themes. What a strange journey into the subjects most taboo to mankind. The rest of the gang played a board game or UNO, until it just got to tiresome. I think we were all tucked in by 9:00.
Well, if thinking about Wuthering Heights hadn't have kept me up all night, the party across the street surely would've!! LOUD! (I mean really loud!) music blared off and on until 2:45 AM. It kept most of us awake, and hence we are now getting a start to our day at about 10:00. I've always thought that if you're going to have a party that keeps your neighbors awake, the least you can to is invite them :)
Hope you are all well, and enjoying life to the fullest. Typical day or not, there' always Someone there with you to give you that gift of a "full life".
The REAL Mrs. Tiggy Winkle
Monday, October 20, 2008
What makes summer so nice here? Well, there has to be SOMETHING! As fall sets in (okay, really for here it's almost winter!) I like to look back, and think of my favorite things about summer. We had lots of campfires along the water (with marshmallows), went stargazing with the telescope a few times, enjoyed fresh chard and grapes from the garden, went to the village several times and drank fresh milk, and ran across these cuddly little friends right in our own yard.
As we were clearing out the weeds one day, we undercovered Mama and her 3 little ones hudddled together. We stopped out work, took some shots, then let them to be hoping they'd move on. Sure enough, by morning they were gone, but we have such nice memories of the REAL Mrs. Tiggy-winkle visiting us this summer. Who knows maybe my new hankies will turn up yet...
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