Home Sweet Hovel

Demo Weekend... no, not "demo" as in demonstration. "Demo" as in demolition. This is the weekend I start gutting the bathroom. I'm doing a major overhaul of the bathroom structure. What I hope to accomplish is a leak-free toilet and sink -- something that it is not today -- and a draft-free and rot-free structure. I'll need to replace two floor joists and insulate the exterior wall. I don't have much of a budget and will have to perform a lot of the labor myself. I'm being helped with the reconstruct by the nice guys who came out and handled our septic woes.

As you can see, the toilet and sink/vanity are completely shot. The toilet finally bit the big one when the contractor ran the new line from the house to the septic tank (story below). I've already removed a cupboard and started tearing out the first layer of wall: wire lath and plaster. What fun! I also have to rip out what three nice but inept guys put in when they "repaired" the bathroom 10 years ago. They did such a poor job it's taken me this long to get enough courage/heart to tear it out. I just kept shaking my head and wondered where to start...

Last winter we started having septic problems. Not hard to do when the number of people in your house doubles (from 3 to 6). Trouble was, the only person who knew where the septic tank was buried died 17 years ago. This tank has never been pumped out, and it dates from the early 70's. We started digging last year and decided to call the professionals.

The first man came out to the house and couldn't find it with his probe. The second guys ran a "bug" through the clean out and came to a place where it "probably" was located. We dug (or I should say son Brian dug) and found terra cotta pipe which was immediately immersed in effluent. Son resigned from the labor force on this project, and we tried to get a contractor. No luck.

Until... our zoning officer said we should really do something about the hole in our side yard because the neighbors were complaining. Now, our zoning officer is a neighbor but we like her anyway. She made a recommendation and we called. Spring/summer is their busy season, but they'd call us when they could schedule us in. Fast forward to two weeks ago. They finally got a break and started the dig. Three days later, we had not one, but two tanks pumped out, and a new line running from the house to the septic tank. A couple of concrete rings extend the top of the tanks so that the next time, we'll be able to find them.

Well, back to the task at hand. I'm not looking for a "House Beautiful" remodel -- I just want a functioning bathroom that 6 people can share and keep clean. Utilitarian, I guess. Anyone have any suggestions?

Waaay too much to do

It's 10 pm, and it's been a busy day. I've shoved things into panniers and there's no extra room. I have everything including the kitchen sink. The bike is heavy and cumbersome. I feel defeated before I get started. The front end of the bike is twitchy, the rear end of the bike is twitchy. I have a day to get used to it -- it's why I am only going 17 miles the first day. I am leaving the spare tire behind (the bike's, not mine) and the floor pump that I took last year, but I've substituted the hammered dulcimer and ice cooler - NOT an even exchange, by any means. I've switched out a tiny, digital camera for a mid-size DSLR and lens AND tripod. I have the BoB this time around, and no panniers and tent on the rear rack.

Oh, and it's supposed to rain tomorrow.

ON a bright note... I got the front derailleur adjusted. The nice man at Cycle, Sport and Ski in Greensburg gave the cable an adjustment and gave the bike a quick look-over. I'm all set to go. He even made me an extra spoke to carry. Price - just over $10.

I picked up snack food at Wal-Mart. I went there hungry and came out $75 lighter. 2/3's of the food went into the resupply box, to be divied up next weekend.

My friends, Neil B and Neil F named their tour the "Shake, Rattle and Roll" tour. I'm thinking about naming this one the "Old, Fat and Sassy" tour.

Jeff presented me with 100 brochures for Fort Ligonier to take on this tour, as well as 10 magnets in the shape of the fort's historical marker to hand out. I'll put some of the brochures in the resupply box he's bringing to Old Bedford Village.

Early start tomorrow. Gotta hit the hay.

Last Day of Work - Part Two (evening)

Where was I when I was so rudely interrupted by this thing called "work"? The checklist -

Unload the car (check)

Get bike checked over. Um, Houston, we have a problem. My local shop never has time for walk-ins, and I couldn't leave it because they are closed tomorrow -- they're having an "event" on the mountain. They also don't stock spokes. Oh well. My fault for procrastinating. I called another shop and they are busy tomorrow, but will squeeze me in if I'm there when they open at 10.

Everything else fell by the wayside and now I'll just tack another list to it.

Work went smoothly, no major trauma. I flipped my name badge over to the blank side and wrote "Call Me" on one line and "Irresponsible" on the next with the China marker. I was asked to change it. I rubbed out "Irresponsible" and substituted "Ishmael". The new cashier in the lane next to mine and I did the "Time Warp". The customers were amused, as usual. Seven hours went, well, like eight (as usual). Then I was done.

I came home to find that the baby squirrel was gone. Brian and Sarah took it to a place that specializes in wildlife rescue, and the baby has a chance with one of the mother squirrels there. I hope it survives.

Things are winding down, and I'm very tired. I've got a tremendously busy day tomorrow. Goodnight.

Last Day of Work - Part One (morning)

I work a 2:30-9:30pm shift this evening. It's my last one for a month. Some of my co-workers have already wished me "bon voyage", and some I won't see again until Christmas break. The inevitability of this trip won't hit home until after my shift at work tonight.

I've got one pannier packed, and the camera bag. The new camera bag I bought last night to hold the camera and the new lens I also picked up last night. The lens? An AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor 55-200mm f/4-5.6G ED. Whatever the hell that means. What it means to me is that I can extend my reach (so to speak) and get closer to what I want to shoot without having to physically be there. In other words, I hope to get some action scenes at living history events without having to be in the ranks. The lens isn't the one I really wanted, but the one I could afford right now. Anyway, the camera bag is packed - no room at the inn.

On today's list... so far

Unload the car. (halfway there, at noon)
Get bike checked over. (on my way at one)
Wash work clothes. (in the dryer now, at noon)
Await Wayne's arrival (our UPS guy). I'm still waiting for my REI shipment, and Wayne's here by 11:30 like clockwork. (Ok, it was 11:50 am today) check.
Air out sleeping bag. I had hoped to wash it, but I'm not going anywhere near the laundromat soon.
Work on the list of stuff I need for Jeff to bring to the Bedford event.
Get "smilin" BoB out of the rafters in the shed and re-assembled.

I found my headlamp! When I went to Gander Mountain for Isopro yesterday, I saw one that I liked and Jeff almost bought it for me. I also saw a Lexan JavaPress. Coffee or light? Coffee or light? Yes, the light would keep me from careening over the guide rail in the Paw Paw tunnel, and would be helpful finding my way to the porta-john in the wee hours of the morning, but the lure of fresh-brewed coffee, that elixer of wonderfulness in the morning, proved too much. I opted for the JavaPress. Lucky me!

Speaking of luck... a customer checked out at my register Wednesday and he was wearing a T shirt with a picture of a chimney cleaner on it. I happened to ask if he was a sweep, and he said "yes". I asked him if he minded if we shook hands. Sure, he said, but he didn't think that he was particularly lucky. I asked him if he ever fell off of a roof, and the reply was, "twice". I asked him if he broke any bones. He said no - the worst he ever got was a couple of scratches. That's good enough for me.

It's 12:30 - Deuce (grandson) can't find his swimsuit, Libby called from band camp because she can't find her permission slip, Cocoa (one of the cats) dragged home a baby squirrel -- it's eyes aren't even opened and I had to wake Sarah up so she could call the local animal rescue. At least the REI order was delivered. I just may make it to work on time... barely. Oops, forgot about fixing lunch.

T minus 5 days...

It's raining here in Westylvania. So much for getting into the shed and going through gear. I reconciled the checking accounts and paid this month's bills. I now have access to my personal checking account on the web. I need to go through re-enactment clothing for Bedford and set aside things I need Jeff to bring for me (no room on the BoB for the cello and fiddle). Maybe I should try to sort out minor (and I do mean minor) dilemmas...

Coffee

I'm not OK unless I have a cup (or five) of coffee in the morning. People tell me I'm like a bear with a sore ass without my morning cup of coffee. I've made coffee many ways on camping trips, and some ways were quite successful. Last year I took grounds and made cowboy coffee, using a Nalgene bottle and a piece of stocking to strain the stray grounds. I was able to make LOTS of coffee -- a liter at a time, at a minimal cost. Never mind that the coffee container I brought it in took up a lot of space, and cracked open in my pannier, leading to a royal mess. The other drawback was I couldn't use the Nalgene for anything else but brew coffee -- I never got the coffee residue out of it.


Coffee bags are much simpler, but more expensive. I tend to use two bags to a mug. My friend Dan makes a coffee concentrate that he just adds to hot water (reminds me to call Dan for the recipe). I don't think I'll use it this trip - how do I store it? Some people purchase coffee concentrate -- it's available on-line. Instant coffee? Never (unless I use a coffee bag - they contain some instant).

Tires

My friend, Neil F. recommends running a tire with tread instead of the stock tires on my Novara Randonnee. It's good advice, but I think I'm going to run out of time before I get a chance to change my tires. I leave on Sunday. Hutch at Cumberland Trail Connection said he'd take care of me when I ride through. [Neil B -- stop in on your way through and watch out for wet RR tracks; Neil F -- Hutch said to tell you "hello"]


Tents

I prefer sleeping in a hammock. You would think that with all of the trees along the Passage and C&O you could find suitable ones to tie a hammock to. You can in most places, especially if you stealth camp. Now, I'm not anti-stealthing -- I just try not to do it on these particular trails. Landowners adjacent to the Passage get pretty upset about people leaving the trail, and as a matter of fact, one has posted nasty "No Trespassing" signs on his property. I'm pretty sure camping is only in designated areas on NPS property along the C&O as well. I had a hard time finding suitable trees along the C&O. Most are old and very wide around - and there's usually too much distance between them to hang a hammock. I took a tent for Libby and myself last year, but I prefer the hammock. I guess I could use the hammock as a bivy on the ground, but I worry about it being waterproof enough. Perhaps I'll take both... and hope for the best.

Stoves

I love to cook. I've used: Trioxane, alcohol gel, Sterno, wood, propane, iso-butane -- pretty much everything. Backpackers swear by their alcohol burners, but I can leave them. I haven't been able to heat much more than water and dump it into a cozy to do freezer-bag cooking. I like the flexibility of having a real stove around. I have two: a Markill Dragon and a Primus Omni-Fuel. The Primus is the more versatile of the two - you can use canister or petroleum-based fuels. The Dragon is strictly a canister stove, but it is no-fuss and quiet - so much that you can hold a conversation without screaming to make yourself heard. The Primus, on the other hand, sound like a jet engine on take-off.

The thought of being able to use unleaded gasoline appeals to me, I don't have to worry about finding iso-butane canisters along the way. However, more shops have opened along the route that cater to camping bicyclists, so finding iso isn't such a logistical problem anymore. The verdict - take the old Markill.

10 Days and Counting

I've been working on the logistics of my trip down the Great Allegheny Passage/C&O Canal. Jeff wanted an idea of where I'll be staying along the way, so I just finished a four page spreadsheet detailing overnight stops with alternates. Now I'm into some preliminary meal planning and going through the old gear lists I've acculumated over the years.

New gear --

I recently replaced my Nokia cell phone with a Palm Treo; and my digital camera with a new Nikon D60 DSLR. I just ordered a spare battery for each.

Biking shorts: three new pair to replace three pair purchased in 2004 for Lib's and my first "expedition".

"Killer cotton" T-shirts: yeah, I know... Cotton Kills. I'll take my chances. Besides, I haven't found any bike jerseys I like -- they're too short and don't do anything to flatter my "physique". Something's got to cover those bike shorts. Wicking Ts? I don't find them comfortable. I sweat like a pig in them because they feel hot to me, and they stink. I can't get the body odor out when I wash them.

Decisions, decisions --

I'm thinking about taking a small (very small) cooler with me. August is HOT, and I missed having a cooler last year (and the year before, and the year before that). I'd like to find a way to haul my dulcimer on the BoB... but I'll leave the cello home this time. One year I brought my mandolin, carried it the whole way, and actually played it while Libby fished.

I need to work on a food list, and set up a possible mail drop. I ordered a couple of Mountain House entrees from REI, they should show up on Friday. There are opportunities to get groceries and convenience stores, as well as plenty of fast food opportunities. I won't starve, but I worry about staying within my budget of $20/day. The cheaper I stay, the longer I'm away...

Vacation Request

My summer plans haven’t jelled yet, and we’re already into late-July. My daughter and riding (bicycle) partner, Libby, had to take a summer school course. That forced us to cancel our trip to Fort Ticonderoga’s 250th event, and modify our plans for Fort Niagara. I was hoping to be on the Great Allegheny Passage/C&O Canal by now but as you can see, I’m not.

It’s unusual for me not to take a month or two off to re-group. I like having the summer off with Libby -- she’s a neat young lady. My strategy in the past had been to give ample notice to my employer, quit for the summer, then be rehired in the fall.

Last summer I asked my boss when I should submit my letter of resignation. She asked me why I wanted to quit. I said I really didn’t want to quit, but wanted time off to spend with my family. She said to let her know when. I thought “cool - what a great place to work”. I still think that, by the way.

My favorite time to ride the Passage is in the fall. It’s cooler and less crowded. I usually end up riding my through-trip in July. Yes, it hot and muggy - but at least it‘s usually dry (except for late-afternoon thunderstorms). I tend to avoid August because that’s when storms seem to move up the Atlantic coast from the south and dump rain for days.

This year I dropped the ball and didn’t ask for late July until it was too late. The local youth group’s trip was in late July, and three of our cashiers are part of that group. Things were up in the air anyway - summer school and all. I really need to get away. I typed up the following letter requesting a leave of absence:

There is a fine line between the inmates and staff at the asylum. I’m finding if I don’t escape, I will become one of the patients before long.

I’ve gone through my calendar and found that I could break free with your help -- and generosity. I’d like to ride from Boston, PA to Washington, DC again. I’d also (God willing) like to ride back. At a snail’s pace (old, fat and sassy speed) I’m looking at 3-½ weeks to cover around 725 miles… if my tush, the weather and my funds holds out.

I’d leave August 10th and return -- well, that’s pretty much up to you -- as early as the 25th, or as late as the 6th of September.


FYI - Here’s a rough itinerary:

August
10 - Leave Boston, PA and camp at Cedar Creek 17.5
11 - Cedar Creek to Connellsville 21.5
12 - Connellsville to Ohiopyle 17
13 - Ohiopyle to Rockwood 30
14 - Rockwood to Frostburg, MD 28
15 - Frostburg MD to Bedford, PA 45
16 - Bedford 250th 0
17 - Bedford 250th 0
18 - Bedford to Cumberland 45
19 - Cumberland to PawPaw, WV 28
20 - PawPaw, WV to Hancock, MD 32
21 - Hancock, MD to Williamsport, MD 25
22 - Williamsport to Antietam 30
23 - Antietam to White’s Ferry 35
24 - White’s Ferry to DC 35
25 - DC to Leesburg, VA 35
26 - Leesburg, VA to Harper’s Ferry, WV 30
27 - Harper’s Ferry to Big Slackwater Detour 30
28 - Big Slackwater Detour to Big Pool, MD 31
29 - Big Pool to Little Orleans 28
30 - Little Orleans to Potomac Forks 26
31 - Potomac Forks to Cumberland 22
31 - Cumberland to Frostburg 16
1 - Frostburg to Meyersdale 16
2 - Meyersdale to Confluence 31
3 - Confluence to Connellsville 28
4 - Connellsville to West Newton 25

Yes, I know that I’m taking a long time to cover the distance. I don’t like riding more than 30 miles a day, and prefer to cover only 20 or so. For some, it’s the journey; for others, the destination. In the grand scheme of life, I’m not racing to get to the finish line first.

Yesterday my boss sidled up to me and said, with a chuckle, “I think I can accommodate your request”. [and yes, I did use the word “tush”in my letter]

My fellow cashier commented last night that she has been working at Giant Eagle for six years now. She laughed as she said that she “just took the position temporarily” to supplement the income from her day job. I hired on too, “temporarily” for many reasons… to escape the winter doldrums, to help pay for prescriptions (mine), to have a little extra spending money for the summer -- when I would quit and maybe be rehired in the fall. That was nearly two years ago. (Last year I only took a month off, and I didn’t have to quit the job to do it). I’ve had better jobs… and worse ones. Sometimes the better jobs were the worst ones, if you know what I mean.

I don’t subscribe to the WYSIWYG philosophy. A job is just one facet of life that is visible to others. People have many facets, although a few are “diamonds in the rough“ (some of which may or may not develop facets). Unfortunately, some of our customers see “cashier” and equate it with “uneducated, unskilled labor” and treat us as if we don‘t know anything. Take a look around the next time you’re in my store. Most of us are part-timers. A lot are students at the high school and college level, some are learning trades to take care of you at some point in your life. A few of us even have degrees. For some, this is a second job; for others our primary one. Some of us are retirees. (I, for one, have been through the rat race, and the rats won.) This job is not rocket science -- it’s more like landing on the “Free Parking” spot in Monopoly. Put your brain in “park” and ride out your turn.

Where’s this leading to? (OMG - I just entered the realm of western Pennsylvaniadom by ending my sentence in a preposition). Here’s the equation: Egotistical customer (i.e., “pompous ass“)+ overqualified overachiever=a tear in the fabric of our social structure? Um, not really…

Just be aware that not all people are as they seem. I, for one, am particularly intrigued by the “central business as social meeting-place” aspect of small-town life. Someone just may be gathering intelligence to write that tell-all expose about life in small-town USA. You may even end up as blog fodder. Be forewarned that when you act like a jerk and treat a cashier like a BLBBH (brainless little boo-boo head), expect the 6-year veteran to dish out the dirt about you after you leave the store.

Yep, I’m making a list…

Valley Forge, June 2008

The weekend of June 20-22, I decided to make my escape from the insanity of home life and join Jeff, my husband for a quiet getaway. He went to the Valley Forge Gun Show, I hoped to do a little riding on the Schuylkill River Trail (http://www.gophila.com/C/Philly_Favorites/380/U/Schuylkill_River_Trail/1874.html).

Instead, I opted to play tourist and ride around the Valley Forge National Historic Park. I had just purchased a digital SLR camera (a Nikon D60) a couple of days before and had just read through the first couple of chapters in my "Nikon D40/D40x for Dummies" book. Armed with just enough knowledge to take "point and shoot" pictures, I ventured out to the park. I still haven't gotten beyond those first chapters...

The park is lovely, in fact I spent both days there. I met lots of folks having picnics, walking, cycling, doing the tourist thing like I was, and I also took lots of pictures. I should have abandoned the bike ride part of the sightseeing trip - I just took so many pictures the bike got in the way. This young lady and her mother were enticed by the wild cherries growing along the path (no silly, that's not her mother... that's her dog. Her mother is off-camera):

The employees inside the Visitor Center even had a sense of humor. One uniformed man started to give me an answer to my question "Where were the Confederate troops?" but quickly realized that I was pulling his leg and laughed. Can't wait to return with Libby.

Sanctuary

I've almost finished renovating my little "sanctuary". I still need to install some trim and stain most of it, but for the most part, the room is done. (I keep vacillating between leaving it natural, staining it white, or painting it. I think this week I've decided to stain it "pickled white".) I moved some old furniture in, most of my instruments and some books and it's starting to become my own space -- even if it is a small space.

"The Wall" -- I've relocated my decoy "collection" from the living room, and made space for some of the instruments on the top shelf. My cello, Oscar, has a nice niche in the corner.

"Work Area" -- When I renovated my kitchen (aka "The Galley"), I left a small work space where I could sit and work. My computer area was there, and it wasn't a big deal when there were only three of us living here. Fast forward a couple of years -- there are now six of us... my "boomerang" son moved back home with his 6 year-old son and girlfriend in tow. We're all on different shifts, and it can get quite crowded in the kitchen. Now the only problem with my new setup is my wireless signal isn't as good. I did relocate the router, but I suspect that once we renovate the living room and move some of the bookcases, everything will be A-OK.

"The Windows" -- This room used to be a screened-in porch. In 1994, the whole thing came crashing down after a severe ice buildup on the roof collapsed it (you'll notice the living room windows behind my shelf unit) . When we "rebuilt" the shell, I decided to install windows just in case we decided to use this area as living space. The stained glass frames hanging up are old windows I salvaged from the dump 20 years ago.

"The Entrance Wall" -- the umbrella stand holds fencing swords, not umbrellas. That's how we resolve family disputes here (just kidding). The door on the right leads to a tiny bedroom (9'x10') my son helped finish. We fought about who got to install the panelling in the bedroom and along "the wall" (he won the coin toss).


Left to do - finish the trim, find art for the walls. I've got enough here - I don't need to buy some, but wall space is tiny. Perhaps frame some photos. Paint, maybe? The white is stark, but it adds light to the northern exposure. Wallpaper border? Curtains? Your suggestions welcome.

Tools I've acquired - a router, new drill, new mitre saw (old one bit the dust), and son Brian contributed a table saw. We both still have all of our digits... I'd call that successful.

New skills - I now know how to use a table saw (and do use it btw), and I've gotten much better at finishing drywall (I seem to be the only person in the household with enough patience to tackle the job). This was a first experience working with insulation... I learned to let someone else work with it (son obliged), and also my first job laying carpet and padding (the trick was to cut the carpet outside in the driveway and trim it once it was in place). I'd like to buy a table for the router and learn more about cabinet making.

Next home-improvement projects:

1. Revisit the kitchen and finish the moulding.
2. Bathroom/hall closet renovation. Gut the bathroom walls to the studs, remove floor to the joists, keeping tub enclosure intact. Insulate exterior wall and repair necessary joists. Replace toilet and sink/vanity, install new cabinets and light fixtures and fan. Modify entrance to the bathroom, install new door. Add an extra outlet or two. Finish by winter (of 2008).
3. Install an alternative heating source. We heat with fuel oil. Need I say more? I'm thinking wood stove/fireplace insert. Oh, and gut the exterior living room wall and add insulation. I can feel the wind blowing in.

VISA Commercial Gone Bad...

“Customer cancelled tender”, the message read on my little digital screen. All the customer had to do was sign the screen and tap the green image with the stylus. “Ma’am, please slide your card again, sign the screen, and tap the green button on the screen”. She signs. “Beep” the register screams. “Customer cancelled tender” pops up once again. Lather, rinse, repeat. She tries a third time. “Beep”. I wait for the trap door below her to open and… Almost immediately, I’m jerked back to reality. This time I don’t need to ask her to try again.

“Now, which button do I tap?”, she inquires. A Greek chorus of waiting customers echoes back, “the GREEN one”. I ask, “Ma’am, which button are you tapping?” She replies, “The red one… it says ‘Clear’”.

The once near-empty express lane (my customer and me) is now snaking around the corner and has grown to 10 people. You could hear a collective sigh of relief as she completed her transaction and left the store. I guess this is one commercial VISA won’t be making anytime soon.

Sarge

A number of years ago (fifteen and one half to be exact), my husband and I were newlyweds. We were broke. I was a divorcee with a ten year old son. My new husband had never been married, and was a struggling entrepreneur, and held down a second job working in the family business while his father was battling cancer. My son was to turn eleven and we couldn’t afford much.

It was close to Halloween, and the pet store had a litter of black kittens for sale. We all fell in love with a black kitten with a small white splotch of with fur on his chest, and the whitest, longest whiskers I had ever seen. We secretly arranged to have the kitten picked up the Saturday before Brian’s birthday.

Jeff returned home with not one, but two little kittens that day. “Mr. Whiskers” and a littermate. Jeff said that the other kitty would have been left alone, all of the kittens had found homes except that one. When they got Whiskers out of the cage, the other kitty howled so pitifully that Jeff couldn’t leave him behind. The man at the pet store gave him a “BOGO” (though I seriously suspect that Jeff might have paid him for the extra kitten).

We decided to call the other kitty “Sergeant Pepper”. He was handsome -- grey underwear, with chocolate brown/black tips. A couple of white hairs on his chest. In a certain light it looked like he had stripes. Over the years he’s acquired many other names -- “Mr. Surly” and “Mr. Pissy” (more for his attitude than his bathroom habits), but we just call him “Sarge” most of the time.

He quickly became attached to Jeff . Ever the inquisitor, Sarge is eager to issue a gruff “Meow - where ya goin?’”, “Meow - where ya’ been?”, “Meow - love me”. Even at the age of 15, he remains the alpha cat. Mr. Whiskers disappeared about ten years ago… Sarge remains, but for how much longer -- we’re not sure.

A few years ago, he developed an abscess, and it was discovered that he had FIP. He had been doing OK until recently, when he started having labored breathing. A trip to the vet confirmed the worst, and we will soon lose our Sargeant. Right now he’s resting comfortably in a clothes basket and I realized how much I’ll miss him when he’s gone…



Post Script: Sometime during the wee morning hours of March 13th, Sarge died. I just showed Jeff this blog, and once he came to the photo said, "That's the quintessential Sarge pose -- Meow, why the hell are you taking my picture".