Friday glee has etriers

Apr. 19th, 2019 09:12 am[personal profile] rydra_wong posting in [community profile] disobey_gravity
rydra_wong: A woman boulderer lunges up towards the camera for a hold. (climbing -- puccio!!!)
The Friday post of glee is where you get to tell us about your climbing-related happiness this week.

It can be a new achievement or adventure, or just that you climbed and had fun; it can be that your favourite climbing wall is expanding or that you bought new rock shoes or that you found a cool ice-climbing vid on YouTube. No glee is too small -- or too big. Members are encouraged to cheer each other on and share the squee.

N.B. Please feel free to post your glee on any day of the week; the Friday glee is just to get the ball rolling.

To enhance this week's glee: for a change of pace, instead of a video please admire this badass photo of Archana Bhattacharjee, first woman mountaineer from Assam. You can read more about her here.
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
 Nonetheless, there was still a little round of diversions, and Livvy was took a jaunt to Vauxhall with Sophy and Sam and Jerome, and to the menagerie at Exeter Exchange, sure she would have a deal to tell the household when she returned to the manor! And Sophy conveyed her to a fine china warehouse so that she might put herself in possession of pots suited to lotions and washes.

Besides those, Livvy minded that some pretty pieces of chaney would make excellent presents for her fellow-servants upon her return.

But that put her into the thought that she should find some gift for Sophy, that was such a fine friend and guide in the ways of Town and great households. It was a puzzle.

It came to her that she might ask Maurice, that was Sophy’s cousin and might have some knowledge of her tastes. So while she was about helping him tidy after what she must suppose was nigh on the final fittings, making sure there was no fallen pins on the floor &C, while he went about the task of folding the garments – that seemed quite an art – she looked up from her labours and asked him what he thought Sophy might appreciate.

Maurice straightened up. Hmmmm.  He looked thoughtful. I have heard her say, he said, that she has seen ladies that had plants growing in pots in their drawing-rooms, and she thought it a very pretty thing. Better than cut flowers that will go wither very soon.

Livvy sighed.

Why, I fancy there are nurserymen sell such things – and sure, you might ask one or other of the gardeners here whether they might advize. He gave her a sidelong glance. I am like to think they would be entire happy to do so.

Livvy blushed. Why, mayhap I will do so, she said. For indeed, that would be a fine out of the common thing to give Sophy.

So a day or so later, when she found herself at liberty with no pressing tasks, she went down to the fine hothouses of Offgrange House – sure, she might be going pick out some flowers for Lady Fairleigh’s sitting-room, or a button-hole bloom for Sir Charles – and peeped about to see might she find a gardener.

She saw a dim figure inside one, and stepped inside.

To her extreme confusion, 'twas no gardener but the Marquess himself, holding little Lady Di and showing off some flower to her – indeed, had been give out that His Lordship was very well reputed for his studies upon plants and flowers and his learning in the matter.

Livvy, exceeding flustered, made a dip.

How now, Bracewell! What do you here? Perchance a flower for your hair when you go promenade?

Livvy blushed, but found herself explaining her mission, at which Lord Offgrange looked exceeding interested. Somewhat that would withstand a living-room – would not require cossetting in a hothouse – would not bloom and die but flower again – do you leave this pretty conundrum with me, I fancy I have some notions –

O, Your Lordship, I would not be presuming –

No, indeed, 'tis just the kind of problem I like to set my mind to – Lady Di, seeing his attention a little distracted, patted his face – Come along, my pet, let us go consider over this together.

Some few days later the Marquess came into the dressing-room as Livvy was putting her various lotions &C into the fine pots she had acquired, and placing them in the very elegant polished wooden box with brass corners that Sophy’s interest had put her into the way of.

She stood up and bobbed.

Why, Bracewell, I think I have the plant for you: might you provide me with a suitable pretty pot I will be about transplanting it, writing up a few little notes on care and watering –

O, said Livvy, somewhat overcome. O, Your Lordship, I did not expect –

Tush. Did I not say, entirely the kind of puzzle I like? Are we not entire grateful for your excellent care of Lady Fairleigh?

Why, 'tis a lady is a pleasure to serve, said Livvy.

The Marquess smiled at her. A pretty pot, he said, about – gesturing with his hands – such a size.

She could not ask Sophy to escort her about this errand, but she had discovered that Jerome was entire willing to squire her about Town did she require it. 'Twas a gratification. She did not think she was about taking any romantic notion towards him, but it was pleasing to a young woman to have such a fine fellow give her his arm, protect her in crowds, show attentive.

At last it came to the time almost to depart. 'Twas considered entire in order that she invited Sophy to a tea-drinking. Sophy came in looking a little sadly – La, Livvy, shall miss you. But, here is a little gift, for a remembrance

She handed over a fine cambric kerchief, edged with exquisite lace and embroidered with Livvy’s initials.

O, such lace!

Sophy gave a little smile. 'Tis Lady Trembourne’s own making. She was being painted by Sir Zoffany wearing the Trembourne Tiara, that is a quaint old-fashioned thing, and desired me to dress her hair for the purpose, and presented me with the lace.

And, said Livvy, bringing out the bowl with the flowering plant, I have this for you.

Sophy’s eyes grew very wide. O, she said, o, that quite exceeds.

A maid came in with tea.

They exchanged a little gossip, and vows of friendship, and considered over the possibilities that they might meet during the summer as Lady Bexbury went about her visits. They embraced and kissed, and Livvy sent her very best regards to Sam and to all in the Bexbury household and to all of Sophy’s connexion that she had had the pleasure of meeting –

La, I fancy Jerome will be somewhat disappointed that you go leave Town!

Livvy gave a little shrug: why, he is a pretty enough fellow, but very fine –

Sophy giggled and said, there was a piece she collected in a play, when a fellow goes mention marriage to a lady, and she replies that she would only have him might she have another suited to working days.

Livvy laughed. Why, 'tis so, and I fancy Sam is a fellow of that kind.

Sophy smiled very doating, and said, that he is.

They made somewhat tearful farewells.

 

And here they were, seated at the back of the church, Sir Toby and his groomsman already a-waiting at the altar.

O, said Hettie, such a pity that Lady Fairleigh might not come (for Sir Toby’s parish church was so situated that 'twould be a very difficult task to attain to it with the wheelchair). They sighed a little.

But, squeaked Maria, here she comes. O, is that our Miss Millick?

Livvy smiled. Had had some notion of how she would look thus arrayed, most exceeding fine: on Sir Charles’ arm, that would give her away, there being no father or brother to do so, attended by Lady Emily (Em, said Lady Fairleigh, for all her naughtiness, was ever Milly’s favourite, and 'tis very kind of her to offer); o, indeed she had consequence.

Miss Millick had said, looking about with tears in her eyes the fine presents that had been given her, sure she felt like the Queen of Sheba, only lacking the camels to carry 'em over to Sir Toby’s mansion.

And the pianoforte, had said Lady Emily, is already there. (For that was the gift from Lady Offgrange and her sisters.)

LIvvy sat back and hearkened to the words of the service, and Miss Millick’s clear and Sir Toby’s rather muttered responses, and thought that although had been very agreeable to go to Lunnon, and sample its pleasures, and see dear Sophy, was also very pleasant to be at home and in her rightful place once more.

china_shop: Close-up of Zhao Yunlan grinning (Default)
Title: all I need to know
Fandom: Guardian
Rating: PG? (references to sex, but no actual sex)
Length: ~700 words
Notes: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, established relationship, secrets, no spoilers. Also for the FFW Bingo prompt, Floating, and [personal profile] kiezh's prompt of Shen Wei, "No. I won't." No warnings apply.
Summary: Three months of mutually investigating each other, occasionally crossing over into actual B&E and/or stalking, and Shen Wei decides to enforce his boundaries now, when they’re finally together?

all I need to know )

Sign ups are open

Apr. 18th, 2019 11:49 pm[personal profile] bridgetmkennitt posting in [community profile] npt_admin
bridgetmkennitt: (Umbrella)
Here is the sign up form. Sign ups close April 30th.

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Dear Prime Time Player on DW
conuly: (Default)
I finally got through the two published Kiranmala books.

These are solid middle grade fantasy - good mix of jokes, though-provoking-ness, adventure, and feelings. Plus some weird worldbuilding (in the best way) and social consciousness.

Two things, though. No, three things.

First, our protagonist is amazingly clueless, especially when it comes to her crush, in particular, and his feelings about her. She's clueless in other ways, too - at several points people explicitly tell her things, but she completely ignores them and then has to come across her epiphany the hard way. Only once does she realize she's done this. It's good for the reader to be a little ahead of the protagonist, but nobody wants to be this far ahead. Even when you account for the age of the target audience, this girl needs to smarten up.

Secondly, the author has clearly read The Hunger Games. Well, everybody's read The Hunger Games*, but I mean to say that the second book has a very Hunger Games vibe that was a wee bit disorienting.

Third, the refugee crisis is very topical. I think, however, that having your obvious metaphor conveyed with actual monsters that eat humans is, perhaps, in bad taste. Yes, we all get the moral that you shouldn't judge entire groups of people on hearsay and vicious rumors... but that moral is rather muddied when our main character, aside from making friends in That Persecuted Group and then having a cluebat generously applied, has also encountered several members of that same group who have hunted her and threatened to eat her. Indeed, one of her friends threatened to eat her at one point.




* For a given value of "everybody", of course.

Onewhero in Autumn

Apr. 19th, 2019 05:43 pm[personal profile] landingtree
landingtree: Small person examining bottlecap (Default)
[personal profile] seahearth and I are visiting Justy and Tim for Easter at the Onewhero house, a lifestyle block amid farms. The sun is hot enough in the afternoons on the west side of the house that the sunporch and the bookroom where I'm sleeping are uninhabitable, but the nights are cold enough that we're lighting the living-room fire. The nights are clear, the moon bright enough to give the trees shadows. The big hill, Pukeotahinga, is dry, and so are the choppy little hills and ridges running off to the southward horizon. The paddocks are dry, one short and scrubby and the other silver with long, fallen hay. Gus, the oranger of the kunekune pigs, is vivid against it. Penelope, blonde and black, is very sociable at the moment, and if scratched behind the ears falls over in bliss almost immediately -- hence her other name, Topple, mostly now fallen out of use. (We had a conversation about the origins of the word 'disgruntled'. It seems that 'gruntle' is an old word meaning 'utter little grunts', with 'dis' as intensifier. To disgruntle a pig is therefore ambiguous. If the pig has just fallen over, uttering little grunts means 'keep scratching belly and ears.' Otherwise, it's a query about the next meal. The second is more common -- but only cats and humans ever look as blissful as a toppled pig).

The eternal renovations are reached several long-planned stages. So the L-shaped attachment to the garage where [personal profile] seahearth and I used to sleep no longer exists in its old form -- and a good thing too, since the old form had its carpet laid directly on concrete, with damp rising through the cracks. Books too long ignored on the shelves there would be mortared together by mason-bees.

For the first day I would every so often think of going through the house to the outside-room before remembering it isn't there anymore. In its place is a temporarily surreal space: the roof is high, with no ceiling under it. To the Northwest, a table tennis table, and the window out over the vege garden and one of the paddocks; to the Southeast, a bed, bedside lamp, shelves full of clothes; to the Southwest, the door, a foot off the ground; and to the Northeast, a wall currently defined only by structural beams, beyond which is the garage, with roller-door and tool-benches, meat freezer and electric organ (on its way out), an incentive against letting your table tennis shots go long.

The other running renovation -- well, apart from painting the outside of that new garage-rooms complex on some substantial trestles -- is the replacement of the kitchen window. This also feels surreal:

View of a garden through the space where the kitchen window has just been removed


While Tim and Justy and I were lifting the old window down, [personal profile] seahearth was on the other side of it making caramel. The conversation about this on the way from the airport went something like,

[personal profile] seahearth: "Can we stop somewhere along the way where we can get shellac or lacquer?"

Justy: "Sure. Where?

[personal profile] seahearth: "I don't know. Definitely Bunnings would have it, but maybe an art supply shop."

Me: "Why do you need lacquer?"

Justy: "Oh, she told me about this -- it's for caramel."

Me: "Caramel?"

[personal profile] seahearth: "Yes. I'm weaving it."

No workable weaving caramel has yet been produced -- it's a design class project -- but experiments continue.

There's also a new bushwalk since I was last here in September: a gate where there was never a gate before, leading to path tacking backward and forward down a slope all over stones, through gorse and barberry and outnumbered native trees. Part of a long project to restore the slope. Tim is chopping it out at a great rate on rare unbusy days. I don't think I'd ever walked on that part of the slope, though [personal profile] seahearth and I plunged down through the pines off to the left of it, and scrambled a few times down the waterfall where the stream goes down far to the right of it.

Then there are all the books from our childhoods which were in the outside-room and are now in the poolhouse on the table. The poolhouse is in one of its 'chock-full of odds and ends' phases, after having been a bedroom again for a while (although even then it had boat mattresses in it). I'm the only one who hasn't looked through the books yet, and I'm going slowly, pausing every time I start to sneeze from the dust of mason-bee cocoons. Many of the books are damaged from much reading, or from damp and bees, or both, but none of the ones I want to keep so far have been. There are lots I'm happy to send on their way, and a few I actually want to keep and read, and only a very few which I have no desire ever to read again yet still want to hang onto. (Karazan Quartet).

The dingy which, on its first outing, sank under me and Tim on the way into a small bay, is now sitting in the middle of the poolhouse lawn, waiting to become a flowerbed. The beehives have moved. The manuka clump on the hillock by the watertank is a little larger.

Now the cats and dog are eating their dinners, Saphira managing very well with her three remaining teeth and Butterscotch eating more than she usually does at a sitting, and Snoopy once again temporarily convinced that dogroll is food. The other cat, Suvine or Mozenrath depending who you asked, has died. I wouldn't necessarily have seen her yet on this visit anyway, she would have been spending almost all this time sitting in the laundry cupboard

There have been easter eggs, chocolate kiwis, hot cross buns, chocolate french toast (successful experiment), the first good pumpkin from the patch down by the creek, short walks, a lot of table tennis, scrabble, shifting trestles, lifting windows. I have been rereading The Claw of the Conciliator, because Gene Wolfe is dead, and I would like to manage to like his writing. I have a cold which has me more of an invalid than most colds do; its symptoms have retreated, except for what usually retreats first: headache and tiredness when I do anything as strenuous as walking up slopes. Hoping this goes away soon. But it is being a fine holiday.

"Getting paid for every jar"

Apr. 18th, 2019 10:26 pm[personal profile] rosefox
rosefox: A person in a gas mask. (illness)
Today I got blood drawn to verify my immunity to measles, mumps, and rubella.

If you're in or near an area with an active measles outbreak, or if you happen to be seeing your doctor for some other reason, I encourage you to get your immunity checked, especially if you're too young to have had measles and too old to have gotten a second dose of the vaccine when that recommendation was added in 1989. For all the talk of unvaccinated kids, it's non-immune adults who can do the most harm, because they're the most mobile. The guy who started the Michigan outbreak assumed he was immune; then he infected 40 people. So please get checked out, and get your MMR if you need it, and do your part for herd immunity to counteract those who won't or can't.

My pediatrician was on the ball and I got an MMR in 1991. I'm almost certainly immune. But we live on the edge of one of the neighborhoods that's had reported cases*, and we frequently shop in that neighborhood, and Kit plays on the local playground with kids from that neighborhood... so we're all getting blood tests just in case.

* I've been thinking about how easy it is for this to turn into "I don't want my child to play with those dirty children from that segregated community" and the like. I have been reading some Orthodox Jewish news sites—all of which are pro-vax, bless them—and one published an op-ed that bluntly said, "Letting your kids get measles instead of getting them vaccinated plays right into 'dirty Jew' stereotypes and harms the whole community." So I am being conscious with my wording, and glad that that discussion is happening within Orthodox communities, and keeping my very non-Orthodox self the hell out of it.

Kit's pediatrician says the dose Kit got at 12 months will protect them until they turn four and get the second dose, and there's no need to give it early (which he does do for children traveling to epidemic areas). But he's keeping an eye out for reports of measles on our end of the neighborhood, and giving babies their first doses as early as it's safe to do.

I hate this. I hate every part of this. I hate how easily anti-vaxers prey on vulnerable people. I hate that this is still, still, based on fear of autism (and don't get me started on autism and Jewishness, because whoo boy there's a lot to talk about there). I just want everyone to be safe and healthy, especially the little babies who get no say in any of this.

Notre Dame Fire Update

Apr. 19th, 2019 12:23 am[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)
The fire in the Notre Dame Cathedral was probably caused by an electrical short.  France has already announced a design contest for a new spire.

Prompt for 2019-04-18

Apr. 18th, 2019 06:57 am[personal profile] conuly posting in [community profile] dailyprompt
conuly: (Default)
Today's prompt is: "All bark and no bite"

small babies are cool

Apr. 18th, 2019 10:56 pm[personal profile] julian
julian: Picture of the sign for Julian Street. (Default)
My nephew Fritzie, at 5 months or so, is in the "oh, hey, I have feet, my feet are cool!" stage of things. He can turn over and do various energetic movements and is now eating a few things other than breast milk, too. And smiles all over the place. Plus he tells you instantly if he has just peed, because he hates marinating in his own fluids and does not wish to do it ever. (Frederick says this is atypical of most infants, but I can't say's I blame him. Fritzie, I mean.)

An overly-lit picture of him from a couple days ago. )

I went and hung out and was useful occasionally as a second pair of hands to do baby things with, this afternoon. K went to a dentist's appointment, F did some work, and Fritzie hung out with me, and was perfectly cromulent for a bit, but eventually decided he was inconsolable; that's just what babies do, sometimes. Mostly I think he didn't want cereal, he wanted *milk*. So K coming back was a relief to him. (The picture's from our combined birthday celebration a few days ago, though. I enjoy it because he is, to quote Diane DiMassa, playing the cello.)

Also, I met the neighbor's three dogs. Two of them are brother-and-sister golden retrievers, and the third is a Leonberger. (This is, for those who don't know, a ginormous dog which just got its AKC certification in 2010. They originated as a mixture of St. Bernard, Newfoundland, and Great Pyrenees. Yes indeed, they are muckin' huge. Also, kindly.) The neighbor let me come in his yard and give them a thorough scritching, so hopefully in future the (protective of her turf) Leonberger will be good with me wandering by.

Then I went to a Dedham Historical Society lecture on "The Indigenous Peoples of Dedham", which was given by a 2nd year grad student in history (going for a Masters but not a Doctorate), who is very shy and not yet all that good at public speaking (in that I could tell she was holding back panic), but was knocking it *out of the park* in terms of being detailed enough to be useful, but never getting lost in the weeds. She went on about how things were vaguely collaborative in the 1600s, and got worse, and then the semi-genocidal King Phillip's War happened and yeah, not good, to understate.

Factoid I didn't know: Apparently the accepted Dedham wisdom is that there were no indigenous settlements in what-is-now-Dedham itself. (I make that specification because Dedham is now about 10 square miles, but was originally 200+ square miles; their turf went down to the Rhode Island border.) She said that there's archeological evidence of seasonal encampments in the area of what is now Wigwam Pond, and that these encampments were generally just about around where the white settlements were. This makes sense, given that the local tribes did tend to have different wintering and summering locations.

Other factoid: She made sure to note that while there was no battle of King Phillip's War in what-is-now-Dedham, what-is-now-Dedham did serve as the common rendezvous spot for the four local counties. This caused murmuring from the clued-in crowd. (In other words, nope, the town was nothing like blameless.)

I could tell she was going to be The Best when, in the first few minutes of her talk, she made glancing reference to the 2008 struggle to change the Dedham High mascot, which was at the time a stereotypical Native American mascot (subdivision red-faced brave). She called the mascot, or possibly the people supporting it, "well-intentioned but misguided," and I was like, "Ah, I am in good hands" and relaxed. (Also, in the course of events, she noted that the current state seal is fairly enh, but the original one is actively awful. I had no idea.)

(no subject)

Apr. 18th, 2019 09:24 pm[personal profile] kittydesade
kittydesade: (walking on sunshine)
I'm still here, I swear. I'm just out of the habit of posting in here regularly.

I had a cold for two days, the first of which involved a lot of sneezing and shivering and the second of which involved a lot of being exhausted and dizzy and running into things, and both nights I slept a lot. And then on the third day I was better and I had a lot of energy and I got a bunch of things cleaned up at work and came home, did a bunch of writing and a bit of gardening. Which is to say I transplanted the goji berries into slightly larger pots finally, will most likely have to transplant them into the giantass pots in the front of the house by the end of summer, and also transplanted the giant unidentified succulent into a larger pot. Times like this I wish I'd gotten one of those tricorder type devices someone had tried to kickstart a while back. But then I don't know whether or not those ended up being funded or if they worked as advertised.

(A quick google search says yes they were very well funded and no people were not happy with the result. Possibly I made a good call.)

I need to stop noodling around on all the new guitar songs I want to learn and finish some of them, dammit. It doesn't help that Don't Fear the Reaper is the same riff over and over again for a couple of minutes, but I do need to finish learning all the pieces of that. I do know all the pieces of Wish You Were Here as far as fingering goes, I just need to get faster on the chord changes. And either Fortunate Son or finally sit down and do the note-taking, pun halfway intended, for Under the Bridge. Blaaargh.

And the writing is slowly catching up to where I want it to be. Lifestyles, that is, and also Mad Angel Blues which I have sort of decided to rewrite as a horror novel because why not, and which I think I have found the setup for the underlying conflict, which I wasn't sure how that was going to happen. Well now I'm more sure! It's more in place, which is good because I am going to need that grounding if I'm going to do a second Nano in a month, as I guess that's going to happen. Certainly with as much writing as i need to do fo this Nano this month drafting that isn't going to happen immediately. Aaaugh too much to do not enough money coming in to do it full time on its own. Poop.

But. Spring is pretty much here. There are garden things that need to be done, writing things that need to be done, and I have energy! To do it! Amazing! I am much amazed!

Prompt for 2019-04-17

Apr. 17th, 2019 12:15 am[personal profile] conuly posting in [community profile] dailyprompt
conuly: (Default)
Today's prompt is: "turning over a new leaf"

(no subject)

Apr. 18th, 2019 09:54 pm[personal profile] yuuago
yuuago: (PolLiet - Sunlight)
MAN, I forgot that making pysanky takes FOREVER. It's so time consuming! I was at it for hours this evening, and I'm still nowhere near done.

Somebody, please come help me put wax on these damn eggs. xD

freaking brains

Apr. 18th, 2019 08:11 pm[personal profile] alatefeline
alatefeline: Painting of a cat asleep on a book. (Default)
I cannot freaking focus Read more... )

If anybody local to Portland would be able and willing Read more... )

Masechet Chullin Daf 142

Apr. 18th, 2019 11:15 pm[personal profile] seekingferret
seekingferret: Two warning signs one above the other. 1) Falling Rocks. 2) Falling Rocs. (Default)
Daf 142

End of the masechet! I'm trying to decide what I want to learn next- I liked the accountability of making myself do dailyish posts, but I don't think I care that much about the next Masechet, Bechoros. Anyone have any thoughts?

Actually, in general, I'm curious to hear from anyone who's been reading along who didn't have much experience with Talmud before, what they've learned from these posts of mine. Feel free to drop a comment or a PM.


The Rabbis usually want to end a Masechet on a high note, something that transcends the ticky tack technical details that otherwise fill most of the time in the Gemara and offers some more inspirational. Here, we get a little focus on the promise of long life to someone who observes the mitzvah of shaliach haken.

Kal vachomer: If one gets long life for such a piddling, easy mitzvah as shaliach haken, how great must the reward be for doing a legitimately difficult mitzvah!

Rabbi Yitzhak moderates the enthusiasm a bit by pointing out that clearly anytime the Torah promises reward, it's not promising reward in this world, it's promising reward in Olam Haba. That's because reward in this world is too temporal to reward an action as great as doing a mitzvah, perhaps.

Rabbi Yitzhak offers what seems like a mashal- A father sends his son up a tower to send away a mother bird from a nest and fetch bird eggs for dinner. The son falls to his death. Shaliach haken and kibud av are the two mitzvot that God promises long life for, so clearly the son's reward will be in Olam Haba.

The Gemara says "This seems like a mashal, clearly this never actually happened." No, answer the Rabbis, Rabbi Yitzhak really saw this happen. I'm a little skeptical, but yeah, we all know about misfortunes in life that seem unfair. There is no clear causal relationship between our actions on Earth and our reward on Earth, that much is clear. God intervenes in our lives, but that happens in ways whose ultimate objectives are hard to comprehend. Needless to say, we don't always know what's good for us.

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