Herban Sprawl

Oho! Rob Shrader of SunTrust wins today’s prize for Banker of the Year. I brought him up to speed and he mulled the situation. Then he opened an account for the Kate Hofmann Legal Defense Fund. We are set to gratefully receive your gifts of love and justice as paper checks or electronic checks!

Bing, bang. boom - literally - he hammered the daylights out of that keyboard and before I knew it, he’d ordered a lot of deposit slips and we’d agreed that the seven starter checks would be sufficient for paying Kate’s legal eagle.

Please give as generously as you are able, and don’t be afraid to send small amounts periodically. Please understand, there is no amount that is insignificant. It all adds up. My friend Sammy used to send $10 and $15 checks to the opera. At the end of the year, his contribution totalled in the hundreds! You won’t find a more grateful recipient.

Remember that in the United States, the accused is considered innocent until proven, beyond reasonable doubt, that she is guilty. All citizens deserve the best legal representation they can get. In this case, we’re asking for $25,000 worth of expertise.

Please send paper or electronic checks to:

Kate Hofmann Legal Defense Fund

c/o Blue Ridge Unitarian Universalist Fellowship

P.O. Box 3115

Roanoke, VA 24015

Please be sure to include your full name and address so that we can keep accurate records. There will be an accountability team checking the books periodically, so help us out by providing that information.

If you have questions, please address them to:

katehofmannLDF@yahoo.com

Thank you to all who have asked, “What can I do?” Now you know how best to help.

Last night I was asked by my dear friend, the mother-of-the-incarcerated, to be the administrator of the legal defense fund. I agreed. Big Kitty will provide the math skills, and I’ll provide the non-profit fundraising skills. (Such as they are!)

Thanks to some stellar advice from a younger, more electronic-banking literate friend-of-the-incarcerated, I will be visiting a large bank with a strong presence here in the southeastern portion of the U.S. to open an account later this morning.

It’s going to be tricky. My banker hasn’t spoken or communicated with me since before Thanksgiving. The door’s been open, but he’s had his back turned on it. However, when it comes to opening an account and being instructed on what I can and cannot do, there is no one else I’d use. Especially in this instance.

So, to paraphrase The House Goddess, I gotta put on my good bra and march on out of here with my head up and a sashay in my step. Well, forget the sashay, it’s still raining like hell here. I’ll be dancing between the raindrops, dontchaknow!

So, all of you still wondering how you can help… be prepared to contribute. We have to raise $25,000 in short order. No contribution is too small, and no contribution will go unacknowledged, unless you don’t provide me with your contact information.

It’s been a tragic week. There is no other way to say it. We’re still reeling from the gravity and enormity of the circumstances, and for now, there is not one darn thing we can do to ameliorate the situation. There is no way to do the story justice, but here goes.

In 2004, two friends returned home from a Super Bowl party. The one with MS made her way into their home at her pace. The other went directly to the bathroom, where she was coshed on the head and rendered unconscious. When she came to, she discovered her partner had been shot to death.

The knocked out woman owned a handgun, and it was missing from the premises. When the police came, they didn’t take the injured woman to the hospital for treatment. Instead, they attempted to interrogate her at the police station. She didn’t have any powder residue on her.

By now, if you are a savvy reader, you have correctly surmised this was a lesbian couple. They had been together for around nine years, and the relationship was a strong one. They were the kind that would have gotten married legally, if permitted to do so. The outpouring of love and support was enormous. Big Kitty and I traveled to Greensboro for the memorial service, and it was an emotional thing for us.

Kate had been the little sister in Big Kitty’s extended family. He had carted her and her friends to a bunch of Liberal Religious Youth get-togethers in her mom’s old Volvo stationwagon. This was the crazy, semi-functional/semi-dysfunctional family that took him in as readily as they did any other stray cat. When I came along, I was just another cat to be fed, and it was home for me, too.

We were the first members of this tribe to meet Sharon. Sharon was shy and nervous, but Kate was smart. She knew we were the easiest of the easy, and all would be well. Sharon was wonderful. She could be serious when necessary, and had a playful streak a mile wide. She became a devoted aunt to Kate’s nieces and nephews, and was deeply loved in return. Her death was not easily accepted by any of us, and its violence was one we had a great deal of difficulty comprehending.

Sharon had been plagued with multiple sclerosis, and at the time of her death, often needed to use a motorized wheelchair to get around. She tried hard to manage without it, but would grudgingly give in when Kate would insist. The disease was clearly taking its toll on her body, but both partners bore it with amazing grace. Neither was the type to whine and cry. Both were stiff upper lip kind of women. They managed, and they loved each other in spite of it all.

Not long after Sharon’s memorial service, another woman came into Kate’s life. A little too soon, perhaps, but when I think of the number of men who have remarried within a year of a spouse’s death, I can’t think that this was much different. Suddenly the police have seized upon this as ‘probable cause.’ You know, Sharon was sick, so let’s kill her and we can get together.

Good grief.  As motives go, that one is pretty thin. It is also rather specious in light of the fact that these were lesbians. Could the police have been any more blatant in their prejudice?

Meanwhile, Sharon’s family sued Kate and her now-partner, Kim. Well, not before they kindly offered to not sue if Kate would just hand over what they deemed to be their fair share of Sharon’s estate (as in all of it).

It was no secret that Sharon’s family did not like the idea that she was a lesbian. It went against their religious beliefs and they had a lot of trouble reconciling it. One brother was openly hostile. This can be the case for families, and Dear Abby would advise them to turn to PFLAG for help. I don’t know what they did, but I vividly remember how out of place they appeared to feel at the memorial service in a Unitarian Universalist church where their daughter was a beloved member.

And so, five years later, after living in the same house and going to the same job, the police decided they now had incontrovertible evidence that our Kate was the perpetrator of Sharon’s untimely demise. They went to her workplace last week and arrested her. They have charged her with capital murder.

Kate’s mother, who is in the middle of a divorce, now has to raise $25,000 as an upfront fee for an attorney. Needless to say, friends are creating a legal defense fund. And, because she is not allowed her own personal effects, such as a sports bra or toothpaste, a commissary fund has had to be set up so she can purchase what she already has. You know, it isn’t like they can’t run those things through an xray machine to make sure there is nothing in them that could harm herself or another inmate or guard. But no. Our criminal justice system doesn’t work that way.

In our household, devastation has given way to anger and frustration. There is no small amount of injustice in this situation. If this had been a heterosexual couple I have no doubt it would have been handled differently. Instead, this case is already being tried in the press as the local newspapers in North Carolina focus on as much sensationalism as they can manufacture. The responses in their online versions are mean-spirited and convey the kind of prejudice and hatred that only narrow-minded and repressed people can manage to spew. How fair a trial can she expect under these circumstances?

In our nation, one is considered innocent until found guilty by a jury of one’s peers. Will her jury have even one gay or lesbian person? We’re talking peers, here, and those would be her peers. The accused is not a Christian, but rather a devout and active Unitarian Universalist. Since those of our faith are rarely understood in religious terms, will that work against her, too?

I have no answers. Only questions. I have beliefs, though, and one of those is the unshakable belief in Kate. Luckily, I am not alone, because in the days ahead, we will calling upon all who are out there asking, “what can I do?” to contribute whatever amount possible to her defense fund. We have to insure she has excellent representation in order to keep this trial as fair as possible. There are some prejudices we will never overcome, but we have to stand by her and show the world that when you love someone, you do what needs to be done - with love, in love and alongside love.

Those of you who are so inclined, are now cordially invited to say prayers for justice, and in the name of whatever deity you choose. We Unitarian Universalists gratefully accept all prayers that are said on our behalf, and this woman is going to need a steady stream of them.

It started out innocently enough. I wanted to use my new flexible trug from the Plow & Hearth, but it had my tomato plants in it. I needed to empty the self-watering tomato planter (Gardener’s Supply from several years ago) and rinse it, but that meant I needed to excavate the hose from the tangle of ivy and other weeds that had imprisoned it. I piddled around, pulling weeds under the fringe tree so I could put spent tomato planter soil around it as a little mulch, potting up newer plants and finally had to face facts. The patio needed to be cleaned.

A little background is in order. Our patio is very old and the bricks are uneven. Some are also crumbling, in a rather picturesque way. The moss is thick, and so are the dandelions, violets and other undesirables. Every year I used to spend an entire Saturday weeding the thing, only to have it full of weeds two weeks later. I resisted weedkiller because, miraculously enough, there appeared a heuchera, that had planted itself in the stone wall, and then an astilbe. Finally, a really beautiful fern took up residence. You just don’t mess with gifts such as those.

Last year, I didn’t weed it and instead used my handy dandy battery operated weed whacker to try to control the mess. It sorta worked, but not enough. When The House Goddess wandered out to take a look at the hosta garden project, she eyeballed the patio and just looked at me. She didn’t need to say anything. The look was enough. But I knew I was in for it. “Girl, tell me you ain’t gone leave this thing lookin’ like this. All dis work you doin’ and you just ain’t gone leave this thing lookin’ like this. You making you some b’yootiful gardens and you gone leave this thing lookin’ like this?” (The House Goddess’s eldest progeny is a preacher and I think he gets that rhetorical question thing from his mama…)

I caved. I mixed some neo-plus-ultra-high-holy nursery strength Round-Up and sprayed a portion of the patio, but very carefully because there were some other plants that I didn’t want to eradicate!

Yesterday I had no choice. It took almost all day and only half of it is cleaned up. However, thanks to all this rain, I had the good fortune to have things come up easily, and thanks to all this rain, I uncovered a veritable bait shop in my patio. I mean to tell you, I have enough nightcrawlers to supply the annual fishing rodeo at the Illinois Michigan Canal! And I did not let one get away - that I know of.

I had cleared out a former herb tub. I got rid of a tree that had grown in it, pulled out all the Greek oregano that remained, and set aside the Blue Balsam mint. Then I cleaned through it to make sure I didn’t have any other gifts from the squirrels, added more potting mix and replanted the mint. I’d repotted a rosemary that had grown happy being next to the wall of the house, and a few other things, so the nightcrawlers were relocated to worm condos in those pots. I hope they will stay and keep those pots full of their castings. Now my neighbor, who likes to fish, and I can dig out our own bait and go drown worms in the Roanoke (Creek) River!

Doing labor intensive work like that gives me time to think. Lately I’ve had a lot to think about. Some of it concerns a couple of very dear young people who are struggling. Caught in a sticky web of financial disarray and health issues, they are overwhelmed. So as I teased up the moss, rescued nightcrawlers and set them into their new homes, I considered what possible courses of action they could take that would help them knock down the web.

People who get into these situations become afraid of making decisions because they have some past decisions that weren’t too helpful to them. They lose confidence in their ability to reason and they become trapped in their misery. The result is chronic stress related health problems. For one of them, an injury as a result of military service was never treated due to negligence on the part of a superior officer. Luckily, that problem seems to be getting some positive attention, but three years is a long time to limp around with a knee injury. It has really impaired her ability to work, not to mention the ability to do anything enjoyable. For a physically active person, it’s a severe sentence.

Pondering the other one’s health problems, I realized there was a little something I could do. Before it’s all over, I think he’s going to look at my weedy patio with new eyes. At least I hope so. I’m thinking we can plant some interesting thyme in some of those crumbled out spots. I’m thinking we can plant some new ideas and a positive outlook, as well.
For now, I can look out the dining room window and see the hose, neatly wound up on its holder, a tub of mint (that’s going to have some really stellar friable dirt in it!), a pot of chocolate mint (you want mint? keep it in pots…) and the shade treasures of heuchera, astilbe and fern. The bricks are still bumpy with stray bits of moss, but some sun will take care of that. I can now spray the rest of it with care and in a week, it, too, will be ready to weed. And that’s when I’ll open the patio counseling center. Hopefully, we’ll find more bait for my new bait business, too. Look out, Batiste, I’m your competition in the mountains! And I’m going to have plenty of mint to crush into Dave’s Dr. Pepper!

It all started out innocently enough. We were having some sunshine and I needed to mow at least the front yard. The House Goddess was due, and while I was waiting for the grass to dry out a little, I made a run to Lowe’s for one of the annual Susan G. Komen Plant for the Cure geraniums. They were out. The load that had come in were puny and didn’t do well, so they’d had to reduce them. Needless to say, savvy shoppers bought them up. However, I did find a great little obelisk trellis and a red version of a pink climber whose name escapes me - perfect for the hummers, I thought.

The House Goddess listened to my whining about the geranium and suggested the beautiful concrete planters Anna gave me needed to be “done up.” “But get you some plastic planters that go inside so if you wanna move ‘em, you can take the dirt out and it won’t be so heavy.” (This after watching me grunt and sweat just to slide one across the walk…those puppies are hefty!) So, there will be a new look, and I can’t say I’m sad about that.

The rest of the noon hour was spent rattling around, not getting anything done, and that’s when all the trouble started. All I was going to do was start to fork up the compacted soil under the dogwood for the first part of Uncle Doc’s Garden. After loosening a square yard’s worth, I decided it would be good to work in the manure as I went. Before I knew it, I had forked up the area, added 5 bags of manure, and that’s when I got so excited that I threw all those plans to carefully map out this garden totally to the the four winds.

I began plucking pots of hostas and shade perennials from their storage area, talking to them and arranging them this way and that. A little craziness goes a long way when we’re talking about gardening. Pretty soon, my neighbor yelled over the fence that it was margarita time and that she was off to the store to get the ingredients. I finished up my good time while she did that, and I am pleased to report that what was just going to be a matter of working in manure, turned into a Phase III. project!

Seven varieties of hosta have been planted, along with the Rock ‘n Roll astilbe, a tiarella and a few interesting heurcheras. My neighbor came to look, and decreed that my idea for the placement of the fountain was not optimum. She pointed out a better spot, and not only is that perfect, but it will provide the best place for the forget-me-nots I need to relocate. Uncle Doc’s Garden will now have a water feature (appropriate since he lives on the Little Vermilion River), temple bells (a nod to his love of southeast Asia), and the hunt for a cast iron garden seat will continue until the perfect one appears.

Meanwhile, I have five stepping stones to make… One will bear his trademark quote, “We never say oops in surgery.” I’m thinking all those issues of Fine Gardening weren’t a waste after all… I’m thinking the best gardens are the result of dumb luck and an innocent desire to create beauty. I’m also thinking Mother Nature approved because she sent a huge thunderstorm last night to water in the whole business beautifully!

Here we go again. More on those proposed bylaws for AAUW. A couple of us are studying them more closely thanks to questions raised by other members in other states. The educational piece to the membership issue raised a lot of lively conversation in the Monday night book group, but the fact is, it’s the other stuff that is starting to make us scratch our heads.

At issue is the idea that a person could be appointed to the AAUW national board without being a member FIRST. If appointed, the non-member is honor-bound to join. So, does this mean that I can be appointed to the AMA board, if I join afterward? Preposterous, right? And yet, that was the argument paraphrased from a doctor member of our branch.

Also at issue is the fact that members will not be electing the vice president of finance. That board member will be appointed, and could, conceivably, not be a member of AAUW when appointed to the board. Eh?

Huh? Are they kidding? Where did they get this stuff? (These are the cleaned up remarks of the bylaws study group.)

I shared the extra long proposed comment from a guy member in Minnesota, in which he labored to rationalize the removal of the educational piece to the membership requirement. The response was (again, cleaned up and paraphrased accordingly), first mistake was letting men into AAUW. Give them an inch and they try to take over. Why doesn’t he just start a men’s organization that works toward equity for women? When I explained my brevity requirement for responses, the wisecrack that caused me to grin broadly was this one: “Men are only brief when they shouldn’t be.” I’ll leave it to my readership to determine the true meaning of that one. The possibilities have had me chuckling for a few days now.

Anyway, we will be resuming our studies next week-ish, after we have had time to do more independent study. We are thinking we should be ready with proposals for the branch delegates to use as proposed amendments. In the meantime, hearing from members from other corners of the country has been interesting. I’m more than a little worried about long time members who vow they will quietly resign if control over the national board is relinquished in such a way. I don’t think I’d resign quietly…. I think I’d make sure the whole of AAUW-land knew the reasons. These are women who have been contributing to the endowment for years. The idea that the oversight of that money will be set up in such a dodgy manner is scary to them. That lawyers advised doesn’t make anyone feel better…..lawyers are trained to argue any side of an argument and to defend guilty people.

More rain here in the Star City. I was going to go home and mow when the rain started up again. Maybe tomorrow…..

Saturday was the Herb Society’s second annual Scarborough Faire event at the Arboretum. We had even more vendors and, as usual, a list of excellent speakers and programs. Best of all, though, was when Big Kitty ran into Joy.

Nine years ago, we sat in the front row of our church, in the parents’ seats, and held baby Jeremy Dane while his moms were committing themselves to each other. Sadly, the partnership dissolved, but we tried to stay close to both women because we love both of them a lot. Then, when we drifted away from our church, we lost track. This was not something I ever felt too good about, and we often grumped that we needed to track down Joy. (I’d see Hillary from time to time, but she was a little distant, so I knew enough to let her be until she was ready to reconnect.)

So Joy is on Facebook, and I’m on Facebook, and now we’re able to stay in touch like everyone else! Then - and this is the beauty of Facebook - another friend in common saw that Joy and I had become “friends” (Facebook-speak for being connected), and she contacted me. What a lovely surprise that was!

Here is what I like about Facebook: the reconnections with people I never wanted to lose track of in the first place. Due to time, distances, and the day to day mess of life, we hadn’t managed to stay in touch. But now I know what they are up to and it’s great!

I used to marvel that email helped me stay in touch with people so much better. I am notorious for not using the phone like I should, so email really helped. But Facebook is even better. Of course there are a lot of silly things, like the moment to moment declarations of what we are doing, but taken in the right spirit, those can be hilariously funny windows into our friends’ states of mind.

One friend, a techno-wizard, has been railing against Vista and all the problems she was having with a couple of websites she manages. Her eruptions are priceless. Facebook is how I learned another friend had just lost his dog. My cousin’s daughter is on Facebook, and we have been having a good time getting to know one another - she’s a shopaholic, too!

Facebook has also brought me closer to people who mean a lot to me. I wish it would do the same for a few who remain a little too far away, but you can’t make people connect until they are ready. You can’t beat this for finding out that the neighbor had a tiring day - lets me know that she might need some space, or she might need a ready ear.

And then there are the stupid things like the never-ending list of quizzes to take. (What is your Mafia name? What color are you? Which car are you? The five things that remind you of your childhood. The five cities you love most.)

My personal favorites are the games. I’m in a Scrabble game with Sidran in Denver. She’s killing me. My tiles are in the sewer. I’m practicing Bananagrams, too. Then there is the game to end all games: Mafia Wars. Uncle Luco loves me. He’s rewarded me several times. I’m close to being a billionaire. Wish it was my real bank balance!

So, yeah, we can be snide about Twitter (aptly named, I think) and we can joke about people who are addicted to their Blackberries. But then there is Facebook, where people connect and even if they are staying a little on the sidelines in person, they know what is going on with their friends. They have the ability to see that everyone is okay, and if they aren’t, they can type a note.

The Rev. Walter Braman used to ask us, “How does this build community?” I think that’s what Facebook does in a world where we are separated by distance and daily busyness. It builds a community of online people who like to keep in touch, reconnect with lost pals, and who enjoy getting to know others a little better.

Wonder if I have enough energy built up…I need to do some jobs so I can get a second body guard and some night vision goggles. I’m on the Capo Level and cranking right along……. Then I have to see what I can do on Scrabble.

This morning I read a stellar letter to the editor that was from, I am pretty sure, my history professor. It had to do with rebutting the op-ed piece that was written by a religion professor at another local college. I won’t dignify it by giving his name because he doesn’t deserve any more mention…

Once again that man had to write something that said if we legalize gay marriage, it’s going to lead to legalizing polygamy.

My professor went point by point and refuted the arguments (this is why I’m pretty sure it was my guy who wrote this piece), and raised serious questions about each. For example:

“2. If marriage is primarily a religious custom, are nonbelievers less legitimately married?”

My question: are the believers limited to only certain denominations? Is this guy suggesting that since we belong to a denomination that welcomes all those who seek religious truth wherever it may be found, that our marriage, which was performed by a doctor of divinity in our faith, is not valid? Tell that to the IRS!

My personal favorite was this one:

“4. If marriage is meant only for “sexual opposites” because the union is “primarily for the procreation of children,” is the marital union of couples who choose not to have children, or who are incapable of it, morally inferior?”

Another question from me: So those of us who are ‘of an age’ when we luck into finding the perfect spouse, and who are no longer driven to procreate (not that either Big Kitty or I ever wanted to do that), have a marriage that is not as important or as valid as those where kids were involved? Hmmm Then if we wanted to split, all we’d have to do is depart each other’s company and we wouldn’t have to go through all that legal mess?

But finally, he had this line:

“Since he has a window into the future, could he also advise me what stocks to buy, or perhaps tip me off on the win, place and show at Churchill Downs this year?”

I was howling out loud over that one! 

The window to the future referred to the religion guy’s certainty that gay marriage was only the first step toward legalizing polygamy. Personally, I think the guy needs to enroll in the history class to learn about how Americans have felt about polygamy….. Maybe he should interview some of Joseph Smith’s and Brigham Young’s descendants about what all they have had to live down…. His leap (of faith?) doesn’t compute.

That was the first hot button.

The second was an email from national AAUW soliciting donations in honor of our mothers. It’s no secret that I despise Mothers’ Day. When you don’t have one, it’s hard to get worked up over a Hallmark Holiday. When your husband shirks his Hallmark duties with his own mother and she expects you to do it for him, that’s just not acceptable. It makes a girl really angry. Well, at least this one.

Ah, well. I don’t have money for them. I have local entities that need my paltry hand-outs! Their names are Barney, Charlie, Simon and Big Kitty! For the record, they don’t give me Mother’s Day cards or presents, either. We’re a household of Hallmark Holiday infidels!

As it happens, marriage and Mother’s Day are two very difficult issues for a lot of people. Two of the happiest people on earth are Brent ‘n Butch. They have stars in their eyes, and it’s been a few years. When Butch’s mother, Miss Emma Lou, could no longer live on her own, she went to live with her son and his spouse. Here in Virginia, I am inviting trouble to refer to Brent as being Butch’s spouse, but it is what it is. Brent cared for his mother-in-law with all the love and faithfulness he had extended to his grandmother when she needed help. When they could no longer keep her at home, they found a really nice place for her and the visits are regular - by both of them.

I know hetero couples who do not work together with that kind of harmony, or sense of purpose.

I don’t ever remember being put off by gays or their relationships. I had a cousin who rode motorcycles, wore pants and lived with a woman roommate. My grandmother and aunt and great-aunt lamented the fact that she always wore pants. Her mother said it was because she had unsightly sores on her legs. From the vantage point of history (thank you Dr. Hanson!), I can now say, with certainty, that my cousin in all likelihood was a lesbian. So what? Did I turn into one because of it? Not hardly…

The point is, gay couples in committed relationships have been in existence for more years than people who are purposefully ignorant of history care to acknowledge. The women who first lived in our house had a “Boston marriage.” They both taught in our schools.  By and large, the best administrators in the Star City’s school division have been gay women in committed relationships. Has it meant that our kids are now running off to have gay sex? Not hardly.

Has the Star City or any other community seen an influx of illicit polygamy as a result of their gay residents being in committed relationships? Are Brent ‘n Butch’s neighbors in C’ville taking in multiple wives and looking for ways to make it legal?

So where does this guy get these ideas and furthermore, why in heaven’s name does the newspaper give him those huge op-ed spaces in which to spout his nonsense?

Wayne ‘n David went across the border to California to get married, before all that Mormon money bought them a constitutional amendment banning the civil proceeding. (I think their constitution is too easily amended, but that’s the left coast for ya.) If the Mormons are putting the brakes on gay marriage, is it because they fear the pockets of old-time Mormons are going to rise up and demand legal status for their multiple marriages? I don’t know. And I bet no one else is willing to put money on that, either. (Take that “Big Love”!)

Over the last 40 years, give or take, of my life, I have seen a lot of social upheaval that has changed our culture. Some of it hasn’t been necessarily for the good, and some of it fizzled out. Some of it has helped and some of it has set us back. One constant is that we have been trying, over and over, to get it right where discrimination is concerned. It was a big deal when interracial marriage was legalized, but it sure didn’t lead to scores of interracial couples flocking to the city clerk’s office for marriage licenses. All of the hand-wringing was for naught. The same will be true when the U.S. decides, once and for all, to separate civil and religious unions.

Right now, in this country, there are going to be countless gay couples who go all out for Mother’s Day. These are the people who are teaching us that it goes beyond the one day of the year designated for this kind of thing. These are the people who are showing us that two dads can successfully raise boys and girls, two moms can successfully raise boys and girls, and no amount of red herrings will dissuade them from the rightness of how they live their lives, nor from the depth of their love for their families.

I think I’ll email my prof and ask if that other guy sent him any stock tips…