Alanis Morissette blasts in my ears, my moods feels like coastal weather, shifting from sunny to rain at a moments notice. I cannot keep up with it at times, this creative process,blessing or curse I wonder? I am who I am, I can be no different, not for lack of trying. I have tried to outrun me, hide from me, always having to prove, tough it out, push harder and harder, only for myself. And on again I would push, destination: Sedona, with a teacher for three, almost four days of non stop breaking down in order to build up again. I would not have wished this on my worst enemy. All in the name of letting go of "EGO". Well, this ego- still a bobcat, not quite ready to give up the ghost with this gentleman, few more rounds to go, and then some. ( Ray was back at the hotel waiting for me every night- my greatest reward ever.)
Daytime, the tearing down process, then night time back at the hotel, homework- hours and hours of it. People I needed to forgive, finally: Day three, Sedona Desert-
(Having previously gone through each person I needed to forgive, release, get angry about, if that fit the bill, really angry, find my voice... quit being such a good girl about those who hurt me, acknowledge those I hurt, forgiving those who victimized me, now let go of victim role, work on seeing the good, you name it. Hour after hour( with teacher) I had nothing left, and didn't care anymore, but a certain amount of fear, when the girl who brought me, now left me alone on the mountain with strange animal howlings now as my companion. Supplied with shovel, twigs, matches, all my papers, for every person I needed to forgive, the stack was thick with writings, and I realized then, I have to burn everyone of these things. About ten, twelve graves I needed to dig, say something about each person, letting go, then burning paper, cover up grave, make cross for each grave. Seriously?? Can't I just fake it like I had done so many other times in life??? But, as much as I hated this asshole who stripped my humanity to the bone, the more I fought, and let me tell you.... like a rabid dog. His process is something I would never, ever do again, ever. But I am someone who has always liked to break rules, I could sneak out, get away with anything, I was The Queen, The Pro, I knew how far I could push, uh just about anything, and I did. Growing up with a very out of control household, that is one thing I was always envious of with my two girlfriends, there were rules. I thought it was horrific.... yet deep down I longed for them. I pushed the limit more and more and more.
Now on this mountain, the tears, rage, frustration, heartache, fear.... what was I going to do?
What if a mountain lion ate me, or my biggest fear a snake bit me, the girl who brought me, forgot about me, left me here. This hurt, I didn't want to do this.... I already cried enough tears to fill the ocean- enough of this already. I was now simply scared, sad after all the anger. A girl who felt abandoned, alone, not worth fighting for.... and yet I kept digging one grave after the other, on my knees weeping, clawing at some, shouting, spitting, total irreverance at others. This infuriated me, a new rage came out. Then, finally through the rage a wellspring of tears in the purest form. I finally surrendered.
The day before, up at the meditation teachers house, she asked me who I thought God was? As always I felt as though it were a test. She was very loving, kind, patient. I felt embarrassed to answer, if somehow my answer would be wrong. That would be a very common theme in my life. I thought I was supposed to have some very magical, mystical, deep answer. In a very small voice as I stood outside, as The Wind blew..... I said- The Wind.
That has always been my feeling of God. Always as far back as a child, that has been what has comforted me, something I have understood, what has always brought me great joy. From that moment on I accepted that side of myself- and The Wind. Later I learned that is God, another word for him.... The Wind, my heart always knew, I just never trusted it.
As I sit writing this, it has been difficult to appreciate the lessons learned to bring me back to me..... to The Wind. No matter how many seminars, classes, places I have gone and will continue on,
this one was different, my very first one on one for such an extended period of time.
I had done many group sessions, regular hour therapy, but this just didn't stop. It allowed me to really dig in, time to work it out. He was the disciplinarian father, one I didn't understand and was having no part of. I fought with my life.... only in this moment writing this do I get it. Yes, he was an ass, rough, but there was no way around it with me. I had no respect. Zero. He knew it- I had to let go of my mothers view of men. My shame was unbearable- then kindness for me finally shone thru, humanity for me. I was a caged animal... by my choice. I wanted to be free, and I went to any means for my freedom. I have no regrets, my husband and son, all the men I love and respect deserved no less than me healing this side of me. Letting go of the painful female side as well, but the disrespect I was taught about males- I pray forgivable. I will work on this for my lifetime.
What I love and appreciate about my partner, my husband, my love. His trust and faith in me, even what would seem to others absolutely absurd, was right for me, he trusted me. That has been our marriage through it all, forgiveness, faith in one another, much laughter, taking leaps. Many a leap was taken early in his career, while others said why would you do that, ( with his risky choices... entertainment )just play it safe- teaching would be a good position, just stick to it. It was good for him, it is wonderful, but he wanted something different-in addition to.
We have blended beautifully the best parts of ourselves, to date. His with the financial aspect, mine with family, emotional, spiritual for us. We will ready ourselves over the next year or so to blend again, in a new way... one we haven't yet explored. This excites us both, to see what we have learned along the way. Dan Folgelberg has been singing in my ear, his music gives me hope, fills my heart with so much love. He is singing, " There's a place in the world for a gambler"
"And he sees, oh yes he sees, oh yes he sees. There's a song in the heart of a woman, that only the truest of loves can release, set it free, oh set it free. There's a a light in the depth of your darkness, there's a calm of the eye of every storm, let it shine, oh let it shine." Today I am proud of my work. The Wind and Me.
about maes
Monday, March 24, 2014
Blue Eye Shadow and Gladys Kravitz
I should have known as I heard those words ringing in my ears.
It couldn't, wouldn't and wasn't going to be good by any stretch of the imagination. Baby on my hip, a four year old tightly gripping my hand, down the steps, slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y we go.
"Oh, the neighbor seems nice, I think you will get along great, and your kids are about the same age,"the realtor belted out over and over. Hmmm. Leaning, slumped over the wall between our two houses... there she blew, "Blue Eye Shadow."The name came a little later, I will admit, but the picture of her remained in my mind, right there .... instantly.Tight perm, ungodly amount of blue eye shadow, and some sort of shiftette rig I had not seen in some time, decade? (This does put a smile on my face as I write, my typing seems to have picked up, second cup of java didn't hurt either.) She started the litany of rules -what we could do together. Was the room spinning? Wait we are outdoors, was that the sky spinning? We had just moved in and all I thought was whoa..... and get me out of here. On the other side was another interesting gal. No, I am kidding. Before we even moved in, a war had begun with some of the other neighbors and this doll.
(Okay, I am laughing again.) I have to just jump in..... this woman was your nightmare from hell-petitions for this, petitions for that. She started a war with the neighbor behind us, so the fence surrounding our property became a war between them, before we ever got there. ( We would have never moved in had there not been a fence- being a very busy street, two small children in tow)
When it came time to sell, moving along little doggie- I no longer cared anymore- she literally put her foot in our front door, blocking me from closing it. I'd had enough, good girl could take no more. She simply wouldn't leave- I tried slamming the door on her foot, and very loudly stated, "Get out of my house Gladys Kravitz" ( Nosy neighbor from Bewitched) Ray and the kids were in the background just bewildered that mama had just gone wild on our neighbor, "Gladys Kravitz." She no longer knew what to do, I was even shocked by myself, enough was enough, and off she finally went.... silent, mouth agape. This beast would roam the hood, day or night clipboard in hand, looking for infractions to take to the City Council Meetings- each and every week. If someone parked their RV- even in their own driveway, she would call the Sheriff. She would look up what Code it violated, yep she was a Peach, you might say Belle of The Ball. Oh they knew "Gladys", at the Council meetings....knew her well. Probably needed a flask to get them through, probably passed it around.
Ray and I would sit on the Patio at night when we knew she was listening....meaning always. I would"talk" about how great it was "Swinging", loved all the partners we had, appreciated in particular he didn't mind I swung both ways.... I said anything and everything, with not a crack in my voice. He would respond with how much he enjoyed my way of living, that it was just right. We should try more things, and invite different couples and people over. We could practically hear her excitable breathing, then we would go in the house and chuckle, we knew she hung on every word we said. She was that secret voyeur kind.... stirred up trouble, but thought she was really hearing "the goods " on us. I am sure she did hear some interesting stuff, knowing the things we say and don't think about.
Ray made up stories far better than mine, such a great story teller- always has been. I'm pretty boring, it's his delivery... just dry, which makes it even funnier, I had a hard time not laughing very hard. I would go inside- see her- perched- waiting on her back steps to hear more.
We had no privacy on either side--- with huge backyards and neighbors into watching what anyone was doing. Good times.
On Tuesday nights I would babysit so "The Shadow" and Hubby could go to rehearsals for "Bells" at Church. I think she would put on a little fancier frock, get a little dolled up. I dreaded Tuesday nights.... the only thing that got me through it- she had enormous amounts of candy and sweets in the house. She was forever on Weight Watchers, yet had so much sugar and junk food in the house, I was in heaven. I would put the kids to bed, call Ray ( next door) bitching my head off about being next door... why wasn't he? while eating massive amounts of candy, then repositioning the rest of the stash so she wouldn't notice what I had eaten. Soon enough, I was high as a kite from the sugar- all was well.
That is how I would get through Tuesday Nights at Blue Eye Shadows. The only reason I would do it,
we could go out on Saturday Nights....she would babysit. One time when Katie was under two, ( near Christmas time) she got into Blue Eye Shadows candy bowl on her coffee table, what child wouldn't? This infuriated Blue..... she had to let me know... Katie was not going with the program.
Her son used to walk into our house throughout the years- no knocking, just walk in, sit down, ask what was to eat, what's for dessert, etc. He'd walk in the back yard, steal things, that is why it was so funny,"The rules". Always rules upon rules upon rules.... only during breakfast this morning, talking to Ray did I even remember all of this. Blue Eye Shadow, condensed by Ray- to simply"Shadrack", had become our CPA. She would gossip about other neighbors, peoples finances, judging how they lived, etc.We definitely were not living the way she thought appropriate by any stretch, now she knew our finances! At this point now she had simply become 'The Rack"
Ray and I are not fighters on the whole- this is one area where it was very uncomfortable...."The Rack"... not because she was sporting one, trust me -Ray's name for her.
Ray was asking me where all the tax stuff was this morning, that is why I remembered.The interesting thing living next door to her, all the rules, and I thought I was supposed to follow them to be good. Sandwiched between two complete fear based gals.... which only now am I identifying, it was a rough ride. I learned a lot about who I was becoming, letting go of my own fears. Still in my twenties, a young mother, just trying to find my way. Moving on to the street we are now on.... almost thirteen years later, again have learned some good sized lessons. When we moved in to the house we now reside in, we were in an extremely quiet place in our lives. There was no one that we could say to, "Hey look at this house we just bought," no one to bounce it off before we purchased it. I wanted the house simply because it reminded me of "The Brady Bunch", right down to the cul de sac. It was a few notches above a tear down when we bought it, had we thought about it we wouldn't have I am sure. Thirteen years later, putting our heart and souls into it, it has served us well and I am grateful. We have watched our children grow, prosper, there has been deep love in this home. I am getting ready to let go once again - I can feel it, move on, get ready for another adventure, Ray as well. We have grown, learned, just as we have stripped away so much with this house, applied many coats of new paint, life to this house, so too with ourselves. This house has been painful, and a great blessing at the same time. Without the contrast of Blue Eye Shadow and Gladys Kravitz- thinking about them today, I wouldn't be able to look back and see how far I have come. So many years of quiet up against these beautiful foothills, I have found my voice.
It couldn't, wouldn't and wasn't going to be good by any stretch of the imagination. Baby on my hip, a four year old tightly gripping my hand, down the steps, slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y we go.
"Oh, the neighbor seems nice, I think you will get along great, and your kids are about the same age,"the realtor belted out over and over. Hmmm. Leaning, slumped over the wall between our two houses... there she blew, "Blue Eye Shadow."The name came a little later, I will admit, but the picture of her remained in my mind, right there .... instantly.Tight perm, ungodly amount of blue eye shadow, and some sort of shiftette rig I had not seen in some time, decade? (This does put a smile on my face as I write, my typing seems to have picked up, second cup of java didn't hurt either.) She started the litany of rules -what we could do together. Was the room spinning? Wait we are outdoors, was that the sky spinning? We had just moved in and all I thought was whoa..... and get me out of here. On the other side was another interesting gal. No, I am kidding. Before we even moved in, a war had begun with some of the other neighbors and this doll.
(Okay, I am laughing again.) I have to just jump in..... this woman was your nightmare from hell-petitions for this, petitions for that. She started a war with the neighbor behind us, so the fence surrounding our property became a war between them, before we ever got there. ( We would have never moved in had there not been a fence- being a very busy street, two small children in tow)
When it came time to sell, moving along little doggie- I no longer cared anymore- she literally put her foot in our front door, blocking me from closing it. I'd had enough, good girl could take no more. She simply wouldn't leave- I tried slamming the door on her foot, and very loudly stated, "Get out of my house Gladys Kravitz" ( Nosy neighbor from Bewitched) Ray and the kids were in the background just bewildered that mama had just gone wild on our neighbor, "Gladys Kravitz." She no longer knew what to do, I was even shocked by myself, enough was enough, and off she finally went.... silent, mouth agape. This beast would roam the hood, day or night clipboard in hand, looking for infractions to take to the City Council Meetings- each and every week. If someone parked their RV- even in their own driveway, she would call the Sheriff. She would look up what Code it violated, yep she was a Peach, you might say Belle of The Ball. Oh they knew "Gladys", at the Council meetings....knew her well. Probably needed a flask to get them through, probably passed it around.
Ray and I would sit on the Patio at night when we knew she was listening....meaning always. I would"talk" about how great it was "Swinging", loved all the partners we had, appreciated in particular he didn't mind I swung both ways.... I said anything and everything, with not a crack in my voice. He would respond with how much he enjoyed my way of living, that it was just right. We should try more things, and invite different couples and people over. We could practically hear her excitable breathing, then we would go in the house and chuckle, we knew she hung on every word we said. She was that secret voyeur kind.... stirred up trouble, but thought she was really hearing "the goods " on us. I am sure she did hear some interesting stuff, knowing the things we say and don't think about.
Ray made up stories far better than mine, such a great story teller- always has been. I'm pretty boring, it's his delivery... just dry, which makes it even funnier, I had a hard time not laughing very hard. I would go inside- see her- perched- waiting on her back steps to hear more.
We had no privacy on either side--- with huge backyards and neighbors into watching what anyone was doing. Good times.
On Tuesday nights I would babysit so "The Shadow" and Hubby could go to rehearsals for "Bells" at Church. I think she would put on a little fancier frock, get a little dolled up. I dreaded Tuesday nights.... the only thing that got me through it- she had enormous amounts of candy and sweets in the house. She was forever on Weight Watchers, yet had so much sugar and junk food in the house, I was in heaven. I would put the kids to bed, call Ray ( next door) bitching my head off about being next door... why wasn't he? while eating massive amounts of candy, then repositioning the rest of the stash so she wouldn't notice what I had eaten. Soon enough, I was high as a kite from the sugar- all was well.
That is how I would get through Tuesday Nights at Blue Eye Shadows. The only reason I would do it,
we could go out on Saturday Nights....she would babysit. One time when Katie was under two, ( near Christmas time) she got into Blue Eye Shadows candy bowl on her coffee table, what child wouldn't? This infuriated Blue..... she had to let me know... Katie was not going with the program.
Her son used to walk into our house throughout the years- no knocking, just walk in, sit down, ask what was to eat, what's for dessert, etc. He'd walk in the back yard, steal things, that is why it was so funny,"The rules". Always rules upon rules upon rules.... only during breakfast this morning, talking to Ray did I even remember all of this. Blue Eye Shadow, condensed by Ray- to simply"Shadrack", had become our CPA. She would gossip about other neighbors, peoples finances, judging how they lived, etc.We definitely were not living the way she thought appropriate by any stretch, now she knew our finances! At this point now she had simply become 'The Rack"
Ray and I are not fighters on the whole- this is one area where it was very uncomfortable...."The Rack"... not because she was sporting one, trust me -Ray's name for her.
Ray was asking me where all the tax stuff was this morning, that is why I remembered.The interesting thing living next door to her, all the rules, and I thought I was supposed to follow them to be good. Sandwiched between two complete fear based gals.... which only now am I identifying, it was a rough ride. I learned a lot about who I was becoming, letting go of my own fears. Still in my twenties, a young mother, just trying to find my way. Moving on to the street we are now on.... almost thirteen years later, again have learned some good sized lessons. When we moved in to the house we now reside in, we were in an extremely quiet place in our lives. There was no one that we could say to, "Hey look at this house we just bought," no one to bounce it off before we purchased it. I wanted the house simply because it reminded me of "The Brady Bunch", right down to the cul de sac. It was a few notches above a tear down when we bought it, had we thought about it we wouldn't have I am sure. Thirteen years later, putting our heart and souls into it, it has served us well and I am grateful. We have watched our children grow, prosper, there has been deep love in this home. I am getting ready to let go once again - I can feel it, move on, get ready for another adventure, Ray as well. We have grown, learned, just as we have stripped away so much with this house, applied many coats of new paint, life to this house, so too with ourselves. This house has been painful, and a great blessing at the same time. Without the contrast of Blue Eye Shadow and Gladys Kravitz- thinking about them today, I wouldn't be able to look back and see how far I have come. So many years of quiet up against these beautiful foothills, I have found my voice.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
My Raymond
I was thinking about what it takes to move forward. The fortitude, the drive, just doing it. This story is dedicated to my husband, my hero my Raymond. There are many choices, many roads we can all take, every day. We are presented with many forks in the road, which one will we take? When I feel like giving up, am fearful, I think of my husband. Just as a love song is written with great passion, so beats my heart in this story. I know from living with him day in and day out, what it has taken for him to rise, continue to face his demons, his fears. His father was an amazing artist, who loved planes and trains. Ray's brother fell in love with planes, and interestingly enough, travels non stop on them. I guess he chose that part of Al Spencer's legacy. I need to find a legacy here in all of this heartache. Ray fell in love with trains, his fathers passion as well. Ray's father, a boy from Ohio( his father an engineer for the railroad),wanted his boy to become a baseball player. This young man had dreams, desires of his own in this rough steel mill town. He loved drama, art, which mystified his father. In his teenage years, his mother died, and was sent away to live with relatives. Ray's father went to college, joined the Army, soon after met his mother and they nestled in a small community in Southern California -Pasadena above the Rose Bowl. His mother, from a small town in Nebraska, so the Ohio boy and Nebraska girl were figuring it out together. The home was a very modest one, neighborhood great for raising children. Ray's brother Jeff was the first to come, then Ray less than three years later. Ray's father began to have some success with art, but what came along with it was unexpected stress. Keeping up with the Jone's, this is something both were ill prepared for. Ray's father, now wandering, stumbling around the neighborhood drunk, mama finally saying enough by Ray's teenage years. How quickly this picture perfect image disintegrated, the family poised in front of Pop's Model T- now Pop is propped in front of bottle after bottle of booze in the garage, his new oasis.
During this time, Jeff, I suppose to escape some of this madness, had gone deep into motor cross, bikes, anything to get away from home and Ray drawing, art, escape. Around aged twelve, Papa Spencer was gone- so was the money. Mama Spencer panicked, and the welfare check became Spencer households god. If a car no longer worked, it would be abandoned roadside, and that was that. Growing up, Ray's dad literally used a white glove to inspect cleaning, so this renegade behavior was new it was now survival. The two boys could not relate to one another.....
Having their family become so public, but not for anything notable, just shame. Stumbling drunks, fighting,welfare checks, house literally falling apart. It could not be hidden, the pink elephant was in the hood and it was them. Mama Spencer would only amplify things by becoming more eccentric, feathered hats, feathered boas, extremely erratic behavior that would, by the boys teen years have them wincing. Fancy dresses she would buy, knowing full well she could never pay for- always making deals she could never close,someone else was going to pay, more than likely her two teen boys. I understand my husband more and more now as I write this. He put his toys away so long ago, his favorites being trains. Everything he loved was sold, bartered or simply taken away. Even talking about the day his father left, " I told you," or "What do you want to bring that up for?"would be the words he heard from his mother. By the time Ray turned about fifteen, somewhere in Germany, a boy would be competing in the Olympics for bicycling. That boy would be his brother, Jeff- a lone eighteen year old. I am proud of these two brothers coming out of this household.
By the time Ray was thirty five he lost both parents. His father, dying homeless in Central Park near the Zoo. Ray never saw or spoke to his father again, after seventh grade. We have yet to go back to New York to visit his grave. His brother told us where it is- it will be time when it is time. We have gone back to Ohio, to see Grandpa Spencer's grave, and Nebraska for Grandpa Petersen. His father's wound is the deepest - it will take some time. Ray's Mother's ashes were sprinkled over the ocean by the Neptune society.The house they grew up in was torn down when Katie was a baby, a beautiful new one built in it's place. I am sure whoever lives there is enjoying their home, it looks so peaceful now. Occasionally we take walks by, Ray reminiscing about the old hood, his friends," Dennis The Mennis" childhood he had. I am happy he was able to fulfill so many of his dreams. He did not let anything stop him.... one dream wanting to going to Art Center- he took another route and became a teacher there. With Disney, I did not realize how long it took for someone to even look his art portfolio. He was persistent, every week, just as he had done with other jobs, over and over again. Making cold calls, one year, two years, until finally...... it happened.
He is quiet, determined, doesn't let setbacks stand in his way, they become his challenge. He is the man I love, respect, with such vision. I don't know what he is working on most of the time. "Oh, I've been working on this for three years, " he'll say. That would be Thunder Mountain- I hadn't even seen any of the stuff until maybe six weeks ago, I had no idea. These breathtaking sketches, seriously? I say to him," Have I ever been on Thunder Mountain?" "Yes honey," he says so patiently. "Oh."That is my love..... that is my sweet darling, the man I am so proud of for so many reasons. Not just for surviving, thriving, inspiring so many. Inspiring me, making me want to become more, that is my Raymond.
During this time, Jeff, I suppose to escape some of this madness, had gone deep into motor cross, bikes, anything to get away from home and Ray drawing, art, escape. Around aged twelve, Papa Spencer was gone- so was the money. Mama Spencer panicked, and the welfare check became Spencer households god. If a car no longer worked, it would be abandoned roadside, and that was that. Growing up, Ray's dad literally used a white glove to inspect cleaning, so this renegade behavior was new it was now survival. The two boys could not relate to one another.....
Having their family become so public, but not for anything notable, just shame. Stumbling drunks, fighting,welfare checks, house literally falling apart. It could not be hidden, the pink elephant was in the hood and it was them. Mama Spencer would only amplify things by becoming more eccentric, feathered hats, feathered boas, extremely erratic behavior that would, by the boys teen years have them wincing. Fancy dresses she would buy, knowing full well she could never pay for- always making deals she could never close,someone else was going to pay, more than likely her two teen boys. I understand my husband more and more now as I write this. He put his toys away so long ago, his favorites being trains. Everything he loved was sold, bartered or simply taken away. Even talking about the day his father left, " I told you," or "What do you want to bring that up for?"would be the words he heard from his mother. By the time Ray turned about fifteen, somewhere in Germany, a boy would be competing in the Olympics for bicycling. That boy would be his brother, Jeff- a lone eighteen year old. I am proud of these two brothers coming out of this household.
By the time Ray was thirty five he lost both parents. His father, dying homeless in Central Park near the Zoo. Ray never saw or spoke to his father again, after seventh grade. We have yet to go back to New York to visit his grave. His brother told us where it is- it will be time when it is time. We have gone back to Ohio, to see Grandpa Spencer's grave, and Nebraska for Grandpa Petersen. His father's wound is the deepest - it will take some time. Ray's Mother's ashes were sprinkled over the ocean by the Neptune society.The house they grew up in was torn down when Katie was a baby, a beautiful new one built in it's place. I am sure whoever lives there is enjoying their home, it looks so peaceful now. Occasionally we take walks by, Ray reminiscing about the old hood, his friends," Dennis The Mennis" childhood he had. I am happy he was able to fulfill so many of his dreams. He did not let anything stop him.... one dream wanting to going to Art Center- he took another route and became a teacher there. With Disney, I did not realize how long it took for someone to even look his art portfolio. He was persistent, every week, just as he had done with other jobs, over and over again. Making cold calls, one year, two years, until finally...... it happened.
He is quiet, determined, doesn't let setbacks stand in his way, they become his challenge. He is the man I love, respect, with such vision. I don't know what he is working on most of the time. "Oh, I've been working on this for three years, " he'll say. That would be Thunder Mountain- I hadn't even seen any of the stuff until maybe six weeks ago, I had no idea. These breathtaking sketches, seriously? I say to him," Have I ever been on Thunder Mountain?" "Yes honey," he says so patiently. "Oh."That is my love..... that is my sweet darling, the man I am so proud of for so many reasons. Not just for surviving, thriving, inspiring so many. Inspiring me, making me want to become more, that is my Raymond.
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