Surviving 40 Inches of Snow

I've learned a lot this week. You know, this week in which the D.C. area received 40 inches of snow. You know, this week in which my husband worked a total 1.5 days out of a possible 8 and I worked not once. You know, the time period of eight days in which I left the house in a car only twice.

One thing I learned about surviving this much snow is that, as much as possible, you have to keep up on the shoveling. Unless it all comes overnight, shoveling must be done every few hours. If you wait, it gets way too heavy and unmanageable. No one should ever have to lift the shovel four times just for one-shovel's-length of pavement. It's horrible.

And know what else about this much snow? There's no where to put it. Seriously. The piles around the sidewalks and driveway are over my head. I simply can't lift the snow (remember, this is an east coast storm with east coast heavy snow) that high. I was really frustrated when I learned this.


Another thing I learned is that proper clothing makes a world of difference. To stay warm and dry is the key to being able to stay outside for any long period of time. When you're dealing with 10 tons of snow to be removed, well, you need time. I bought Chuck a pair of snow pants for Christmas thinking I was about four days too late. Thank goodness I was wrong! I love that he's been able to put them to use. I, thankfully, have all my gear from my Kirkham's days. And Rhett has some snow pants and boots we picked up during the Christmas storm. Having the right clothes has made such a difference. Even if you can't move in them.

Also, eating is important. I don't mean cold cereal either, although that's still yummy. I mean white chicken chili, tacos, spaghetti and meatballs, pizza with this yummy sauce, steel-cut oats, banana nut biscotti, chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter, and peanut butter oreo pie. I don't think we eat this good when I can go to the store. But with all the shoveling, I still think we're losing weight. At least I am telling myself that.

Finally, you have to keep busy inside. We've done play-doh, movies (Adam--anyone seen this? It would be great on Valentine's Day.), crafts, reading, television (anyone else excited for Survivor? So many familiar faces!), and home improvement projects. I've even done some internet shopping. Tell me I'm not crazy for loving and then buying this. If you don't stay busy, you might try to stab yourself (or others) with icicles. No lie.


A couple of other minor gems: Don't look at the snow for too long. It's blinding.

Don't expect the ends of the Christmas Hot Tamales to last when you're snowbound for an entire week.

It has certainly not been an easy week, but at least it's been educational.

As Seen on KSL's Message Board About Our Storm

Apparently this article made a reference to all of us crazy east coasters going to the store for "staples." This is just a piece of the comments thread that Chuck and I found absolutely hysterical.

UtahDaze: I know that I make sure to keep a year supply of staples. Have you ever been in a severe storm and nothing to attach multiple papers together? Nightmare.

Darren R.: I remember running out once and I had to fold the pages together and then put some chewing gum on it to keep it all together. Those were some hard times.

i_hate_spam: You kids are spoiled. When I was young we didn't have chewing gum, only pine tree sap. It stuck those pages together good too!

American Rider: You had paper? You must have been rich. We only had leaves. (no staples please!)

Zablde: You just need to prepare with an emergency back up like the Staple free Stapler found at here.

Choose Your Own Crazy Ending

Some time ago, Chuck and I had an experience in which I questioned how we handled the last move. Play along and tell me what you would have done.

Picture this: I'm driving my car, Chuck was in the passenger's seat, and Rhett's in the car seat in the back. We were stopped at a red light and were in the right lane, with a right-turn only lane on our right and no other shoulder. Out of nowhere, BANG! The driver immediately behind me didn't stop in time and hit us. As she was not moving that fast, I didn't even realize it was a fender bender. (I though my engine had fallen out. Silly me.) Did Chuck:
a) Just wave to her and say, "No problemo!" (You know, because he speaks the Spanish.)
b) Get out and jump up and down and scream and yell obscenities, or
c) Get out of the car and check for damages like a normal and sane human being.

Here we both agreed that (C) was the only right answer for us, although (B) would have been fun too. Upon car inspection and finding no real damage to the bumper of my car, did Chuck then:
a) Just wave to her and say, "No problemo!" (You know, because he speaks the Spanish.)
b) Approach the driver of the car and inform her we're calling the cops, or
c) Approach the driver of the car and ask for insurance information, you know, just in case.

Again, we both agreed that (C) was the only right answer. No need to involve the cops because nothing that bad had happened. If Rhett hadn't been in the car, we probably would have chosen (A). But if something latent happened to Rhett, well, we wanted to be safe. I still think it's the right decision. So, the driver rolled down her window and said that she'd like to pull off the side of the road. It was a Friday around 4:30 p.m., we were on a pretty major road, and the light had already changed to green. Clearly we were going to become a traffic hazard very quickly. And in D.C., you don't fool with traffic, so Chuck said fine. As Chuck got back into my car, we realized that she drove away! I'm not even lying. She. Drove. Away. Do I:
a) Just shake my head and exasperatedly say, "People!"
b) Get out and jump up and down and scream and yell obscenities, or
c) Start following that car!

Again, we both agreed that (C) was the only right answer. We made it through the light and then the next. At this point, the road starts going up a hill and we can see her little car flying and weaving through traffic. I thought I'd keep going through the next light, but I certainly won't commit to drive to West Virginia over this. We came up to a warning signal alerting us to a red light up ahead. We know we got her. Because she's in the right lane and we know we need to be along side of her, not just behind her, I pull into the left-turn lane and park the car (no one was behind us). Did Chuck :
a) Shake a fist at her to let her know we are most definitely NOT pleased,
b) Pull out a knife and stab her tires, or
c) Get out and approach her car and speak in a slightly louder voice.

Chuck chose (C). I'm not sure this is what I wanted him to do. I mean, it was afternoon rush hour and there were cars and a light that was soon to change to green. But this woman hit our car (a car with a toddler inside) and then she drove away. I was angry, and I knew Chuck was too, so I wasn't that angry with his decision. When he got to her car, she screamed that she wasn't going to stop and started to move when the light turned green. Chuck still tried to get her to stop by putting himself in front of her car and had he not moved, she would have run him over. Thankfully he moved. He safely got back in my car. Meanwhile, we wrote down her license plate number. Did we:
a) Just shake our heads and exasperatedly say, "People!"
b) Put up fugitive posters with her picture all over town, or
c) Call the cops to report a hit and run.

We chose (C) and even now, I think it was the right answer. Chuck and I have strong feelings that one of the problems with the world today is that people simply don't take responsibility for their actions and here was a perfect example of that coming true. This woman HIT OUR CAR and thought by driving fast and mean that she was going to get away with it. We were not going to let that happen. Later that night when the cop came to our house he took our report. He then put the decision on us. Did we decide to:
a) Drop it and nothing more happened, or
b) Ask the officer to pursue her and issue her a set of tickets that will have to be paid for in person in front of a judge.

Here's where I wonder if we did the right thing. We chose (B). What would you have done?

P.S. Chuck's out of school through the end of the week and the government is closed today for the third day in a row. Three days people. This is huge. More on our stormy week later.

Snowpocalypse, Part 2

First, Chuck's school has already been cancelled for Monday and Tuesday--yippee! More chores for him. :)

Yes, this really was a "Randy" situation like A Christmas Story. I'm a mean mom.

How do we still have power after something like this?

That's the depth in the backyard--crotch level.

We're even meaner dog parents.

The awning collapsed when we were outside. We're glad we weren't underneath it at the time.

Rhett sitting in his snow chair. We used to make entire houses when I was little.

Freaky Winter

It's official. My sister (who has some exciting news to share so I'll wait for you to go read her post and then come back to me) and I have somehow, inexplicably changed locales when it comes to winter weather. She lives in western Colorado and has seen barely any snow this season, but has had a lot of cold. Chuck and I, on the other hand, just finished shoveling only 1/4 of the snow we'll need to do today, and that's before the predicted eight additional inches fall. Then we'll have to start all over. (Good thing I'm getting this workout because now I don't feel so guilty about my three-donut breakfast.)

This season so far has delivered two storms of about four or five inches, the Christmas storm of 20 inches, and this one which will end up at two plus feet. And if that's not enough, we're expecting another storm Tuesday night. Chuck thinks it will get him out of school for next week entirely. We're certainly not having any church tomorrow. We can't even help Chuck's power-less parents.

Mother Nature 3, Us 2

Well, Mother Nature can keep us from running an "official donut race," but she can't keep us from wearing our shirts and eating donuts. And running (I got that in early this morning). Take that Mother Nature---POW!!!


Here's my effort to say something nice about the snow: Because we thought we'd be running a crazy donut race this weekend, we bought tickets to the Banff Film Festival for last night (a Thursday). If we weren't going out of town, we'd never have picked a weeknight to go DOWNTOWN. But we did. And boy are we glad! Because of the snow, it's unknown whether Metro would be able to get us there, meaning we would have missed out. Instead, we got to see five great films, the best of which was this guy who drove a tandem bike from the top of North America to the bottom of South America, picking up friends along the way. Hysterical.

Thanks to Chuck's mom for the donuts. And thanks to Aunt Mary for watching Rhett overnight so Chuck and I could go on a date!

Go Ahead, Call Me Frosty the Scrooge

I used to love it when it snowed. In Utah, the snow was guaranteed to be soft, white, and fluffy. In Utah, it was awesome to go out and play in it. You can snowshoe or ski and could easily do those things, you know, because roads were plowed and you could get to places to do them. In Utah, people know how to drive and they have myriad snowplows working to get the roads cleared lickety split. In Utah, I ran in a gym--a warm, dry gym where I'd wear shorts, even in January. In Utah, residents know how to take care of their property and clear snow off driveways and sidewalks.

But here, none of that is true. The snow is not guaranteed to be soft, white, or fluffy. (Although, in fair disclosure, this season's snow has been. The one consolation.) There's nowhere near us to snowshoe or ski. In Maryland, people don't know how to drive (which I understand because whenever would they learn?!) and have three snowplows to clear the entire county. Since mid-January, I no longer belong to a gym, so I have to rely on my neighbors to clear the snow so Rhett and I can run. But alas, my neighbors don't know that BY LAW they must clear the walks within 24 or nasty neighbors could report them. (Just puttin' it out there that it could happen.)

So as much as it saddens me to say it, I don't like the snow. Of course I say this just as we got another small storm last night. Sigh.

In full disclosure: The one good thing about Maryland snow and my life is that I happen to be married to a school teacher. A school teacher who teaches in a school system where school is cancelled for threat of snow. Or for the three inches we got overnight. Snow days also give us scenes like these:

I Did It!

The crumb topping went off beautifully last night; thanks for all the support. Never mind that it took about an hour to create. I did it. And it was YUMMY. See the recipe here.

Please Tell Me That This Has Happened To You

Saturday night I got an opportunity to try a dessert recipe I've been waiting to try. The snow kept planned dinner guests at their home, but we decided to not let that stop us from trying it. Why? Because it looked too yummy. It involved fried bananas, ice cream, and a crumb topping.

But first a little history: Crumb toppings and I are not friends. In fact, maybe we're unrequited lovers. I love crumb topping, but he/she does not love me back. At all. In fact, I think crumb topping hates me. If a crumb topping has butter in it (which any good crumb topping should), it just ends up as a crumb ball.

Last night was no different. First, I cut my butter into little cubes and placed it back in the fridge, in case my hands had at all warmed it. Second, I mixed the dry ingredients. Finally, I had Chuck blend in the butter. But when he was done, I knew it was ruined. I in no way blame him, though. It was guaranteed to turn out that way had I done it. At least with him it had a chance.

Nevertheless, I was devastated. This particular crumb topping also had a cup of nuts. A full cup. Do you know how much that costs? More than I'd care to throw in the trash, that's for sure. It killed me. I was near tears and snapped at Chuck all night because of how upset it made me.

So basically, please tell me that cooking can be this dramatic for others. And then wish me luck as I try it again today for FHE.

Flashback Friday: My First Email Address

Every Sunday and Wednesday I get to spend time with the Young Women in my ward. When I'm with them, I generally feel like I'm maybe five years away from where they are. Sometimes I feel like I'm their age. But every once in awhile I'm get a jolt of "oh erin, how foolish are you? You could be their mother!" (We have mostly Beehives so at my age of 32, yes, I could certainly be their mother.)

One thing that really ages me is the fact that I didn't have an email address until college. That's right: college. The girls think this is hysterical. Never mind that most of these girls don't even check their email that often; they're too busy with Facebook (the main reason I joined) and other stuff to bother. But still. They at least have email addresses.

Let's remember my first email address...Picture it: the University of Utah, Fall 1995. I had just moved into the dorms and my floor mates and I were quickly getting acquainted. I think it was the Saturday before classes were to begin when we all decided to trek to the library to get our email addresses. I was so proud of that email address, in all its awkward glory. Seriously: erin.lastname@m.cc.utah.edu. Can you believe that domain name?! What a mess! And we had to telnet to Pine in order to access our email. No web-browser-enabled email back then. And if it were web-based, it would be accessed using Netscape. Awesome. My Young Women have probably never heard of Netscape.

The best thing about this new-fangled email was the fact that we floormates just forwarded dumb forwards back and forth between each other. Jessica would send something to all of us, then all of us would forward it back to all of us, including Jessica. It was great.

We had a great year, that freshman year. I met Carrie, who introduced me to Gina and Lori, who would become my roommates for the next three years or four years. Good times.

Seriously, when I look at my graduating Laurels, I am so jealous of the fun times they have in front of them! They are just so lucky to already have those email addresses.

Made by e: Latest Projects

I needed something to organize all the loose papers on my fridge. I think this will work. Bonus that it matches my oven mitts.

These bags. Oh, these bags. I intended them to fit my church binder but they're about one inch too small. Now what am I supposed to do with them?!

Cute little boy tees with appliqued ties for my oldest, dearest "Virginia Mormon friend," Tamara, and her brand new lovely boys.

We had the most hideous doorbell chime cover and I knew it must be replaced. Can you tell that it's our house?

Freezer Paper Stencil Tutorial

I know that there are many, many tutorials out there for this type of thing, most of which better written and better photographed. But my dear sister-in-law Linda seemed to not believe them. I want to show her that not only can I do them without making a mess, but so can her brother!

Step 1: Find an image you like. Trace it onto freezer paper. As long as you put the waxy side down when tracing, there is no need to reverse the image. (And since you can only trace onto the non-waxy side, this is a no-brainer.) You can do a Google images search and narrow the search by black and white, or even outline. Freezer paper should be findable in most grocery stores; if not there, check your mother-in-law's house (that's where I get mine, but not because I can't find it in stores, only because I'm lazy).

Step 2: Cut out the pieces that you want to be painted onto the shirt. I used an X-acto knife and it was easy, tho maybe a bit time-consuming. Make sure you put something underneath your knife since it will cut your kitchen table! (Thankfully I didn't learn this the hard way.) Also, if you ever want to use the cut-outs and do a negative-style job (see here for an example), then make sure you only cut on your lines.


Step 3: Iron the stencil onto the shirt. Do this by putting the waxy-side on the shirt, covering with a pressing cloth, and then ironing. I do mine with the cotton setting and spend about 30 seconds pressing. And then because I am a freak and I get nervous, I take off the pressing cloth and just iron directly onto the freezer paper! Whoa--living on the edge. But not for too long.

Step 3 1/2: Insert some cardboard between the layers of shirt. If not, paint might bleed in the next step. I found cereal boxes work great.

Step 4: Paint! I bought my fabric paints at Michael's and they were about $1.75. Make sure they say "fabric paint." (At my store, these paints were by the t-shirts, not with the regular acrylic paints.) And feel free to paint onto the freezer paper. If you want to do two coats, read the bottle's instructions on how long before it's dry and ready for that second coat.

See how messy we were! This is about as messy as this project gets. (See the name stencils in the background?)


Step 5: After drying (again, look at the bottle for an estimate on time), peel off the stencil. It should come off fairly easily.


Voila! Isn't it great?! The lines are so sharp and stay that way after washing!


Step 6: If your design requires more than one color, wait until the first color is dry before applying the next stencil. But don't worry: the stencil will iron on top of the paint, no problem. It will then peel off fine too, without taking paint 1 with it. (You didn't think we were making shirts that encourage puking, did you?!) And then repeat the whole process.


Your final project will be, no doubt, equally as great as this! (Seriously, how great is this shirt for running a race in which we run two miles, eat a dozen donuts, and then run the two miles back?! It's perfect!)

Flashback Friday: Rhett's Picks

Rhett loves this picture of me, asking me for "boo mama" whenever he wants to see it. Emily at least looks cute!

And I like this one because it has nearly every friend I had from elementary school, with the only missing person being my BFF for third, fourth, and fifth grades. (And yes, we were truly BFFs in that we have the necklaces to prove it.) I'm in the very front (I think it's my birthday) with Emily just behind me. (What is in your mouth Emily? Gum I'm sure. And by gum, I mean probably six pieces of gum.) Anyway, I am proud to say that I am friends with all but one of these ladies on Facebook (as well as a couple in blog-topia) and we regularly keep in touch. In fact, some of us recently discussed having a reunion.

I Want To Go There

If I haven't outted myself enough as a Nerd with a capital "N," then I do so now. I want to go to the Sudoku National Championship this year. As in, I really really want to go. I know it's in far-away October, and I know they haven't made any announcements about it even happening this year. But some day, I will go there and compete. Even if it's just me competing against Chuck.

P.S. That container of caramel popcorn? 19 servings. NINETEEN. Seriously? Try three Trader Joe's. Good job Alyssa! And thanks to everyone who made me feel better about my three.

P.P.S. Remember this contest? Well, yesterday the snow finally disappeared! The person closest to the bid was emily. However, she's my sister and she always gets my stuff. In fact, I have a package in the works for her right now. So she's eliminated. That means Shauna and Aaron win! I'll get your free crap stuff to you soon. Thanks for playing!

Does Anyone Want These? I'll Give Them to You. I'm Not Kidding.

This is a set of monthly cross-stitched pillows. They have ribbons so you can hang them from something. They're about 3" finished size.
And this is a set of pillow cases (with zippers) for the most-decorative months of the year. They fit a 12" pillow form (not included). Serious inquiries only.

Can I file this post under un-crafting? Seriously, a little tacky, yes? Just makes me wonder what I'll think of my current projects in twenty years.

I Just Can't Get Enough

I feel like my blog has been a bit Rhett-heavy recently. This is because myriad things: first, we haven't traveled anywhere since Thanksgiving, and we won't be until February. Second, it's winter and therefore cold. Not many terribly fun things going on inside. Third, after a rush to get Christmas gifts done, I am on hiatus for crafting (this stops this weekend with the arrival of TWO sets of new fabrics! woo hoo!) Finally, I am utterly in love with the boy and want to talk about him all the time.

He's nearing 22 months old (we've advanced to saying, "He'll be two in March" when asked that pesky age question). And this age, this 22 month age, is hands down my favorite time with him to date. He's absolutely hysterical and I can't wait to see what he'll say and do next.

I love that he's learning relatives sizes. Everything that is BIG is called "mama." (Yes, it helps the self-esteem, thanks for asking), and everything that is little is called "baby." We have "baby bowls" as well as "mama bowls," etc. The best part about this way of distinguishing sizes is that sometimes when he's talking about something BIG, his voice gets very deep and drawn out when saying the adjective "mama." Can you picture it? And what do you think he calls this little person? That's right: "baby mama" (a little version of me). Love it.

I love that when he goes to bed, he isn't just happy with "elmo baby" (the combination of elmo and a thrifted baby doll my jogging stroller once ran over; the twain are ne'er apart). Oh no, he needs more companionship than just one "elmo baby." He wants his "doggie." And by doggie, I mean every doggie he has (which I think is four). He also requires "oo oo" (monkey). Of course, this isn't just one monkey, it's "baby oo oo," "mama oo oo," and the general sock monkey "oo oo." And when he wants "baa" he doesn't want one sheep, it's both. Now, not every day requires every set, but every day requires at least one set. The other day I was laughing too hard to tell him no and his crib ended up like this. Love it.

I love that he's such a yes-child. With all of the words that currently make up his vocabulary, "no" is simply not included. (If you think you've heard him say it, I'd bet $100 that he was saying "snow" or "milk" instead.) In place of no is the far-more-preferential "Yeah!" For example, "Hey Rhett, want to go to the store?" "YEAH!" "Hey Rhett, want to help feed Bruno?" "YEAH!" "Hey Rhett, want to take a nap?" "YEAH!" as he runs to his room. Every once in a while we'll get a head shake to indicate he really doesn't want something (like being put in a grocery cart). But for the most part, the kid is up for anything we put out there. Including blind sliding on the "wheeee." Love it.

I love that at this age, he's still part baby, as evidenced by this shot. He found his hidden pacifier but could barely remember how to use it. He put it in for a second until he took it out (at which point it was conveniently re-hidden). In so many ways, he's still my baby. But in so many other ways, he's such a little boy! Love it.

I love that he's obsessed with the idea of being happy. Whenever we're reading books and he sees people smiling he'll point and say "happy." Or if he's being particularly sweet and I'm beaming at him I'll get a "happy mama." At which point he'll say "happy baby" while pointing at himself. The best, though, is when he's throwing a fit and I say, "I'm sorry you're so mad right now," he'll start insisting that he's happy. So picture this: a sobbing child screaming "happy" over and over. Love it.

Of course there are hard times. Like yesterday when he was mad that Bruno ate his cracker. Or whenever I make him come inside after being outside. Or any time he gets woken up rather than letting him wake up on his own. Not happy times. But most of the time, I am overwhelmed by how much I love this little dude.

Another Poll

So yes, I agree with all of you in that the picture (in this post) on Rhett's shirt is indeed a monkey. Case closed. (Except for Chuck who totally lost that one. A mouse? Really, Chuck? Teehee.)

Now tell me, how many servings do you think are contained in this container of yumminess?

The Pugs are Back!

And Rhett is going to tell you all about them...

Best Calling EVER

I had another crazy dream. In this one, I was back in college living in the dorms. One of my roommates was my dear friend, Camie (with whom I was never college roommates, but you know dreams). Our dorms were uber-cool metallic-y lofts. However, Camie and I felt quite out of place as we were easily 15 years old than the freshmen. Oh well, we thought. We'd enjoy laughing at the travails of the younger crowd.

When I went to church the first Sunday and was invited to speak with a member of the bishopric, I knew a calling was in my forecast. He asked me about my interest in music. Sensing a call to ward choir or something equally horrifying, I told him that while I enjoy music, I know nothing about it. Which is totally true--phew. I hate lying to bishopric members.

I could tell that he was struggling to find a place for me and didn't want me to be calling-free (which, of course, would have been totally fine with me). But then he said these magic words, "The only thing we have left is the barometer reader." WHAT the WHAT!? Uh, hello!? It's geography (close enough) and math (measurement) and something totally un-churchy. It was perfect for me! I couldn't believe my luck.

Of course I woke up to my awake-life calling, which is totally fine. It did get me thinking about what my favorite calling would be, though. I think I'd make a great ward statistician (I've heard reports of some wards having them). But since that doesn't feel real enough, I'd love to be the finance clerk. Alas, while that calling is real, it's a male-only one. Sigh. And I'm not exactly sure what my church status would be were I to turn myself into a male, thus making the gender-reassignment surgery pointless.
And just in case you were wondering, the current barometric pressure is at 30.24 (768 mm) and rising.

A Post in Which I Learn a Parenting Lesson

It started out so innocently. While I was busy making cinnamon rolls, I gave Rhett his own little bowl and two measuring spoons to play with. I expected him to make a mess, but that was okay because I knew I'd sweep later. What a fun mom I am!


I put a small amount of granulated sugar in his little bowl, but apparently it was not enough. He'd like to get the sugar into his spoons, and didn't quite have the necessary dexterity to do so with the initial amount. I said, okay, let's put some powdered sugar into that bowl, and hey--fill 'er up!

I'm sure anyone with a kid can tell me what happened next. He started to eat it. And I'm not talking just dipping in the finger and licking; I'm talking spoonsful of sugar. Awesome.

And by now, it's all over the place. Still, I found it endearing. What a sweet, funny boy is he! But really, that's probably enough sugar. Time to take it away! Say, "Bye bye sugar!" Should be easy, right?

And what you don't see is the temper tantrum that I'm sure every other parent saw coming. Probably even non-parents saw it coming. Yet somehow I missed it. What we had was the biggest meltdown this kid ever had. I mean, cries where I didn't think he'd start breathing again. It was great.

Lesson learned: next time I'll give him flour.

P.S. Settle a dispute by filling in the blank: The character on Rhett's shirt in the above pictures is a __________.

This Kid is WEIRD

We used to think his casual, laid back attitude was pretty funny. I mean, what child sits in his high chair with both arms behind his head like this? Where did he learn this, anyway?


Then he started saying "Go Dog, Go" into anything and everything: socks, bowls, shoes, hats, his hands. Everything. Oh my. Should we be worried?

Flashback Friday

To ring in the new year, how about this beauty? Don't we look nice and sparkly?

Happy Anniversary to Us

Five years. Holy moly. Five years! Happy Anniversary to us. We'll be in Baltimore if anyone needs us. Nobody better need us.