Next time, I'm going to make somebody

skip out on work and take me to the midnight showing. But not this year -



which does not mean I am not uber excited Re: the new Harry Potter movie. (Wanna make something of it?)

Image via momentarily

If only I could put it in my pocket

I can think of nothing worth noting about my day. It has been filled with a whole lot of nothing much besides

• sunlight carrying the slight breeze through the windows,

• corn on the cob and steak on the grill,

• the common bird calls mixing with the voices of the kids across the street

A quiet Sunday, exemplified.

Next Sunday, we shall have company aplenty, for it is my grandmother's 92nd birthday. And I know that there will be a moment - between all the cousins playing catch up, and the baby-hogs vying for baby-time, and the much longed for camaraderie of family - when I long for just a little bit of today's peace and quiet.

Because they make a good point about Dumbledore

who should have just TOLD Harry that Voldemort could read his thoughts instead of hiding from him for an entire school year... Check out this article, about lazy wizards. The highlight:

Gargamel is a hermit "wizard" who is the Smurfs' main antagonist. At various times he either wants to capture the Smurfs and use them as part of a potion that creates gold, or he wants to eat them. The Smurfs are a versatile resource for Gargamel.

The case against him:
If successful wizarding were baseball, Gargamel would be the White Sox. His only goal in life is to capture the Smurfs and since all Smurfs are roughly the size of squirrels and subsist almost entirely on a diet of Smurfberries, one would conclude that a basic knowledge of mousetraps would do the trick.

Instead, Gargamel, with the entire arsenal of potions from the wizarding world at his disposal, launches infuriatingly complicated Rube Goldbergian magical schemes, and completely fails every single time.

Being outsmarted by a Smurf is like being outsmarted by one of your shoes. The Smurfs each fulfill a specific function in their little communist utopia, such as being bashful, vain or gay. Take them out of that element and they have no idea how to cope outside of screaming their blue heads off to get Papa Smurf to rescue them. The fact that Papa Smurf usually does rescue them by using his own magical powers means that Papa Smurf is actually a far greater wizard than Gargamel. By extension this probably also means that one of your shoes is likely a far greater wizard than Gargamel.

From The 7 Most Powerful Wizards Too Lazy To Use Their Powers

Must be making plans for HP 6 soon... am VERY excited.

"That's the way to catch a beau..."

That's from More New Math. Let me just add that NTE's Insomnia = The Pull-out Couch of Death (TM) + YouTube Videos of Haley Mills Movies = Having "PollyaANNNAAAA" or the totally anti feminist lyrics from Femininity "You must walk feminine, talk feminine, smile and beguile feminine ... Hide the real you" in your head all freaking day long.


Just in case you were wondering what "every girl should know"



You're welcome. (bangs head against desk) Go play Jeopardy, boost your IQ.

"Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts."

Arnold Bennett

Tell me about it. Feeling beat tonight, I'll be back tomorrow.

Check out this amazing discussion by Aimee Mullins about the intersection of disability and design. Highlight:

So people society once considered disabled can now become the architects of their own identities and indeed continue to change those identities by designing their bodies from a place of empowerment.

Who likes parenthesis?

I hope it's you, because this post is full of 'em.

Only Lil Girl showed up today, and she showed up in her best mood. We watched thunderclouds roll through and looked for rainbows when they were gone. (But we didn't find any) We ate all sorts of cheese based meals (mac and cheese, grilled cheese) with very little nutritional value whatsoever and pre-meal whining was at minimum.(Fruit? Never heard of it. And sadly, there were no green beans at hand, so vegetables were also a no go.) We watched half of Toy Story 2 and she fell asleep during the first song of our 'quiet music' playlist. (With a pillow over her face: safety is our call word around here.) (I didn't leave it on, don't worry. But, seriously, who falls asleep like that?) My camera stopped working, but I'm hoping(/pretending) that it's just that the batteries were too low, so I'm charging them all again. (Two pairs of batteries, and the screen was still shutting off... I can NOT afford to buy a camera right now, so let's all say a little chant that it was just the batteries.) I watched 3 minutes of the Michael Jackson coverage and bawled, and was quite glad to miss out on the rest of it. (Blah. I do not know why people cannot understand that if somebody in your family dies, you would like to be left the hell alone... the only part I saw was that little girl crying, and HOW can anybody not be touched by that?) My brother picked up his child before the sun set (for the first time in over a month) and she was ready to go when he got here. And now I am writing to all of you, getting ready for Jeopardy (Remind me to finish that post about Grandmother's house and Jeopardy, so that you can understand how important that is), and being glad that my heating pad is working again (yesterday it decided to not work. At all.)

How did your day go?

Snuggle time

One of the best things about the time I am spending here at my Grandmother's house is that Tuesdays and Thursdays are still my days to watch my little munchkins. Which means that the kids have been getting to spend a lot more time getting to know Grandmother, UJ, and Sister K.

As a result, Youngest Nephew is now aware that UJ is an excellent baseball coach and that Grandmother's favorite soda is cream soda, and that her family used to make their own root beer in the cellar every summer when she was a kid (80 odd years ago). Lil Girl knows that Sister K's room is an unmitigated disaster area, that she can con UJ into taking her up to the park if she asks in just the right way, and - perhaps the most universal truth in our family - that a grandmother's lap and a rocking chair is the most comforting thing in the world. (Or, in this case, a great-grandmother's lap.)



Starting the week off on the right foot, with this Best Shot. Don't forget to visit Tracey for other fabulous shots!

Am spending time in hiding,

considering that some people are in very mad moods. Is it kind of sad that my response is to want to read them Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Maybe next time.

Piddle ...

I'm listening to the traffic that follows the 4th of July spectacular here - perhaps you saw my across the river neighbors on the television? - and am glad to have spent this fourth here, at Grandmother's house. I know I've done (more than) my share of complaining about the fact that I am still here (66 days and counting), but that's only because I long for home. My bed, my things, my complete ability to not get dressed for 37 days in a row if I so choose home. The company here is splendid, overall, though, and I'll admit I may just have been in the place I needed to be tonight.

Because, since I've been sick, the 4th of July was something I did with Nana. With the rest of my family moving off to one rooftop or another to try to catch the best view of the fireworks, Nana and I would watch the Pops, mock the line dancers who couldn't hold the beat (could FIND the beat), and shake our heads at the fact that people needed karaoke words for Yankee Doodle Dandy. She would walk away in disgust as acts like Aerosmith "paraded around like pansies" or Big & Rich "screwed up even the Star Spangled Banner". I would tune her out or in, accordingly, waiting till she came back from her latest cigarette to tell her about the doofus with a really tall Uncle Sam hat. And she'd be settled in with her last hot cup of tea by the time the fireworks started, and she - who didn't really understand the point of special effects in movies or anything like that - would be captivated, would gasp and point out her favorites like any member of the crowd. It was something she didn't really enjoy in person ("too much smoke, people & bother," she'd say), but on TV, it made her face light up. It came back to me, all in a wave tonight, that she's not just at home watching without me, that I won't get to watch them with her again. And so, the tears then, and now, as I sit listening to the honking that she would've cursed, because it's still hard to know that.

Watching tonight with Grandmother & UJ was different - UJ was pissed at the people in the street who let their dog run loose, for one thing and so it was a bit tenser than usual - but it was good. It was happy. Grandmother didn't let the fact that she's not a singer stop her from singing along to the patriotic music (like I do), and she appreciated each extra sparkle and twinkle that the fireworks could provide, each time a little painted face came up on the big screen. It was good for me, and I think, good for them (I guess they don't usually watch: which - sacrilege!) I heard the stories of when they used to go to the fireworks, of when Arthur Fiedlder was leading the Pops, of the time my eldest cousin pouted all the way back to the car (because my uncle made them leave early to beat the traffic - I don't get that either).

I miss Nana - all the time, every day - but today was a little bit easier because I was here.

But here's a movie I introduced my Revolutionary-War-Lovin', 5th-Grade-Teaching Nana too, and a song, just for her.

Did you ever see that movie...?

In other news, Yes, I am still at Grandmother's. No, I do not want to talk about it right now. Except to say - Did you ever see The Money Pit? It was always one of my Dad's favorite movies, and anything that made my dad laugh hard enough to cry was in frequent viewing rotation in our house.

It's about a couple who buy their "dream house" and how the house then crumbles around down around them, making the couple crazy bit by plastered bit. It's a hilarious movie, if only because Tom Hanks does that little barking laugh thing that he does, and I find that pretty dang funny. Here's the laugh:




Anyways, during the movie, there's a running gag: each of the workmen (contractors, plumbers, electricians) who come to work on the house all promise that their work will be completed in "two weeks". Months pass, work continues, and yet, always the reply is "two weeks." The "two weeks" quote became one of our family sayings, whatever we'd all say when somebody asks us how long what we're doing is going to take and we really have no frickin idea. It's really come around to bite me on the ass though, this time. Because I've been hearing "this weekend" for the past 2 months. So "this weekend" is really just code for "two weeks". It's not as funny when it's true.

But the scene where Walter (Tom Hanks' character) is stuck in the rug? Always funny. Always. (Sorry, the only clip I could find was of very poor quality.)

Bits and pieces

Here are some (very) random words/phrases/quotes from things I've been reading lately:

• "People induce labor by various means including: breast stimulation, sexual intercourse, herbs, vaginal lubrication, abdominal manipulation, hot bricks pressed on the abdomen, friends beating and kicking the abdomen, hanging the mother from a tree and community members pulling on the abdomen, gagging the mother so she will spasm, slapping and yelling at the mother, episiotomy, and stretching the vagina." Gulp. from a very interesting post on the myths of childbirth

• "In order to prevent the resurgence of Nazism, Holocaust denial is illegal in a number of European countries." I think that's pretty cool, even if it does rub my liberal, American, free speech loving soul the wrong way. From wikipedia

• "Human beings are hardwired to see patterns. Seeing links and connections between various stimuli is a big part of how people navigate complex environments. Back in the earlier days of our evolution, it helped us to hunt and find food; today it helps us deal with people, keep track of large amounts of information and figure out just what the fuck is happening on Lost." Seriously: WTH is up with Lost? I didn't see the last 3 or 4 episodes, but even so, I don't think they'll be helpful. Am very much looking forward to the final 18 hours of this show. I will need everysingleminute of those 18 hours to be explanatory, but that's ok. From Cracked

• "And I've learnt not to show impatience, never to be grumpy. Before, as a "standing" person, my occasional bad mood was tolerated: now I must exhibit unfailing cheer, grace and humility. We wheeled citizens had better appreciate others' Samaritan actions, lest our ingratitude causes offence!" Nodding Head. From standing up for the seated
  

• "As someone living with fibromyalgia, when faced with articles and attitudes like these, I find myself at odds between the desire to be a peaceful sort and the urge to take a tire iron to the denier, yelling as I work them over, “IT’S OKAY! IT’S NOT REAL!” Amen and Hallelujah! Why didn't I ever think of that? From the comments on this awesome post about the freaking ridiculous Salon article that said it was attacking Big Pharma, but was, in reality, attacking FM patients.
  
  

15 books

I haven't been tagged, but I rarely am, so I have to hijack other people's memes. Here's one I've seen floating around for a while - 15 books.

“Don’t take too long to think about it. List 15 books you’ve read that will always stick with you. Choose the first fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Tag 15 friends, including me.”

In no order:

1. It by Stephen King. One of my top 5 books of all time. I read it when I was the same age as the kids in the book, and the idea that kids had power was so shocking to me. Welcome, but shocking. And it always makes me think about how people underestimate children, and how we think of the children we know in relation to our own lives, sometimes forgetting that they have lives of their own. Plus, it has the scariest clown ever.

2. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. I first read this book as one of those cassette tapes that were popular in the 80's: "you can read along with me in your book" and I can not overstate how much I wanted to be one of the March sisters. When Amy burned Jo's book, I wanted to jump into the pages of the book and tear her hair out. But when she fell into the ice a few pages later, and I heard the sharp crack of it - I gasped and nearly cried, thinking of Jo and Teddy on the edge of the ice, trying to pull her up. Of course, I always do wind up crying whenever I read it, but that is the reason this book lives in the freezer.

3.Century by IDK. I have never seen this book anywhere besides my Nana's bookcase, and somewhere along the line, that got misplaced (or taken), so I don't know who wrote it. I can also barely remember the plot. What I do remember is that it was in a shelf of books that I was "too young for," and that meant I had to do whatever I could to get to it. It had a shiny gold cover, and was, in reality one of those really horrid romance novels that gives people the impression that the romance genre is a wasteland, but oh how I wanted to read it. I would sneak little snippets of it while in the sunpalor by myself, and, being 9, was shocked that there were NAKED people doing NAKED things in it. I wasn't interested in any of that then, but knowing that I wasn't supposed to be reading it gave it all an extra thrill.

4. Twillight by Stephanie Meyer. Because there's no way that this book is good - it's not written well, it doesn't have an original plot or unforgettable characters, and you spend most of the book (hell, the series) wanting to help Bella grow a spine for god's sake, and still it is Full Of Crack. Addictive as hell, and almost as stigmatizing. Plus, it's brought 2 of my sisters back to the realization that reading is not just a waste of time, but rather, an enjoyable waste of time. ;)

5. The Monster at the End of this Book by Jon Stone. One of the first books I learned to read on my own. One of the first books Youngest Nephew could read on his own. And a perfect example of if you want kids to read, to learn that reading is fun, to LOVE it like you do, you have to put on a show.

6. Jewels of the Sun by Nora Roberts. Made me a Noraholic, an ADWOFF-er, and made Nora, and her alter ego JD Robb, an auto buy for me. Always.

7. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. Because Oh My Sweet Jesus, why? Why does a book so boring and bland get to be required reading? This was almost an entire semester's worth of work my sophomore year in high school, and it showed me why other people thought reading was boring. Because there isn't a single moment of this book that I didn't read hoping against hope that some axe murderer would come in from all that snow and just kill everybody.

8. By The Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Because between this book and the one before it, Mary had gone blind (Spoiler Alert, sorry). She had scarlet fever and all in the previous book, but everybody had been fine, dealing with it, whatever. And then I opened up the next book, and Bam! Blind. WTF? It was very upsetting, and I cried for a good hour.

9. Reviving Ophelia by Mary Pipher. Because she was talking about me. And everybody I ever knew. This idea that girls get, somewhere along the line, that they have to pretend to be what they're not, that they can only exist within the narrow confines of the place society has marked out for them was so specific, it seemed as if she were writing about my life. I was a college freshman when I read it, who didn't have any of the terminology about gender roles and patriarchy and all of that, but once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it. And that's powerful. (Also under this category, books on the second shift, on disability, on any of the sociological -isms we see everyday; on consumerism, on ecology, on the green movement and my role in it.)

10. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling. Because I read it with my sister at my side, all in one big gulp, the day it came out. Because I had to put the book down more than once to cry properly. Because the next HP movie comes out in like a week and a half, and I MUST see it. Because HP and his gang of gawky teenage wizards have given me more enjoyment in the past decade than any other cast of characters I can name.

11. Lies my teacher told me by James Loewen. Because WTH with all the lying? A key element in my evolution into a critical reader. And thinker.

12. The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kozinski. Because it was a truly terrifying, ick-filled, horror of a read. I felt dirty by the time I finished it. I still kind of do.

13. Illness as Metaphor by Susan Sontag. Because, again, she was writing about me. And how society sees me, and tries to make me see myself. And because I finally felt like I wasn't the only person who thought that society was full of crap when it came to people like me.

14. Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein. Because "I cannot go to school today said little Peggy Anne McKay. I have the measles and the mumps, a gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, I'm going blind in my right eye..." Sick. The first poem I ever memorized, and, when I was 7, the best poem ever. "What? What's that? What's that you say? You say today is Saturday? G'bye I'm going out to play!"

15. All I Really Needed To Know I Learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum. Because it's totally true. Observe: "

"Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life - learn some and think some
and draw and paint and sing and dance and play
and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic,
hold hands, and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.
Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup:
The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody
really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even
the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die.
So do we.
And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books
and the first word you learned - the biggest
word of all - LOOK…"

Consider yourself tagged - please play along if you're a book nut like I am. And tell me here, if you do, because I'd love to see your 15.

Bring on the new month

Ok, so June - as far as this blog goes - was pretty much filled with suck. I tried a lot, but accomplished very little. (Very little meaning things like, oh, still having your freaking CHRISTMAS banner up the top there, with it's little snowflakes and such. It is such a good thing I do not have my own house - I would be the annoying neighbors who never take down their twinkle lights.)

We all know the reasons - feeling like shit, still being at my grandmother's house, a full 2 months after everyone else has moved into the house that I'm actually supposed to be living at (I do not say 'my' house, because it in noway feels like 'my' house), just general chaos and craziness and blah feeling - so I'm not going to go over them again right now, but I kind of just decided that I'm going to attempt another NaBloPoMo type thing, and try to post something everysingleday for the month of July.

The reasons being that I tend to feel less like crap if I've taken the time out of my day to say something to y'all - even if that something is just a quick "Hey: feeling like crap, so no real post today" type of post. Plus I've got a backlog of pictures and good quotes, and random things from around the webiverse, so I can always post some of those... it's about taking the time, I think.

So, there it is, in blue and white (are my words still blue? Holy jebus I need to get crackin on a new template.): come back tomorrow for something new.

Even if it's just a hello.

For those of us who can't shut our stupid brains off

Here's an image or two that might make particular sense to you:

via Quotebook


via i can read

And, just for a change of pace:


via icanhascheezeburger

:) Snap your way through the day, why don't cha?

A little bit on the whiny side, I'm sorry to say.

Every phone call with my mother ends the same way now: with her telling me about the work that's still not done, and me trying to think of something to say that isn't twisted and harsh and bitter.

I don't like it, and I know it's not her fault that things are moving so slowly, and I know that I am lucky to have a place to be that is safe and warm and where I am loved and I know it's just stupid & useless to feel sorry for myself, but I do.

I feel like I don't have a place.

I just don't belong anywhere -

As much as I love it here, and spending time with my grandmother and sister and uncle is amazing and wonderful and great;

As much as I know that Mum and Dad are working and painting and scraping and getting estimates 4 days out of the week;

As much as I know that this is all temporary and eventually, there'll be a house I can get in and out of, with a brand new cozy bed I just paid a lot of money for, and a bathtub I can take showers in and a kitchen I can cook in and a room where I can let the kids just play and not have to worry about them breaking something that's 115 years old or waking somebody up from a much needed nap.

As much as all that is true, right now?

At this moment?

I feel ...like those days are still too far away.

like I've overstayed my welcome, no matter what they say

like nobody who's supposed to care, actually cares enough to do the things that I can't do for myself. Or to find out how I'm doing, or to even think that I might be upset by the way things are playing out.

And, wow, am I upset.
I'm angry, even.
I'm shocked at how angry I am - that people can't be trusted to do even the simplest things, that time keeps passing, that I'm so useless, that I keep getting worse, that nobody seems to be worried besides me. I'm angry at myself, and I'm angry at just about everybody else.

Not all the time, not even most of the time... but today. Today I am.

I know it's because I'm feeling so much worse, and because the longer I stay here the harder it gets to pretend I'm still ok, and because the harder it is to pretend, the more I cause the people here to worry, or to go out of their way, and the more I feel like a big fat burden.

And also? Because I am just so sick of pretending.

I'm at the point where I can't hide the fact that I get tired halfway through making a sandwich and have to lay down for 3 hours. At the point where wearing a bra 24 hours a day - for modesty's sake - is no longer an option (hell, most days, it's not even an option to put it on at all) and I almost don't even care that they know I haven't taken a shower in almost 2 weeks. At the point where they can see that I save every last drop of energy for those two days when the Lil Girl (&/or her big brother) is here, and the rest of the time recuperating.

It's all the little stuff that doesn't matter when I'm at home, that matters big time here. And it only matters because I let it: I know that my grandmother doesn't think any less of me because I have greasy hair, or that my uncle is going to be thinking I'm lazy because I just can't clean up those dishes I left in the sink.

But I'm not without pride. I don't like people, even the people closest to me, to know how much I can't do, to see how much help I need to make it through the day. It's not a choice, though, when I'm staying here. It feels like all of my flaws, all of my faults and failures, are on display, all day, everyday.

And even though this rant is full of angst and all 'poor me', I know it'll pass soon. I'm already embarrassed that I even wrote it, because reading it back for errors makes me sound petty and like I don't appreciate all I have. I do. I really do.

But I'm not going to pretend it never happened, I'm not going to keep on pretending, at least here, that I'm not bothered by the fact that I still have no home. Or the fact that the majority (not all, but most) of my siblings have only contacted me in the past two months when they needed me to do something for them, and then promptly forgot that I exist. Or the fact that, at 30 years old, I have to constantly eat food I don't like because I can't just fix my own or watch the news b/c if I don't stay in the living room till 11:00, I'll cause people to worry.

I'm going to give myself this space to not have to bite my tongue or to not have to use my "I'm totally fine and can socialize like a normal person" voice.

And then I'm going to take a deep breath and open the door again, and try to convince my uncle that he'd really just like to order a pizza tonight.

As always, thanks for listening.

My Best Shot

Here's Lil Girl & Sister K practicing on the piano.

If there is a 3 year old in your life who has access to a piano, then you know that practicing actually means "making as much noise as humanly possible," and so you can appreciate the patience of SisterK appropriately.

Happy Monday, all. Now head on over and check out some more Best Shots.

If I could explain it to anybody,

it'd be you.

But I can't. I just don't have the words. All I have are all the things I want to say, and no words that make sense when I say them. I'll try again later. Just know I'm thinking about y'all. Hoping your day is going along in as positive a way as possible. Be back soon.

As usual

Sorry about that last post, peoples - I have no idea why the video didn't post, and no energy to try to fix it right now. I will try to get to it by the end of the week, though: how to feel stupid and lose blog audience - attempt to upload video for the first time, do not complete (even though blogger never told you it didn't upload), and then disappear for days at a time. Good work.

(Dope slap)

I have no other news right now, but can post a few of my flickr pictures as penance - they are already edited, so all it requires is that I click the buttons: easy peasy, hopefully.

Let's see what I've got for you -
Here's the newest member of our family, she's about 2 months old now. She's my cousin's baby, which I can never remember if that makes us 1st cousins once removed or 2nd cousins... I'll have to look it up (again). She's baby Fi -


Youngest Nephew on the phone with SisterK, who was in San Francisco on a trip. He was warning her not to change her allegiance to the Red Sox just because she was in California. I was trying to make his freckles pop in the picture, with varying degrees of success.


Lil Girl & SisterK, after Lil Girl realized that she was in the Dora cartoon I bought her for her birthday - I think she likes the idea:




Lastly, these are the pillows at the hotel I go to to take my showers. It's some advice I could take as well as give:

More pictures of me in one post

than you've seen in the 4 years of this blog put together.

Today is my 30th birthday, and I'm having a pretty good day. I'm ignoring my pain as much as possible, heading to the hotel to take a hot shower, and sitting on the front porch with my grandmother, feeling the cool breeze and listening to the life stories of people I wish I'd known (or known better). As a rule, I don't particularly like pictures of me, and I've been stingy when it comes to posting them here, I know. But I'm in the mood to look back and to look forward, and I thought this would be a nice way to do that.

You don't have to watch the 3 minutes or so of pictures from my life: I'll give you the Cliff Notes version if you'd like. For all my challenges and issues, through all the disappointments and losses, I've still been one lucky lady. I have a lot of people in my life who love me, who I'm lucky enough to love, and who've made my life a real experience. It's never been easy (see: name of blog). It probably never will be. But, for today, all I can be is grateful. (It's too bad only one person in any of these pictures will read this, but I'll try to tell the rest of them in person, if I can.)

Have a great weekend, everybody: I'm going to try for a computer free weekend myself, but we'll see how I'm feeling tomorrow.