Author: Karen

This and that and out and about

Just when we thought 2020 couldn’t get any more bizarre……

I need to make this clear before I go any further… I don’t wish harm or illness on anyone, ever.  That being said… it’s no surprise that the POTUS contracted Covid, is it?   As well as almost half his staff and a family member or two.  Not to mention the myriads we don’t know about who attended his maskless rallies in recent months and the myriads of dead (over 200,000 now and counting)  because he chose to treat the whole thing as a  “Democratic Hoax” in the initial, crucial first months.  He has no one to blame but his own arrogance, ignorance, greed.  It’s mind boggling.  A day ago I thought to myself….. perhaps… this experience will humble him some and he will come out of it with more empathy and smarts for the rest of us moving forward.    No… yesterday’s photo-op in a sealed car where he is again putting his secret servicemen at risk proved otherwise.  When he was initially diagnosed he also attended an event knowing he tested positive.. without notifying anyone until he was back at the WH.     He is so unfit for the position he holds.. on so many levels.   There are no excuses worthy of keeping him there.  I implore anyone reading this.. PLEASE.. vote him out in November.  Please.

The debate?  What a sh*t show.  What a shame.  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

My son’s house just over the hill is almost complete – move-in day is just two weeks away and I am so excited for them.  As with my daughter’s home next door, the upstairs will remain unfinished for now, an effort to keep the mortgage down, expenses manageable.  When either start a family of their own,  the second floors will be finished.  When we bought This Old House and renovated her beginning in 2009, this was exactly what we had envisioned for the property – Being in the home building business, my husband has a good eye for property potential and I have been in love with this old house (“Saving Grace ” or Gracie as I call her) since my teen years.   We are so very lucky to have been able to acquire her and bring her back to life, and turn this farm into a family compound.  That both of my children are as enthusiastic about this farm as we are is more than just icing on the cake.

M  & M… at the granite/marble warehouse picking out counter granite…

Installed last week, and it is beautiful…  She is also an “M”… when she saw the kitchen almost finished she said… I am not worthy of this kitchen!… but she absolutely is, in spades.  Not only has she worked hard to pursue a career in the optics field, she is already a good cook as well.  I couldn’t be happier for my son, who has chosen a great partner to share life with.  More announcements on that front in the near future.

Meanwhile… I continue to find respite on this farm, my Saving Grace.  The GoatGirlz, Star and Bella are thriving here.  We are all enamored with these two silly girls and their calls to us whenever they spot us nearby.

Leah has become very comfortable with being a “home” horse instead of a show horse…  and we’re thinking we aren’t going to return to the show world in the near future.  The Sh*t Show is still out there.

On the health front, I have lost a solid 10 pounds in the last month, the next ten will be harder.  My relationship with food is complicated.  I love it, I love to make it for myself and especially for others, it is my anxiety and boredom reliever and has been for my entire life.  Bad habits are hard to break!   But.. with less sugar and carbs in my diet, I am feeling better overall – the fibromyalgia pain is less.    Onward…

We have not gotten as much use out of our little seaside cottage this year, too much going on around the farm and work, and of course not having the bigger gatherings there  due to Covid concerns.  Stella continues to be a refuge regardless and next year we’ll spend more time there for sure.

I’ve been trying to instill this next thought in my husband’s mind for 32 years now.  All work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy.  It actually makes him a very grumpy, overworked overtired boy.  Last weekend I did manage to get him to take a day trip to one of his favorite destinations, Vermont… and he actually smiled for a while and took a few deep breaths.  We came home with apples, cider and a pie from the Scotts Farms Orchard in Dummerston and cheese from the Grafton Cheese Factory – it was a very good day.  The colors are not quite peak here in New England, and after the recent tropical storm, here near the shoreline there are a lot of BROWN trees from the sea salt-stained winds.

Wishing you all good health and the happiness to be found in the places we call home, the family we love and the time we make for ourselves – it’s so important.

Till soon –

 

 

 

Like Gold

Here in CT, not much is more joy inducing to a horse woman than seeing the Holloway Hay Truck parked in front of your barn.  The Holloway  Family has been delivering their signature awesome Upstate New York hay to new England farms for many years.  We used to get a delivery once yearly, but when we moved to This Old House (Gracie as I fondly call her) we had hay fields of our own and the Mr. wanted to capitalize on that to save money.  Well, sounds good in theory, and we’ve been applying that theory for years now – but truth is, hay is harder to grow than you’d think, and not cheap.  Weather is factor, good machinery is important, knowledge and application of seed and fertilizer, etc.etc.  Good drying time and ventilation when stored is also important.

Also, cow grade hay and horse grade hay are two different animals, too.  What we’ve been growing is mostly cow grade – stalky, not enough grasses, timothy too gone-to-seed by the time we bale it.  So.. the cow farmer up the road who helps us with the haying gets most of it.   The rest isn’t enough for me to keep my guys in hay all year, so this year we ordered a full load from my favorite, Holloway farms –   and I now have 700 bales of  GOLD in our lofts.  It’s a beautiful thing.  You’d be amazed at how giddy a girl can be over a loft full of good hay that will last a whole year or more.

There are two cuttings of hay in this load – first cut on the bottom, the lighter colored, and second cut on top – considered the prized hay, tending to be more grassy.  Both are good feed hay, regardless.  A hay field in a good weather season can get two cuttings, one in June, the next in September-ish.

Fall has officially arrived! Do you decorate for the seasons?  As soon as the little pumpkins come out I’m all over it…. my daughter and I have already made our first trip of the season to Scott’s farm down the road  –

On the health goals front – using the SlimNation.com apps and menu plan, I’ve lost almost 10 pounds in 3 1/2 weeks – about 15 – 18 to go.  Feeling better, sleeping better, better attitude over all.   Going into the holidays will be interesting and a struggle with the diet because I love to eat, and cook and bake.  But I’m determined to keep it up, because feeling better is the only way to be if you can help it.  We can certainly control what we put in our mouth, right?   Lord help me please.  🙂

Till soon  friends – 

 

 

What will you dwell on

A wise person once told me… what we dwell on is who we become. I’d like to think most of us are not the noise pollution we are being fed by those who’s motives are not anchored in and for the greater good. Aren’t we all soul-weary from the onslaught?

Another wise person reminded me how important it is not to get caught up in that swill. We’re only going through this way once – be kind to yourself, be kind to others, look for the good, respect and enjoy our vast diversity, support your causes, don’t contribute to the divides, seek truth, have compassion, seek joy – it’s especially abundant in the little things. If something in your life is really dragging you down, let it go. Lift each other💕 I’m starting this day with a renewed appreciation for all that is good and I’ll nurture it where I can .

Some inspiration for today –

The common thread

We can’t erase the evil that careened into our country on this day 19 years ago. We can’t bring back the dead, those who were unaware of the peril they would face, and those who charged into that mass inferno selflessly to do what they signed up to do- save lives. Some survived the heroic effort, many did not- Arthur Barry, Thomas Hannafin, boys from my ‘hood who grew up to be men of the FDNY, I’ll always say your name in prayer on this day , I’ll never forget your sacrifices, your heroic efforts.

If you can even think it of that horrible event, one thing came out of it I wish had stayed with us all- our love for our country, our caring and respect and kindness toward each other as we shared a common thread of grieving our dead, loving our country, condemning the rage filled hate in the hearts of those who would attack us, picking up the pieces, together , Unity, flags displayed proudly, so many flags. Compassion. Resolve. It was a beautiful thing that rose from the ugly twisted steel, the scars on our land, the ashes.

For ourselves and the sake of those who can’t be here because of the events of that awful day- let it have taught us something. Let us remember, and find that common thread again.

🇺🇸❤️

Dear September…

….you’d  better come in here acting like  you’ve got some sense. 

Boy, could the headlines be any more of a sh*t show? Actually I shouldn’t even tempt it.   This post was originally (like 20 minutes ago) a political post.  But I’m so tired of my own damned outrage at the insanity I deleted the whole thing.   So here you go… a little lightness I need as much as anyone.

The goatgirlz!!  Oh, the joy they bring.  Star and Bella are like two toddlers we’ve adopted – they talk to us whenever we’re outside, even if we’re off in the distance.  If we’re sitting among them they climb all over us, and they love to chase my son around the paddock.   Goats love stuff to climb on – so our girlies got a picnic table we had up at the firepit that was getting a little dodgy, and they love their new perch.

 

Have you picked up any new hobbies or nurtured old ones during the pandemic?  I’ve picked up painting again and have found it to be very therapeutic .  I’m not a schooled artist and my paintings are a bit primitive, but I have learned a few tricks as I go along and while practice will never make me perfect, it has helped me get a better result when I paint.  These two I am very happy with – they were so much fun.  The first is a fall scene in Woodstock, Vermont – Sleepy Hollow Farm.  I added my son’s cat to it after this picture was taken, as this is a gift for his new home, soon to be completed… and I call it Lily in the leaves.   I really should go upstairs and snap a new picture but I’m lazy today, so you get the leaves without lily.

I just completed this one  below- using a photo I took of a wave on South Beach , Martha’s Vineyard.  Oh, how I have missed my favorite island this summer.  Hopefully by next year  travel will be a safe option again.

My vegetable garden is pretty much spent …. and for the 10th year in a row, our apple orchard produced zero apples – we’ve definitely done something wrong up there on the hill with the planting of those trees… but the raspberry and blueberry bushes provided bags and bags of frozen berries in my freezer for all kinds of baking and smoothies and cereal, etc. as the year rolls on.  I also have sauce in the freezer from the tomatoes we harvested.  It was just a -meh  type garden year.

Down at the shore cottage things are looking a little brown after a freak storm battered the community, flipping boats on their moorings, tumbling trees, battering foliage and turning it a scorched brown.  I’ve done some kayaking, mom has spent a few lovely weeks there and we all have frequented it for meals on occasion, but we did not get as much use out of it as previous years, mainly because of high heat and humidity and poor weather in general.

Here’s an awesome recipe I’ll share late in the season, but it is one of my favorites and because nowadays you can get just about anything any time of the year, you can probably make this all year long.   Whoever thought of throwing blueberries and corn into a salad together and then that honey lime dressing?  I thank them profusely for the gift of it.

My son’s house is coming along,  tentative move in date is October 15th –  his soon to be fiance’s birthday!   (yes, that’s happening soon! shhhh…. )

I am so happy for my son, for our whole family… because this lovely young woman has become a much loved member of our family in the six years they have dated.  Seeing them build the future together is such a joy.   They guide each other through thick and thin, have aided each other in building their careers, and they are strength to each other’s weaknesses,  bringing out the best in each other.  It’s a beautiful thing.

Mom with her favorite grandson, on his side porch

As for me, I have started a new diet plan – day five and I’m down four pounds.  I’m finding it totally do-able. I’m not hungry, I’m eating healthy, and the weight is slowly coming off.  The weight loss will slow, for that was probably mostly water weight – but I am finding this plan is excellent – doable, healthy eating.  I shop for the groceries and cook the meals, the meal plan and grocery listed are provided by the founder of the program. He’s traveled nationwide with his program and his clients span the globe, but he happens to live right here in town and has helped many of my neighbors, how cool is that!?  Here’s my before picture – 27 pounds to lose at day 1, down 4 already.  Believe me, this picture does not really show -all the fat -.   I’ll keep you posted on this, but if you’re looking for a program yourself and others have failed you (like me!) …. this..is working.

myslimnation.com – Robert Nevins

BEFORE……….

Stay tuned for the progress…..

And here are a few funnies for this strange, strange year….

Ah… that’s much better than the miserable political post I had intended.  Stay safe and sane, all –

Till soon –     

 

This and that on a rainy Sunday

 

Not very creative with the blog post title, ay?   But it is raining on this Sunday afternoon and I can justify sitting here to blog for a bit.

How have you all been, what’s it like in your neck o’the woods regarding pandemic living?  Here in New England, many are abiding the mask wearing in public tight quarters spaces.  Our town Hall is still only open by appointment and working via e-mail, phone, etc. for the most part.  Businesses are open with the restrictions many of you are familiar with.   Strange times.  I don’t yet feel comfortable sitting indoors in a restaurant, but we have dined at a few with outside patios.

I feel sorry for the teachers who are dealing with a mess of kids wearing masks (talk about awkward and frustrating) … and the fear some of them are feeling being so exposed if they’ve been very vigilant in their own social distancing.  And I feel sorry for the youth who have been so restricted in their socialization and education experience.  Parents are trying to assuage their fears, balance work and home and childcare needs, a nightmare, really.   Healthcare workers are now seeing the second wave, according to my friends in that field.  Every sniffle, every achy muscle day (for me that’s always, damned fibromyalgia) every scratchy sore throat brings a little thread of dread – is it the virus?  The bad kind, the mild kind or the no symptom kind? .. should I quarantine?   Should my husband and I be sleeping in separate beds?  (hey, sometimes that’s actually appealing anyway) Jeez I wore my mask, washed my hands,…. the anxiety of it all rolls on and on….      I no longer wipe down every single surface of every item I bring home from the grocery store though, as I did initially. That got old and tedious and felt like overkill. Washing the produce and washing my hands after handling feels like it’s enough.

We’ve been getting stuff done around the farm, my daughter and her significant other love their home nextdoor and it’s a joy to see them mowing lawn, weeding garden,  seeing the back door light go on at night while they let the dogs go potty.  And having my daughter nearby to share the barn chores again is a huge blessing.  My son is building his home on a lot at the back of our farm.   I may have mentioned it’s what we do for a living, home building, so this is one area where we -get stuff done- in rapid succession and at a more reasonable price than the typical homeowner.

A glimpse of my son’s home to be –  the red “barn” is his garage… the interior of the home being done slowly as materials, labor and bartering come along, the upstairs will remain unfinished until they become a young family.  The goal is to have as minimal a mortgage as possible (young couple and all that goes with it).

The joy these two goat girls give us are immeasurable. They are so friendly, talking to us all the time, from a distance and right up close.  Truly they are like two toddlers looking for our companionship and attention whenever we are outside.

The upcoming election – oh, man.  ( here’s where you skip the next two paragraphs if you still remain a 45 supporter, I’m not looking to insult anyone) – It has taken a toll on me, watching what I believe is the slow unraveling of America as we (I? I shouldn’t speak for you)  believed it to be.   I’m sad for us all.  I’m not a huge fan of B*den but I also recognize he’s not the slow sleezy do-nothing some would have you believe.  His running mate choice was his best option in my opinion. I look forward to watching K*mala debate the deadwood P*nce.  I am encouraged by some of my republican friends who are now saying there is no way in hell they would vote for Tr*mp again. One dyed in the wool republican neighbor said 45 is a trainwreck he’s ashamed he voted for and he will vote B*den come November.   I’m hoping there are many many more out there like him.  And yet…. there’s the uncertainty of what  will happen should he lose.  I doubt he’ll accept the results, no matter what they are, unless he is the winner.  And there are so many nuts threatening civil war, it’s frightening.  We are at a crossroads, this country… and I hope and pray and beg and plead for our collective soul to rise and rid itself of all the corruption, hate and fueled divide – especially the politicians, including the current P*TUS, who feed it relentlessly.   We the people deserve better.

Yesterday it was reported the P*TUS lost his younger brother, of which he was close.  I would imagine that is a very tough loss for him, and even more so now.  While I despise what he’s doing to our Country, I find I have empathy regardless.  Although the reason for his brother’s passing has not been revealed, I suspect he may have contracted COVID-19.  When he was first reported as ill was precisely the same time the P*TUS started wearing a mask occasionally in public.  I don’t know if we’ll ever know the truth of it.  After having dismissed initial warnings about the virus and playing it down repeatedly for a length of time, well.. the irony and indeed the tragedy of it is what comes to mind.  Of course, I’m speculating only.

Stella by the sea remains a respite for all of us.  We each use it together and separately when free time comes up.  It does my heart good to see the kids enjoy the kayaks, the  grilling of burgers and hotdogs and roasting of marshmallows in the firepit with their friends  (small safe gatherings are possible outdoors). I am loving my new kayak – the one that is discontinued and  I bought for a bargain price.  She glides through the water easily and while a little more tippy than my old steady Ruby, she’s fairly stable regardless and is more agile, lighter to carry.   I have yet to come up with a name for her that feels right- but every vessel must have a proper name…… suggestions welcome.  She’s red orange and yellow.

A photo I took while kayaking  – some of the Thimble Islands out in the distance..

We finally laid my father to rest thanks to the kindness of dear friends who have a lovely old  1976  Egg Harbor boat.   It was a small gathering, just my sister and I, my husband, my niece, and the lovely couple who took us up the Connecticut River  to the mouth of the river into LI Sound –  just beyond the lighthouse at Saybrook Point.   Since it’s not technically legal to dump ashes there , that’s not technically what we were doing .   There was the traditional burial Psalm 23 reading, we tossed white roses out into the waves along with what wasn’t really my father’s ashes in a biodegradable urn,   and  read the following   below as well…     my tears were for several reasons, but the most important one was the overwhelming knowledge in my heart that it was exactly as my father would want it – exactly where he wanted to be in the end.  I felt a sincere closure for him and for me, and that is such a blessing.

Wishing us all good health and peace of mind during these trying times –

 

Leaving us with a gem I hope we harvest and sow again and again

The last published words of John Lewis – sent two days before his passing…
Q&A: Representative John Lewis Will Never Lose Hope
     While my time here has now come to an end, I want you to know that in the last days and hours of my life you inspired me. You filled me with hope about the next chapter of the great American story when you used your power to make a difference in our society. Millions of people motivated simply by human compassion laid down the burdens of division. Around the country and the world you set aside race, class, age, language and nationality to demand respect for human dignity.
     That is why I had to visit Black Lives Matter Plaza in Washington, though I was admitted to the hospital the following day. I just had to see and feel it for myself that, after many years of silent witness, the truth is still marching on.
     Emmett Till was my George Floyd. He was my Rayshard Brooks, Sandra Bland and Breonna Taylor. He was 14 when he was killed, and I was only 15 years old at the time. I will never ever forget the moment when it became so clear that he could easily have been me. In those days, fear constrained us like an imaginary prison, and troubling thoughts of potential brutality committed for no understandable reason were the bars.
     Though I was surrounded by two loving parents, plenty of brothers, sisters and cousins, their love could not protect me from the unholy oppression waiting just outside that family circle. Unchecked, unrestrained violence and government-sanctioned terror had the power to turn a simple stroll to the store for some Skittles or an innocent morning jog down a lonesome country road into a nightmare. If we are to survive as one unified nation, we must discover what so readily takes root in our hearts that could rob Mother Emanuel Church in South Carolina of her brightest and best, shoot unwitting concertgoers in Las Vegas and choke to death the hopes and dreams of a gifted violinist like Elijah McClain.
     Like so many young people today, I was searching for a way out, or some might say a way in, and then I heard the voice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on an old radio. He was talking about the philosophy and discipline of nonviolence. He said we are all complicit when we tolerate injustice. He said it is not enough to say it will get better by and by. He said each of us has a moral obligation to stand up, speak up and speak out. When you see something that is not right, you must say something. You must do something. Democracy is not a state. It is an act, and each generation must do its part to help build what we called the Beloved Community, a nation and world society at peace with itself.
     Ordinary people with extraordinary vision can redeem the soul of America by getting in what I call good trouble, necessary trouble. Voting and participating in the democratic process are key. The vote is the most powerful nonviolent change agent you have in a democratic society. You must use it because it is not guaranteed. You can lose it.
You must also study and learn the lessons of history because humanity has been involved in this soul-wrenching, existential struggle for a very long time. People on every continent have stood in your shoes, though decades and centuries before you. The truth does not change, and that is why the answers worked out long ago can help you find solutions to the challenges of our time. Continue to build union between movements stretching across the globe because we must put away our willingness to profit from the exploitation of others.
     Though I may not be here with you, I urge you to answer the highest calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe. In my life I have done all I can to demonstrate that the way of peace, the way of love and nonviolence is the more excellent way. Now it is your turn to let freedom ring.
     When historians pick up their pens to write the story of the 21st century, let them say that it was your generation who laid down the heavy burdens of hate at last and that peace finally triumphed over violence, aggression and war.
     So I say to you, walk with the wind, brothers and sisters, and let the spirit of peace and the power of everlasting love be your guide.

The Hail Mary

Having read Mary Tr*mp’s book… his behaviors now are no surprise, nor is it fake news that his father covered his ass for many years. Fred Tr*mp was the real estate mastermind, amassing a HUGE fortune, which Tr*mp has repeatedly grabbed from to save himself from his own repeated failures… .Tr*mp steaks, Tr*mp Vodka, Tr*mp University, Tr*mp’s Atlantic City casinos to name just a few. Even his books were written by someone else.
Tr*mp ran into multiple failures as his father faded and could no longer play behind the scenes to keep his son on the pedestal, losing some of the political and banking power he had built.. and then died – This is not fake news, it’s all public record. Donald Tr*mp and his father carefully groomed his Powerhouse image, but it was mostly a farce held up by Fred Tr*mp’s keenly laid and mega successful foundation. The media went along with it because he frequently gave them fodder to sell papers. The Banks used them just as they used the Banks.
Tr*mp was raised by a father who deemed kindness and empathy a weakness, lying was a tool and used frequently as was division, even within the family. . And money is the only currency. Both Tr*mp and his father played a huge role in the demise of his brother. To read through that story is painful, even as a complete stranger. They were merciless in their disapproval of his kindness in general, and his choice to become a TWA pilot instead of a grunt for the Tr*mp Organization. “A glorified bus driver”. Every effort he made to become a self sufficient man they hammered down, and his alcoholism as a result was no match for their ruthless dismantling.
There’s no doubt in my mind Mary wrote this as catharsis for the anger she feels for her fathers death and she and her brother’s (Fred JR’s only children) removal from her grandfathers will- which had no basis other than “their father was dead”… so they weren’t entitled to any portion of his 20 % ownership in Tr*mpworld.   That was the reason given. Donald of course, held the strings. I was aware of that and no doubt Tr*mp will use it to say she’s lying and spinning because she’s “a loser”. The truths are all out there, so her motive makes no difference, it’s not lies with a bent.
Mary makes clear – They are never wrong, they never admit mistakes, they will use anyone to get what they want, and Donald in particular will use a charm that panders to lure you in, as long as you cater to him, praise him, never criticize. If you do criticize or stand up to him in anyway, you are a throw away, you’re “nasty”. Fred  made sure Donald got away with any transgressions, he was pampered in that respect his entire life.  Again… You don’t have to take Mary’s word for anything, it’s all out there in plain sight. When he ran for President she thought his poor preparedness for such a leadership roll would be obvious and that was clear when not one of the family save his children and spouse endorsed him for president, because they knew who he has been his entire life, and yet to their shock he was elected.
She notes that taking a look at many of the people who attend his rallies and cheer his hate speeches… these are people he would never socialize with in his circles, he would consider them beneath him. but he knows how to use them to get what he wants, and they’ve fallen in line, like so many others, not yet realizing it’s all about him. That has become abundantly clear to me in his handling of the Pandemic, in his cowtowing to Put*n, in his inability to make any attempt at Unity anywhere, in his stance on racism…or I should say lack of stance.
In his newest interview.. Tr*mp says about the pandemic… “I’ll be right eventually. I will be right eventually. You know I said, ‘It’s going to disappear.’ I’ll say it again,” Tr*mp said in an interview on “F0x News Sunday.” – Meanwhile… 140,000 dead, many sick, ICU beds completely full in some regions, and not one single word of empathy for the victims from the President.
PS:  Bravo to Chr*s Wallace, who produced a brilliant and telling interview with the Orange Scream.  He literally doesn’t give any fucks what Tr*mpworld thinks, he was after the truth and he exposed it.

What remains

Just picked up my father’s personal effects – I cannot express adequately how strange it is to see his wrist watch in a bag, the ancient but still working glow in the dark dial, still keeping time as he was taking note not long ago…. the band that his wrist lived in for so many years. The gold chain and Anchor that he didn’t ever take off, from his boating /Staten Island guido days. A small delicate gold chain with a tiny anchor, heart and key in a gold box, all tangled, like the mystery of it’s owner. It must have belonged to someone who meant a lot to him for him to keep it, and yet I don’t know whose it was. How is that possible? I’ve spent an hour trying to untangle it, as if that will give me some answers.  (Update: I managed it.)  The worn wallet always in his jeans pocket. The body that anchored those things now ash in a biodegradable urn on a shelf waiting for the boat ride to his final resting place- his request. The photo books we made for him are worn, indicating frequent thumb throughs. I haven’t yet touched the clothes or the things he kept in his nightstand. 
 
Even when you thought you did all you should do so that there would be no regrets, trust me, you’ll find a few.
 
Take the Virus seriously, please people……. it’s no joke, it’s not the flu, it’s not a hoax or political ploy. It’s real and still out there and needs your healthy respect.
 
💔