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New Kitten

I don’t know if I wrote it here but in March my very favorite loving cat Tank passed away. Immediately afterward my husband said – We have enough cats. A couple weeks later I mentioned that I would really like a ginger kitten. I’ve had several ginger cats over the years but only temporarily. There was the one that I kept for my friends while they moved to the west coast. That cat was very cool but too soon I had to put him on a plane to go to his family. Then there was the friendly feral that I fed in Florida. He was too old to be tamed in a house that already had two cats. I did hook him up with a rescue organization who would neuter him and get him a proper home.

The last and saddest was Morris who was apparently dumped near our house in Virginia. He was the friendliest cat to people but he hated other male cats. He had obviously been loved at one time. Anybody who came to the house could go out and be warmly welcomed by Morris but he attacked other cats. He needed to be neutered and I made arrangements for it hoping he would calm down. Unfortunately the vet found that he was too sick to be nuetered, was FIV positve, and going blind from being in so many fights. I couldn’t bring him in and I couldn’t in good conscience let him back outside. Most of my neighbors appear to be cat lovers but I am the only one (weird, non-rural brought up, person) who keeps their cats inside. His ashes are buried in the garden underneath his own azelea bush.

I let go of having a new kitten. Four cats really is a lot of cats to care for. and then my husband sends me this:

It was 4:15. By 5:30 I had gone to the shelter, filled out the paperwork and was bringing home Oliver.


He’s very sweet and is fitting in well with the others.


Anyone else having trouble with doing anything at this time. I’m not talking about you who have jobs especially essential ones. I’m talking about people who are stuck at home with no place to go. People whose big outing of the week is the grocery store. People like me with no art festivals to go to.

Every once in a while I get a burst of energy and do something but most days I have been sitting down in front of the computer in the morning to check the mail, deciding to play one game of solitaire and finding myself still sitting there at 3:00.

And I feel so much better when I stay busy. So I started a new plan with Outlook as my best friend. I live by appointment reminders especially now when the days tend to merge into one another.

So every Monday several reminders come up. Clean one room (3 reminders), take pictures, yardwork, and drive van. Then there are daily reminders to exercise and shower. It feels good to check things off. Of course, for taking pictures, the weather report immediately reported rain all week and since my husband is off tomorrow so that means yardwork today was the day to take pictures.

I got myself out of bed and ready to go in time for sunrise which didn’t really happen. The sun came up but there was no real indication except for it got lighter. I did get one image that I like though despite the gray sky. It will be up on the website soon.

Monday it starts all over again. Let’s see if I can keep this up for more than one week.

I’ve been working on a blog all day about recent events and failing miserably except to realize how priveleged and ignorant I am of the challenges facing my black friends and all black people.

A friend got this from another friend of hers and it is perfect for what I want to say. If anyone knows who to attribute this saying to please let me know.

allyship is a love language.

it says:

tell me what you need. i don’t know what to

do or what to say but i am here. at the ready.

willing. no criticism, no judgment. if you tell

me to do nothing i will do nothing. if you tell

me to speak i will lift my voice even if the

wrong things come out. no more will i be idle.

no more will i watch you suffer. i am with you.

here to listen. here to fight. here to shoulder

and make up for battles i have missed. i may

be late but that won’t happen again. standing.

holding. bleeding. mobilizing. unpacking my

own biases. my own privilege. full time, i will

learn. unlearn. disrupt systems of power if

you will have me. or not. i’m doing the work.

The Virtual Booth

Since it looks like at least two of my shows this year are going to be virtual here is my booth that you would have seen at the show.

Young Orange, Old Orange, Windblown Orange and Through the Woods

Young Orange and Windblown Orange are new this year and I think they make a great orange fall grouping together with Old Orange.

Blue Sky Yellow and Puffs in Yellow

These two are both new this year. There are also some yellows down below with the backup pieces. As always, if you are looking for a grouping and want to mix and match different pieces let me know and I will be glad to send you a thumbnail of what your choices will look like together.

Fall Green, Fall Vista, Horizon, New Grass, Summer Stream, Fall Stream, Winter Stream

Thre three horizontals are new and the four verticals are an old favorite grouping that I decided to bring back for a year. They are trees and a stream for every season.

Distant Mountains, Elephant and Tree, Sky Tree, Blue Fog, Uplift.

Distant Mountains and Elephant and Tree are part of a new style that I am playing with. There is also a third in this style in the backup pieces and a fourth on the website. Uplift is also a new addtion to my blue pieces. Ask me about other possiblities for a blue or blue and orange grouping.

Cades Cove Sunrise, Winter Reflection, Perfect Light and Snowstorm Travel in 8″ x 12″ canvas gallery wrap. Looking Up and HIllside Trees.

Canvas gallery wraps are available in many sizes in both standard and panorama format. Looking Up and HIllside Trees were new last year.

Sunlit Leaves, Early Morning Fog, Green Dance, and Fall Glass.

Fall Glass is new this year. There are several other green images available for a green grouping.

Foggy Day on the Farm, Lone Tree Sunrise, Mountain Clouds, Yellow Splash, Solitude, and Three Trees

This year I had several exhibitions cancelled and I had a very good fall photo trip which left me with more than the normal backup pieces. Three Trees and Solitude are new this year. They are additional possibilites for a yellow grouping.

Dancing in the Light, Color in the Fog, Intertwined, and Meadow Tree

Dancing in the Light and Color in the Fog are possiblities for a blue and orange grouping. Intertwined is a possibility for a green grouping and Meadow Tree is an additional black and white.

One of the advantages of a virtual show is that you are not limited to what I have with me. The whole website is open to you. After each virtual show in a particular location closes I will make a trip to a central spot near the location of the physical show to deliver framed pieces. Canvas gallery wraps and prints will be shipped directly. Special pricing applies to groupings. Feel free to contact me with any questions.

Motivation and Grief

I was noticing the other morning that I had zero motivation and I thought back to the last time I had felt that way.  It was when I moved from Florida to Virginia to join my husband who had been in Virginia already for five months.  I was looking forward to the move.  I missed my husband.  But when I got here, everything seemed a chore.  I called a good friend and she said nonchalantly “Do ya think you might be grieving?”  Hmm, maybe.  Everything was good, it was a good move, but still some things were lost.

So I asked myself that question the other morning.  And yes, although I am grateful that I am not hurting like many are, there are many things I am missing.  I’m especially missing doing art festivals.  I miss selling my work.  I miss seeing my artist friends.  I miss having conversations with potential buyers.

So I’m doing what another friend told me 10 years ago after the move which is to change my language.  Instead of saying “I have to”, I’m saying “I get to”.  I get to work in the yard.  I get to be more creative with cooking dinner.  And I still get to go out and take photographs.

I hope there is something in your life that instead of having to do, you get to do.

Below are my most recent image and also a picture of the landscaping I’ve been doing.


The Longest Months

It seems unreal how much things have changed.  On February 7th I had my hair done for my solo show opening at the McGuffey Art Center.  That night I saw many friends and mingled with many people.  No thought of a mask or hand sanitizer.  The end of February I went to a creative people convention in Lynchburg.  First news of COVID-19 had started to filter through and I noticed EVERYBODY in the bathroom washed their hands.  Still no masks and many face to face conversations.

I met a copywriter there and made arrangements for her to write descriptions for my website being sure to note that I needed them done in time for my first show in May (which didn’t happen).  I went to the dentist the beginning of March where the hygenist mentioned that there was a single case in Spotsy (Spotsylvania).  I made an appointment for the end of March for replacing a filling.  Worry is starting to creep in.  I had an eye appointment for the middle of March.  By this time there were cases starting to crop up in my county.  I cancelled it at the urging of my husband.  I was a little shocked when all I had to say to them was “I have asthma”.  I was expecting to explain.  They understood just from those three words.  Then the dentist called and cancelled my appointment.  I had been thinking about cancelling it but was a little surprised when they did.

Then my elderly cat got sick.  He suddenly looked very fat and his belly was hard.  The vet didn’t think it was serious at that point since I had been feeding him extra in an attempt to get him to gain weight.  I cut back his food and the next day the vet closed due to exposure to COVID-19.

In the meantime I’m on Facebook with my artist groups and we’re all discussing how to safely do shows.  I learned how to set up Square to not need a signature and threw a container of Clorox wipes in the van.  I ordered a mask on Etsy.

Cutting back food for Tank was having no effect although he was still acting normal.  I noticed my vet was going to be back open on April 6 so I made an appointment through an app.  They called that night and said they thought it was serious now and I should make an appointment with a vet they recommended that was open.  It was a Friday.  Saturday I called and made an appointment for Sunday.  Sunday I called and cancelled it.  Monday morning I looked in his eyes and I knew he was in pain.  I called at 10:00 and they gave me an appointment for 11:00.  Just enough time to pick him up, put him in his carrier, and go.  I have my hair pulled back, a washable hat on my head, long sleeved shirt, a washable jacket, a bandana and rubber gloves.  Just a month previous I was at a convention and just made sure to wash my hands well.

The vet was very kind.  I was terrified that he would have to be put down without me with him.  I was hoping for a miracle but I knew that Tank had already lived longer than most Bengals and he had been going slowly downhill for the past year.  He was my very favorite cat of all of them.  He had slept with me all his life.  All his life he had stolen my hair ties and knocked things off my dresser and sat in my lap while I worked.

The vet called and offered more tests but said yes, that he was in pain, and yes, it was time.  I asked if I could be with him and they made arrangements for me to come in through the back door.  Tank was put to sleep wrapped in a towel by people covered in plastic with kind eyes.  But I was able to hold him and tell him how loved he was and that I would miss him.

It is the beginning of May now.  Shows up until the end of July have either been cancelled or rescheduled for the fall.  I will probably end up dropping out of the one the end of July but I have decided to wait to decide until June to make the decision.   It’s a balancing act.  If they cancel I probably get my booth fee back.  If I cancel I don’t.  I’ve seen how quickly things can change but I think it’s going to get worse for awhile.

I realize I’ve never written here about Tank.  You can read his tribute at


Wow, I haven’t written anything since 2017 here.  I moved my blog to Zenfolio and didn’t write in it much and now I’ve moved my website to Shopify ( and decided to come back here.  And I do happen to have a lot of time on my hands right now.  Art shows aren’t happening right now and possibly for quite a while.  And I have asthma which is usually well controlled but when it acts up it is bad and I am definitely a person who needs to stay at home right now.  So I feel kind of useless.

I retired from my day job in January 2018 and embarked upon a crazy year where I did way too many art shows and burnt myself out.  So 2019 was a whole new ballgame.  I cut back on shows, put my work in a couple galleries, joined a local art center, and entered work in some exhibitions.  It was a good year.  I was able to pay off one of our vehicles and I had high hopes for 2020.  It started out well.  I had a solo show at my local art center and sold some pieces.  Both galleries sold work and I made a nice commercial sale.  And then the bottom dropped out.  Shows were cancelled or rescheduled,  exhibitions were cancelled, and galleries were closed.

Ever the advance planner I had the whole booth ready and loaded into the van by March.  And it was a good booth too.  Some old favorites I decided to bring back for a year and I had a lot of new images that I really liked.  I had two sets of work to go for exhibitions that were cancelled.   In short I have so much work that it wouldn’t even all fit in the van.  After discovering the Garmin InReach I was all set to go deeper into hiking.  I walked up and down our long driveway every day to get myself ready.  I got maps and booklets of trails I wanted to do.  I was just waiting for warmer weather.  Then the trails in Shenandoah National Park were closed.

So here I am at home with a lot of time.  Making dinner has become the high point of my day.  My cooking has improved which has had an adverse affect on my waistline.  Weekly date night has turned into weekly grocery shopping.

I am grateful though.  My husband is working and we are both well.  The cats are fine although we are missing one which I will talk about in my next blog.


New Roads



The past few weekends I have been out searching for new roads.  There are so many beautiful scenes near my house but most of them are not able to be photographed due to fast roads and no shoulders.  I have a couple roads that I always go to because they are gravel with wide shoulders but I think I have gotten most of the pictures I can get from them.  So I’m searching for new roads.  This Saturday it was gloriously foggy so I took off early.  It was also pretty gloomy but I managed to get one image that I really like.  I also found some new roads for images so look for more coming (if it ever stops raining)

I also got a chance to test my new GPS attachment for my camera that I got for Christmas.  No more forgetting where I took a particular image.

I got word on Friday that I have been accepted into the Banner Elk August Fine Arts and Master Crafts Festival on August 11 – 13.










I wrote this several years ago in the middle of moving from Florida back to Virginia.  I came across it recently and thought you might enjoy it.

I was born in the mountains, not really, but my life began in the mountains.  I was actually born in Frankfurt, Germany, the daughter of a military man and his wife.   My father was a drunk and my mother was a martyr.  My mother was tough enough but always folded when push came to shove in favor of the middle class okay life.  She had grown up in the mountains, on a farm, a hardscrabble existence, and had no desire to return to anything like that.  Perhaps I got my love of the mountains from her or more likely, in spite of her.  I lived a dichotomy life.  I was controlled yet ignored.  Play was for lazy people and yet there was no work to be done by me, lest my feeble attempts be found wanting by my father and create another one of “those nights”.  I learned to read early and so I read.  I was not allowed to take lessons of any sort in case I might get good at something and in so doing cost a lot of money for my development.  In my parents’ world, nothing was to be done “half-assed” as my father would call it.  I wanted to take ice-skating lessons.  My mother explained over and over the incredible expense of getting good at ice-skating, the rink costs, and the coaches.  She feared I would become an Olympic star; I just wanted to be able to skate backwards.

I was, by God’s Grace, allowed to join the Girl Scouts.  For while I passed my time on Tuesday afternoons making crafts and giggling.   To best explain my mother I should tell you about the pinning ceremony.  When a girl joins the Girl Scouts she must learn the promise and the laws and then her pin is placed on her uniform upside down.  To have the pin placed right she is to do a task for her family every day until the pinning ceremony.  Other girls got tasks of taking out the trash, or watching their baby brother.  My task was to “be good”.  In other words, don’t upset your father.  Somehow I seemed to upset him quite a bit but never mind.  It just wouldn’t do for me to not get pinned.  That would be embarrassing for my mother and so I was pinned without any mention of my failure.

And then one day, I went with the Girl Scouts on a camping trip.  I loved everything about it except the night.  For some reason, I was always afraid at night.  At home I slept facing one window and had my dresser mirror placed so I could see the reflection of the other.  There were streetlights and it was never completely dark.  I cannot remember my first overnight camping trip or anything we did, but I can remember that first night as if were yesterday.  My leader was a gentle, loving, but stern woman who turned her flashlight on for me but cautioned me that the batteries would not last all night.  I woke up in the night to find a blackness I had never seen before and steeled myself to make it through to morning.  And in that steeling I began to hear the night noises, the gentle breeze in the trees, the howl of a wolf (most likely a dog but I thought it a wolf) and the very idea of everything going on, free and unordered, became wonder to me.  I lay awake and watched the morning come up and ever after I have loved to hear the morning come to life.  On that day I was born.  I loved the activity, the tasks of camping, but most of all I loved the mornings.  I would slip out of my sleeping bag, in the cold, and bring back to life the campfire from the night before.  I would sit alone with my thoughts and for those short hours all my life made sense.

Through the following years I went on many camping trips and hiked many trails.  I learned how to play guitar and sang around many campfires and then brought them back to life on cold mornings.  And I went away to two weeks of Girl Scout camp in the summer two glorious times.  Each time I would come home with a sense of peace and love to the jarring difference that was my home life, where nothing I did was right, where peace could be shattered by an improperly washed plate.  It was not horrible there.  I had a roof over my head and food in my belly every night at 5PM sharp.  I know now that my father was in the grips of a terrible disease and my mother was doing the best she could to keep that perfect façade for the outside world.  But what a difference there was between the mountains where the sense of peace was palpable and home where the sense of tension replaced the peace.  I know now, that the Girl Scouts, Camp May Flather, Peter, Paul, and Mary and Mrs. Harsch, who drove me back and forth to meetings for seven years, saved my sanity.

One might ask, with my love of mountains, what am I doing in Florida?  Well, while there are wonderful memories that pull on me every time I go to the mountains, one can’t grow up the way I did, without a lot of painful memories as well and with every rumble of a bulldozer it seemed the peace of the mountains was moving further and further away.  And without the peace of the mountains, northern Virginia is a difficult place to live.  House prices are high, traffic is awful, and the winters are cold.  I lived forty years in one area and memories surrounded me everywhere I went.

History has a way of weighing a person down to where you cannot change.  There came a day when I just felt I had to get out, that I would go crazy if I stayed one more day.  Things were not going well for me.  I hated my job, my house was too small to even have a corner of my own, and there was a woman who seemed intent on becoming best friends with my husband to my exclusion.  I didn’t move to Florida, I ran away from Virginia.  I tried to stay.  I remember one particular Thanksgiving where I took a few extra days off and every day drove to the mountains and hiked and took photographs.  On Monday I went back to work and within an hour it was worse than ever.

I remember the day I left.  I had gotten a job in Florida and the plan was that my husband would stay behind and sell the house and then join me.  I knew very well I was leaving him to the influences of his “friend” and I wondered what changes were coming for us.  And I didn’t care.  Well that may be a bad choice of words, I cared but it was his decision now and I would no longer try to influence it.  There is a favorite saying of mine that there is freedom in powerlessness.  And I was powerless over everything except the fact that I had to get out.  I have always found comfort in the words, Thy will, not mine, be done.  I was surrendering, turning it over to God, and with every mile on I95 I felt better and more empowered.

It all worked out okay.  My husband missed me.  I loved my new job and it was warm.  I would never need to see snow again.  Florida was a blank slate, an empty page, a brand new spiral bound notebook.  It was a chance not so much to reinvent myself but to become myself.  The shy, a little bit scared of life, shell around me slipped away and I emerged.

I was born in the mountains but I became an adult in Florida.  Free from the bondage of daily reminders of my past I flourished in Florida and I grew up.  One of the things I told myself that I wanted to do when I got to Florida was to “do something with my photography”.  I didn’t know quite what yet but I wanted to do “something”.  First I had to take photographs.  Florida is very different from Virginia.  At first I looked around and thought “what have I done?”  I had the room to work, I had the camera, I had the time, but the inspiration was lacking.  I remembered, despairingly, a part of a story I had read.  I can’t tell you the title, author, or even any more of the story but there was a part that stuck.  One of the main characters was a writer.  He had written for years using a typewriter in his kitchen and had found some success.  And with that success he moved to a bigger place where he had his own writing room, the latest tools, and a view of beautiful countryside. He promptly froze.  He could not write at all.  And here I was in much the same position.

At first glance, Florida is ugly.  The vast majority of Florida, at least where I was, is populated by spindly pine trees and scraggly palmettos.  In Virginia, one need only get to the right place and look around to find beauty.  I found I had to look harder in Florida.  One day, after a particularly frustrating day out taking photographs I got on the internet and I ordered “Cross Creek” by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings and I set out to find the essence of Florida.

The first things I found were the birds.  For a person used to cardinals and blue jays, beautiful birds in their own right but small and difficult to photograph, the great blue heron, the osprey, and the occasional bald eagle were magnificent. And they congregated among us.  When it rains in Florida, numerous ponds and puddles spring up and the birds come to visit.  It was not uncommon to see an Osprey sitting beside the highway on my way to work and the Sandhill Cranes would cross the road slowly, purposely and with a look that said, “You are in my environment now”.  Gradually I found places to photograph and learn about the birds.

The Great Blue Heron is a beautifully colored bird and it is almost impossible to take a bad photograph of a great blue.  The Egret is another story.  Not only is it difficult to take a photograph of a white bird, but they are more afraid of people.  Many times I stopped along the side of the road to get that perfect shot but no matter how quietly I approached Egrets always flew.  The Sandhill Cranes were particularly frustrating.  They would stand quietly while I set up the camera, even taking the occasional slightly uninterested glance at me.  And then just as I got ready to press the shutter, they would not fly, they would simply move slightly out of range.

Next I set my sights on the Everglades.  My first sight of the Everglades was a disappointment.  As with most of Florida, the Everglades requires study to discover the beauty.  My first trip to the Everglades was prior to my move to Florida.  I envisioned the Everglades as one big swamp.  To me a swamp was darkness and overhanging branches.  The openness was not something I expected.  It was vast, and to the naked eye, rather boring.  But I had longed to see it for so long.  Longed so much, that I convinced my husband to drive from Disney in Orlando all the way to the Everglades, not a short trip. Yet when we got there my main thought upon seeing it was “This is not at all what I expected”.  But I knew there was more there.

My next trip to the Everglades was with a guided day tour where I learned a lot about the glades but didn’t get any good photographs.  Note to any budding photographers out there, if you want to take photographs of a place do not take a guided tour.  There are actually people out there who can see something and appreciate it without taking a photograph of it, while driving by it even!  I spent a great deal of the tour, mentally shouting, STOP, that was a perfect photograph, why are you not stopping?  My next trip was a photo workshop and that was much more satisfying.  On that trip I took some of the photographs I still display today.

I’ve been to the Everglades many times since then.  It always awes and amazes me.  But you have to look.  Once cannot merely drive through the Everglades, stopping occasionally at a roadside view, and get any sense of the place.

I found that when you live in a hilly or mountainous area that you never really get the full effect of sunrise or sunset.  I understood when someone told me that if you miss the mountains in Virginia, look at the sky.  I have found plant life in Florida that inspires me, the Cypress that are hundreds or even thousands of years old, the Mangroves with their tangled aerial roots, the Tababoulia with its beautiful yellow flowers, and the Bougainvillea with its tumbling beauty and sharp thorns but nothing is as impressive as the skies.

I took many photographs.  I traveled all over Florida.  I found myself walking in the Everglades one day, tripod on my shoulder, and I recalled a movie I had seen recently where a man is visited by his eight year old self.  I thought that if my eight year old self came to visit me, she would think “Wow, this is cool”.  I did art shows.  I went from a trembling mass of nerves to confident with people.  I worked on myself.  I found forgiveness for my parents and kindness for the world around me.  I went to battle with demons and slew some and accepted some.  I lay in the sun and soaked up its warmth.  It was a good life.

And then one day I really started to miss the mountains and the change of seasons.  I play a little game online where you set up a farm and grow things and over Christmas they offered the option to make it look like it snowed.  To my horror, I found myself nostalgic.  For SNOW?!  And each time I visited Virginia it got harder and harder to leave.  I would be in a deep funk for several weeks after, made worse because I didn’t understand why I didn’t love Florida any more.

Or maybe I never did. Part of moving away to Florida was moving away from my past.  Sometimes one must step back to get a better view.  I was happy to get to Florida but it was more that I was happy to be away from Virginia.  I was happy to be away from the snow, from an unsatisfying job and from a tiny house that had no room for my dreams.  Now what I was away from was my daughter, my grandchildren, and the good memories.  I am stronger now and better for having been away.

I will miss Florida.  I just looked out in the back yard at the Sago Palm I planted that has gotten huge and the Robelline Palms that have also gotten huge.  I remember planting the first Robellini as a small plant and lovingly covering it when the freezes came.  And then one day I looked at it and realized it was taller than I was and I told it you are on your own.  I am tall now and can confront my own freezes.





Well I have been sucked into  Beware – I have spent every non-working, non-sleeping moment on it and I’m not even close to being done.  At least it is a quiet time for me now.  I don’t have a show until April and the new website is pretty much done.

I have found out some interesting things.  My father always told me that we came from England.  Apparently not.  Most of my relatives came from Germany and Switzerland which makes sense since everyone in my family pretty much settled in Pennsylvania except my little branch.  My father was in the Army and his last tour of duty was in Virginia and we stayed there.  If it wasn’t for that I would most likely be in Pennsylvania.  Nothing wrong with Pennsylvania, it’s quite pretty there.  Now I understand why shoofly pie is my favorite pie and why I like syrup on scrapple.

I found some interesting skeletons too.  When I was 32 my mother handed me a piece of paper that held the names of my nine (!) aunts and uncles that I had no clue existed.  I never understood why I had never met relatives from my mother’s side except one aunt who died when I was quite young.  Apparently while my grandmother was having children with my grandfather she was also having children with another guy.  So I also have three half aunts and uncles.  Is that why my mother stopped having anything to do with her family?  I’ll never know.  Kind of sad that I have an entire branch of my family in Pennsylvania that I know very little about.  If you are in Spring Mills, PA I am probably related to you.

I also found out that Clif is related to the king and queen of Poland back in the 1400s and has an ancestor buried at Jamestown.

Anyway, enough of that.  All the cats are doing well.  Nosey has finally claimed the cat house that I put out a few years back and lets me touch his nose now and then.  Tank is being his usual bratty self, the kittens (2 years old now) still chase each other through the house at night.  Gracie still rules with an iron paw and Sarge is his usual laid back self.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!